When the Client Pulls Away: Practicing Self-Accountability in Coaching
- Tanya Master
- Oct 20, 2023
- 4 min read
Updated: Oct 26
Most of us don’t enter this field because we want to mess up. We become coaches, therapists, and space-holders because we want to hold others well. We want to listen. To support change. To repair what was once mishandled in our own lives.
But at some point, if you’re in this work long enough, it happens: A rupture. A client pulls away. The session doesn’t land. They disconnect. You feel it, and maybe you know exactly what happened. Maybe you don’t. Maybe you’re spinning about it after the call, rehearsing what you said, wondering if you’re overreacting, or if they are.
This is a quiet but pivotal moment in any practitioner’s development. And what we do next reveals a lot.
The Quiet Cost of Perfectionism in Practice
If you’re anything like me, you probably hold yourself to a high standard. You care deeply. You want to get it “right.” Especially for trauma clients, especially in the parts of their lives where they were mishandled.
For many practitioners, that commitment is earnest, but also shaped by perfectionism. Not the kind that polishes everything to a shine, but the quieter kind that says:
You should know better.
That shouldn’t have happened.
You’re supposed to be the regulated one.
This mindset is seductive. It helps us feel competent. But it also makes it very hard to tolerate making mistakes, or even naming them. It can keep us locked in fear of being “found out,” of losing a client, or of falling from the pedestal our own integrity has placed us on.
Ironically, it also distances us from real repair.
A Case Study in Misattunement
A while ago, I had a session with a client who didn’t seem to be engaging with my usual approach. I noticed it mid-way through the call, but instead of softening, I subtly doubled down.
I tried to explain what I meant. I tried to “win her over” with clarity. What I didn’t do — at least not in the moment — was slow down and track what wasn’t working. I didn’t say, “Hey, let's slow down. What do you notice happening between us right now?”
Instead, I kept going. She shut down. I felt it. But the session ended.
It took time, and the support of supervision, to see what had happened. I wasn’t being combative, not intentionally. But I wasn’t being relational either. I was being self-protective. That fear of “getting it wrong” hijacked my ability to stay present.
Later, I reached out. I named what had happened. I apologised without defending or explaining. She didn’t immediately reply. And in a way, that silence was the medicine. For repair to be real, it needs time to settle. Self-accountability in coaching is not about guilt, it’s about repair.
The Role of Self-Accountability in Coaching Ruptures
It’s tempting to see rupture as a sign of failure, but that’s not what it is.
In trauma-informed work, rupture is inevitable.
What matters more is whether we know how to orient toward repair. That means:
Noticing when something’s off (even subtly)
Not making it about your intent
Not expecting immediate resolution
Being willing to apologise without narrative
This doesn’t mean over-apologising, self-abandoning, or stepping into a rescuer role. It means holding the frame with humility and clarity, even when you’re the one who missed something. It means trusting that naming a rupture doesn’t make you less professional... it makes you trustworthy.
For many clients, especially those with relational trauma, this moment matters more than the rupture itself. Because it’s often the first time someone circles back and says:
“I saw that. And I’m here.”
Self-Accountability is a Skill. Not a Shame Signal
Accountability isn’t just a moral value. It’s a clinical skill. It’s the ability to step back, reflect, take ownership, and move forward without collapse, without defensiveness, and without losing your internal compass. This doesn’t always come naturally. Especially if we weren’t shown healthy modelling for what it looks like to get something wrong and still remain in connection.
But when we do learn how to take accountability well — without shame, without theatrics — something shifts. The guilt clears. The loop closes. And we become safer practitioners... because we’re being real.
If You’re a Practitioner Reading This…
Here’s a simple invitation:
If a client pulls away or disconnects: pause before pathologising them.
Ask yourself honestly: Was there a misattunement here?
If so, can you own it or name it — without over-owning, defending, or retreating?
You don’t need to perform your guilt. You don’t need to spiral in self-doubt.
You do need a space (like supervision) where your own shame patterns and perfectionism can be witnessed and metabolised.
This is part of the work. It’s not a deviation from it.
Final Word: What Repair Builds
When we model this kind of repair in practice, something profound happens. Clients internalise it. They begin to feel what it’s like to be in relationship with someone who can be real — and who won’t disappear when things get uncomfortable.
That’s not just professional integrity.
That’s nervous system repair.
And it starts with us.
Ready to build a practice that can hold rupture, without losing integrity?
I offer trauma-informed practitioner mentorship for coaches, therapists, and space-holders who are navigating complexity in client work. Together, we look at the real dynamics underneath the training — perfectionism, misattunement, shame, fear of getting it wrong — and build your capacity for sustainable, relationally attuned practice.
If you’re ready to be held in this work the way you hold others, book a strategic deep-dive session or explore ongoing mentorship with an Introductory Session below.
