When Strangers Ask for Therapy, Endorsement, or Co-Authorship

Every so often, an unsolicited message lands in my inbox that neatly illustrates why professional boundaries exist and why maintaining them is not optional work. These messages usually arrive at moments of personal or professional instability. They come from people navigating collapse, reinvention, exposure, or unresolved trauma. Often all at once.

The pattern is familiar. Someone I do not know reaches out asking whether I still provide therapy, whether I can offer career guidance, or whether I would be willing to attach my name to a project that is still taking shape. Sometimes the request expands quickly. A referral becomes an endorsement. Guidance becomes co-authorship. A single conversation is implicitly treated as consent.

I understand why this happens. High-stakes environments produce urgency. Urgency erodes discernment. When people are under pressure, they reach for credibility, containment, and reassurance. They look for someone who appears steady enough to anchor the story.

That does not mean the request is appropriate.

I was trained and worked for years as a trauma therapist. I have consulted on forensic matters, crisis interventions, and cases involving significant legal and psychological risk. I say this once for context, not as credential-stacking. Experience does not obligate perpetual availability. It increases responsibility to know when involvement would cause harm.

When someone asks whether I still “do therapy,” the answer is not a casual yes or no. Scope of practice matters. Duty of care matters. Therapy is not a favor. Consulting is not a conversation. Co-authorship is not a symbolic gesture. Each carries ethical, legal, and factual obligations that cannot be met through informal or premature engagement.

In the example that prompted this Dispatch, I did offer limited guidance. I did not agree to co-author or publicly associate my name with an unfinished narrative. The material was not yet structurally sound, factually stable, or legally clear. Lending credibility at that stage would not have been responsible. Endorsement does not become ethical simply because the story is compelling or the request is earnest.

There is a separate issue that often goes unspoken. Trauma exposure is not neutral. When professionals attach themselves to unresolved accounts, they inherit risk, both to themselves and to others involved. Ethical practice requires restraint, not proximity. Saying no is sometimes the most protective action available.

That said, refusing involvement does not mean abandoning someone. In some cases, referral is appropriate. When I refer someone to another professional, it is because their needs fall outside my current scope or availability. A referral is not an endorsement of every claim, decision, or narrative position. It is a directional act, not a co-signature.

People often find me because of my earlier work in handwriting-based behavioral rewiring, developed decades ago and refined through applied casework. That history explains the volume of outreach, not an obligation to re-enter every request that references it. Context is not consent.

This Dispatch is not about one individual. It is a record statement. Unsolicited requests for therapy, consulting, and co-authorship are common in high-stakes circles. Ethical practice requires clear boundaries, careful triage, and the willingness to decline even when the work appears meaningful.

Boundaries are not disengagement. They are part of the work.

“Originally drafted earlier; revised and archived here as part of the Ink & Integrity migration.”