The Lie We Were Sold: Why So Many Speech Therapists Feel Trapped (and How to Break Free)

Nov 29

I want to say the quiet part out loud.

Most of us did not choose speech therapy because we wanted to be exhausted, underpaid, and constantly behind. We chose it because we cared. Because language matters. Because helping people communicate feels meaningful in our bones.

And yet, so many speech therapists feel trapped.

Not because they chose the wrong field. But because the version of this career we were sold does not match the reality we’re living in.

The promise that kept us going

I didn’t grow up dreaming of becoming a speech therapist. I found my way here after the 2008 crash flipped my life upside down. I had owned an interior design business in Seattle. When the economy collapsed, that work disappeared overnight. I moved back to Portland, lived with my sister, and took the first job I could get in retail just to survive.

Eventually I landed a corporate job. On paper, it looked stable. Inside, it felt empty. I remember sitting at my desk knowing I couldn’t do that work for the rest of my life, even if I didn’t yet have language for purpose or fulfillment.

So I did what many of us do. I opened Google and searched for careers that were in demand, recession proof, and required advanced training. Speech-language pathology came up at the top of the list.

It sounded perfect. Jobs everywhere. Work with all ages. So many settings. Solid pay. A respected profession. I was told, explicitly and implicitly, that if I worked hard enough and invested enough, it would pay off.

Graduate school was brutal. Truly the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I barely slept. I couldn’t work. I pushed my body to the point that I had to recover from the stress afterward. There were moments I called my mom sobbing, convinced I couldn’t finish. What kept me going was knowing I could quit if I needed to. That permission was everything.

And like so many therapists, I kept telling myself the same thing. This will all be worth it on the other side.

The moment the illusion cracked

My first job paid $42,000 a year.

Not $60k. Not $80k. Forty-two.

I was living in Southern California, scraping by, and realizing on day one that something didn’t add up. I had done everything “right.” I had taken on debt. I had pushed myself through a rigorous program. I cared deeply about my work.

And yet I felt undervalued almost immediately.

Later, back in Portland, working in early childhood education as a single mom, it became painfully clear that this wasn’t just about pay. Caseloads were overwhelming. Work followed me home. There was no way to earn more by doing better work. I was tied to a salary schedule I couldn’t influence.

I was living in a one-bedroom apartment, giving my daughter the bedroom and turning the living room into a makeshift studio. I rolled the TV out on a cart at night because there wasn’t space for anything else. I gave everything I had to my students, families, and colleagues, then came home with nothing left.

I got sick constantly. I had my tonsils removed while raising a toddler alone. And I remember thinking, this cannot be what all of that sacrifice was for.

Why “just go into private practice” isn’t the full answer

For a long time, private practice felt like the solution. And in many ways, it is a powerful option. It can offer more autonomy, better boundaries, and more flexibility than schools or medical settings.

But here’s the truth I don’t hear talked about enough.

Private practice often just moves us from a small box into a slightly bigger one.

Growth is still capped. Reimbursement rates are out of our control. Insurance pays less while costs keep rising. Hiring is hard because paying people what they deserve is expensive, and reimbursement does not support it. Many owners work more hours than they ever did as employees, often for similar pay when you break it down.

I love owning a business. I love being in the driver’s seat. But private practice alone did not give me the freedom, energy, or income I was looking for.

And that realization came with a lot of grief.

The pattern I couldn’t ignore anymore

I noticed something repeating in my life.

Every time I found a solution, my box just got a little bigger.

Schools to private practice.
Private practice to running a creative business.
One-to-one therapy to one-to-one client services.

Different work. Same ceiling.

I was still trading time for money. Still limited by hours in a day. Still exhausted. Still capped.

That’s when I had to ask a harder question.

How can I stay in a field I love, continue serving people, and stop tying my income entirely to one-to-one work?

When the box finally broke open

For me, the shift started with leveraged and digital income.

Not overnight. Not perfectly. Not without mistakes.

I started creating small digital products. Guides. Workbooks. Low-risk offers. I overbuilt some things and under-marketed others. I learned by doing. Many of those early products are now on their second or third versions.

But something changed.

For the first time, I wasn’t paid only for the hours I worked. I could create something once and have it help many people. The income wasn’t instant or effortless, but it was scalable. And it gave me breathing room.

Eventually, that breathing room turned into freedom. Time with my daughter. Energy at the end of the day. Space to travel. A living that actually supported my life.

That’s when I knew this wasn’t just about money. It was about sustainability.

The skills you already have are enough

Here’s what I want you to hear if you’re feeling stuck.

You are not “just” a clinician.

Every day, you solve real problems. For clients. For families. For systems. For businesses. Problems people would gladly pay to solve faster and with less stress.

Graduate school trained us to think narrowly. Therapy room. One-on-one. Small groups. That’s it.

But we are CEOs. We are leaders. We are problem-solvers. We are capable of so much more than the roles we were shown.

You don’t need to reach millions of people. You don’t need a massive following. You don’t need to blow up your life.

What would an extra $500 or $1,000 a month change for you?

That margin can mean groceries without a credit card. Time off without panic. Caring for someone you love without financial fear. And yes, that small shift can grow into something much bigger.

This is how we break free

The lie we were sold was that hard work inside the system would eventually reward us.

For many therapists, that reward never comes.

Breaking free doesn’t mean abandoning therapy. It means expanding how your skills show up in the world. It means allowing yourself to earn in ways that are not limited by a clock or a caseload.

You don’t need permission. You don’t need to do it perfectly. You don’t need to figure it all out today.

But you do deserve a career that doesn’t drain you dry.

I stayed in the box for a long time because I didn’t know there was another option. Once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.

And if this resonates, my guess is you’re starting to see it too.