Why Trauma-Informed Clinical Supervision Matters More After COVID

Clinical supervision after COVID is not the same... Practice is not supposed to feel like this.

I hear some version of the same thing from early-career clinicians again and again.“I feel like I should know this by now.”“I don’t know who to ask.”“I’m worried I’m missing something.”“I feel alone with my cases.”

A lot of this has intensified post-COVID. Many clinicians trained partially or fully in isolation, with fewer informal conversations, fewer hallway consults, and fewer opportunities to think out loud with other clinicians. Supervision often became more task-focused, more evaluative, or more transactional, rather than a space to actually think.

That loss matters, especially when you are doing trauma work.

The learning that happened between sessions

When I look back on my own development as a clinician, much of what shaped me did not happen during formal supervision hours.

In my second-year internship, my internship partner and I debriefed after nearly every session. We would sit in each other’s offices and talk through what happened, what the client did, what we noticed in ourselves, and what we said in response. Sometimes it was quick. Sometimes it turned into a longer conversation. Either way, it became a regular, relational way of making meaning out of the work.

That pattern deepened even more in my first job out of graduate school. I was incredibly lucky to land in a group practice with a team of talented, thoughtful, and genuinely supportive clinicians. At any given moment, there were multiple office doors open. There was not a day that went by where I didn’t walk into a colleague’s office, plop down on a couch, and say, “That was wild. This is what happened. This is what I said. Do you think that was okay?”

And just as often, one or two of my colleagues would do the same with me.

Those conversations were not formal supervision. They were not structured or evaluative. They were relational, immediate, and grounded in real clinical moments. They allowed us to metabolize the work together, normalize uncertainty, and develop trust in our instincts through shared reflection. Sometimes they happened during the workday, sometimes after hours. Hello wine and process note nights, if you know, you know.

There are specific people who shaped me in those spaces, and it feels important to name that because this kind of learning happens in relationship. Olga taught me how to self-reflect and was the first person who helped me understand what it meant to be embodied in the work. Holly taught me how to sit with grief while still allowing laughter, how to hold depth and lightness at the same time, and how healing can happen in both. Matt and Hilary deepened my clinical thinking and consistently pushed me to expand how I understood cases, all while offering a safe place to vent, question myself, and process the emotional weight of the work. And Kami became my lifelong friend and my go-to person, someone who knew the work and knew me.

That constellation of relationships shaped me as much as, and in some ways more than, my official clinical supervision ever did.

I never had to hold something alone for a week while waiting for supervision. If a session was heavy or destabilizing, I could get support right away, sometimes even in the five minutes between sessions. There was always someone who could look at me and say, “You’re okay. It’s okay. The client is okay.” That kind of immediate relational containment mattered more than I realized at the time.

What has been lost in Clinical Supervision after COVID

I also know very clearly that I would not have had access to that kind of clinical community post-COVID.

The informal conversations, the open doors, the spontaneous debriefs, and the relational safety that allowed growth to happen organically are largely gone for newer clinicians. Therapy is often virtual or hybrid now, and many clinicians are doing complex, relational trauma work without anything resembling the support I was lucky enough to have.

I see this loss showing up everywhere. Clinicians feel more isolated. They second-guess themselves more. They feel like they should already know how to handle what they are seeing, especially when working with trauma.

When you add in the realities of doing good, relational, connected complex trauma work, that isolation becomes even more significant. Trauma work brings uncertainty, strong emotional responses, and moments that don’t fit neatly into protocols or manuals. Without a place to slow those moments down and think them through, clinicians often turn that uncertainty inward.

This is not a personal failure. It is a structural one.

The gap between PTSD training and complex trauma work

Another pattern I see frequently is a gap between how PTSD is taught and how complex trauma and dissociative presentations actually show up in the therapy room.

Many clinicians are well-trained in trauma models and interventions, yet feel less prepared when clients present with fragmentation, emotional flooding, shutdown, or dissociation. It is not always clear whether what you are seeing fits neatly into PTSD, or whether something more layered is happening underneath.

Without a place to think this through collaboratively, clinicians often wonder whether they are doing something wrong or whether they are simply not cut out for trauma work. In reality, this reflects a gap in training and support, not a lack of skill or care.

Why supervision needs to feel relational again

This is why I am so intentional about how I think about group supervision.

I am not interested in supervision as something you endure or a box you check to get licensed. I want it to function as a community. A place where clinicians can think out loud, bring the work that feels hard or confusing, and be held in relationship while they grow.

I often say that if trauma happens in relationships, then healing has to happen in relationships too. That does not only apply to clients. If a therapist doesn’t have their own community to support them in showing up authentically, thoughtfully, and relationally, the work becomes much harder to sustain. Isolation does not just affect clinicians emotionally, it affects how present and available we are able to be with the people we serve.

Group supervision, when done well, can restore some of what has been lost. It can become a place where clinicians are not alone with the work, where uncertainty is normalized, and where learning happens through connection rather than evaluation. Is it the only way? No, it is not. But it certainly helps.

Holding the container now

I also think about the person who held the container in my first job out of school. The practice owner, Deb, created the conditions that made all of that possible. She set the tone. She trusted the clinicians. She made space for connection, curiosity, and mutual support without micromanaging it. At the time, I don’t think I fully understood how much that mattered.

It is a little surreal to realize that I am now the one holding that container. Sometimes it feels bananas to name that out loud. But hold it I shall. And within that container, my intention is to create real space for clinicians to learn from one another, not just from me.

Part of holding the container now means recognizing how important that kind of containment was for me early on. It means being mindful of how much clinicians are often carrying between sessions, and how rarely they are told, in real time, that they are okay, that the work is okay, and that their client is okay.

As a supervisor, I tend to speak last. Unless the direction things are going could be untherapeutic or unsafe, which doesn’t happen often, my role is not to dominate the conversation or provide constant answers. It is to notice patterns, offer structure when needed, and trust the collective clinical wisdom in the room.

That is the kind of supervision I believe in. One that is held carefully, rooted in relationship, and designed to support clinicians as whole humans doing relational work.

If you are looking for supervision

If you are an associate clinician feeling isolated, under-supported, or unsure about how to navigate complex trauma and dissociative presentations, you are not alone. These experiences are common and understandable, especially given how training and practice have shifted in recent years.

Supervision doesn’t have to be something you endure. It can be a place where you feel supported, grounded, and less alone in the work.

If you are curious about group or individual clinical supervision, you are welcome to reach out to learn more or click the Clinical Supervision option in the menu above.