I’m an American therapist based in Istanbul, married to a Turkish woman and raising a daughter between two cultures.
I didn’t plan to end up here. I came in my early twenties for what was supposed to be a week and stayed for 10 months. I suppose you could say I fell in love. (You wouldn’t be wrong.)
I came back later and never left.
That history is why I built my practice in Istanbul. It’s also how I came to know firsthand what it’s like to need help in a country that isn’t set up to give it to you in your native language.
Because the thing is, it’s hard to find a good therapist as an expat in Türkiye. Most English-speaking psychologists don’t understand expat life. And the therapists you find through directories often aren’t what they make themselves out to be.
So, here’s what I’ll offer in this post: an honest look at what expat life here does to people, what to look for in a therapist, and how I work with the expats and couples who find me.
What expat life in Istanbul actually does to people
The magic of Istanbul seduces you. The energy, the history, the Bosphorus at dusk, the Golden Horn at dawn. It’s intoxicating. Most expats arrive riding that wave.
Eventually, the wave breaks.
What’s underneath it can be disorienting. And it tends to show up in predictable ways.
Here’s what I see in my practice, over and over:
The bureaucratic grind wears you down quietly. Residence permits, notarised translations, the Nüfus, banks that require a Turkish guarantor. None of it is dramatic enough to complain too loudly about. But the cumulative weight of navigating systems you don’t fully understand, in a language you may not speak fluently, does something to you. You start to feel incompetent in ways you never did at home. That’s no small thing.
The social world is warm but hard to penetrate. Turkish hospitality is real – you’ll be invited to tea within your first week. But genuine depth is another matter. Language barriers often keep relationships surface level. Expat circles are transient. People come and go. The result is a certain kind of loneliness: surrounded by many, known by few.
Your relationship absorbs the pressure. If you’re in an intercultural partnership (especially a Turkish-foreign one) the cultural differences that seemed charming at first eventually start to generate friction. Family expectations, gender dynamics, communication styles, how money gets discussed, how decisions get made. These show up regularly. Unspoken assumptions end with the two of you in very different books just when you thought you were on the same page. I know this personally.
Identity shifts in ways you didn’t expect. You left home with a dynamic identity. You may not have liked it, but people knew you by it. Here, you become “the yabanci.” That label flattens you. Your professional confidence, your social ease, your sense of humor – all of it gets filtered through the lens of being an outsider. Some people find this liberating. Most, eventually, find it reductive and shallow.
The distance from home is real. Not just geographically, but relationally. You miss a parent’s health scare. You watch friends’ lives move on without you. “Home” becomes an ambiguous word. You don’t fully belong here, and you no longer fully belong there either.
None of this means the move was a mistake.
It does mean that you’re navigating something genuinely complex. And most therapists, even good ones, won’t understand that context unless they’ve lived some version of it.
What to look for in a therapist in Türkiye as an expat
Not every therapist – even if they speak English – is equipped to work with expats.
Here’s what I’d tell a friend who asked me how to find a good expat therapist.
Find someone who won’t need three sessions just to understand your life. If you’re spending the first month explaining what a residence permit is, why you can’t “just go home,” or what it feels like to lose your social identity overnight, you’re educating your therapist. You’re not doing therapy. Look for someone with direct experience of international living.
Make sure they work in your language at a native level. Therapy depends on nuance. The ability to say exactly what you mean and have it land precisely. A therapist who speaks English as a second language may be excellent. But if you find yourself simplifying your inner world to match their vocabulary, something essential is being lost.
Look for someone who does more than validate. Validation matters. But if all your therapist does is tell you that your feelings make sense, you’ll feel heard and stay stuck. The therapist worth paying for is the one who will also be honest about what they see. This includes the ways you contribute to your own difficulties. That’s where things actually start to move.
Make sure they understand intercultural dynamics. Not in theory. In practice. If you’re in a cross-cultural relationship or navigating Turkish workplace culture, your therapist should understand how cultural difference operates at a relational level. Not just acknowledge that it exists and move on.
How I work
I provide online therapy for expats via secure video. You can be in Istanbul, Ankara, Antalya, Bodrum, or a village in Cappadocia.
I’m based in Istanbul (If you are in Istanbul, feel free to inquire about in-person therapy) so scheduling is straightforward for anyone in the Turkey time zone. I also work across time zones with clients in Europe, the Middle East, and further out.
My approach is psychodynamic and relational. I’m less interested in giving you coping strategies and more interested in understanding what’s actually driving the problem. The patterns you’ve built and the feelings you’ve learned to avoid. We will explore the ways you get in your own way without even realizing it. That’s where real change happens.
I’m trained in Relational Life Therapy and PACT for couples work, and I’m currently training in ISTDP, an intensive form of therapy designed to help people quickly recognize and overcome the defensive behaviors that generate their suffering.
I’m direct. I’ll tell you what I see. I’ll encourage you to choose getting better over temporarily feeling better in the moment. That’s not always comfortable – but my clients will tell you it’s worth it.
I work with individuals dealing with anxiety, depression, identity shifts, avoidance, and self-doubt. I work with couples in general and intercultural couples navigating the tensions of building a life across cultures – I understand those tensions from the inside, not from a textbook.
Individual sessions are $175. Couples sessions are $225.
Other English-speaking therapy resources in Turkey
If I’m not the right fit, here are some other ways to find support:
Online directories. It’s Complicated and TherapyRoute both let you filter by language and location. Psychology Today’s international directory also lists therapists in Turkey.
Expat communities. Istanbul expat Facebook groups and forums are where people share therapist recommendations. Quality varies, but it’s a starting point.
Local clinics. Private hospitals like Amerikan Hastanesi and Memorial have English-speaking mental health professionals on staff. Availability varies and wait times can be long.
If you’ve been telling yourself it’ll pass
It probably won’t.
The anxiety, the loneliness, the relationship strain, and the low-grade sense that something is off are persistent. These are things that tend to settle in over time, instead of resolving on their own.
But they do make sense once you look at them with someone who understands the context.
You can learn more about therapy for expats, explore individual therapy, or book a free 20-minute call. No pressure. Just a conversation to see if working together makes sense.
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