Understanding Transference and Countertransference in Psychedelic Settings
By Madison Margolin
From the resurgence of psychedelic clinical trials to the decriminalization movement sweeping states like Oregon and Colorado, researchers, scientists, therapists, coaches, and underground practitioners are exploring how to best "hold space," seeing which approaches are most suited to which contexts. In the world of psychedelic coaching, where providers aren't bound by the same standards and practices that therapists are, there's nonetheless a core question they must navigate in the realm of relational dynamics: transference and countertransference—two psychological phenomena that can shape all phases of the psychedelic experience: preparation, the journey itself, and integration. These forces can amplify the emotional intensity of a session, influence trust, and even determine whether a client walks away feeling healed or harmed. So, let’s unpack what these terms mean, how they manifest in psychedelic coaching, and why they matter more than ever in this frontier.
What Are Transference and Countertransference, Anyway?
Transference and countertransference are concepts rooted in psychoanalysis, first articulated by Sigmund Freud over a century ago. In simple terms, transference happens when a client projects feelings, expectations, or past relational patterns onto the person guiding them—in this case, the psychedelic coach. Countertransference, meanwhile, is the flip side: the coach’s emotional response to the client, often triggered by the client’s projections or the coach’s own unresolved baggage.
In traditional therapy, these dynamics are well-trodden territory. A patient might see their therapist as a parental figure, replaying childhood wounds, while the therapist might feel irritation or protectiveness in response. But psychedelics throw a wild card into the mix, even in the integration phase. These substances can dissolve ego boundaries, heightened suggestibility, and unearth buried emotions and subconscious material, making transference and countertransference more amplified—and trickier to manage—than in a standard talk-therapy session.
For psychedelic coaches, who often lack the formal training of clinicians, this intensified relational dance can be both a gift and a challenge. The gift? A window into the client’s inner world that might accelerate healing. The challenge? Navigating these projections without the guardrails of licensure or a standardized ethical framework. (For more on the psychoanalytic roots of these concepts, check out the American Psychoanalytic Association’s primer on transference.)
Why Psychedelics Amplify Relational Dynamics
Psychedelics like psilocybin, MDMA, and LSD don’t just tweak brain chemistry—they rewrite the rules of human connection. Research shows that psychedelics can reduce activity in the default mode network, the brain’s “ego hub,” leading to a sense of oneness or heightened empathy. This dissolution of self can make clients more open to their coaches, but it also makes them more vulnerable to projecting deep-seated needs or fears.
Imagine a client under the influence of psilocybin who begins to see their coach as a wise shaman or a nurturing mother. That’s transference in action—amplified by the psychedelic's ability to blur boundaries. On the flip side, a coach might feel an overwhelming urge to “save” the client or, conversely, a subtle rejection if the client’s intensity feels too much. That’s countertransference, and it’s not just a theoretical risk—it’s a lived reality in psychedelic spaces.
MAPS has explored these dynamics in MDMA-assisted therapy trials, noting how the therapeutic alliance can shape outcomes. Their research underscores why coaches need to be attuned to these forces, even outside clinical settings. As psychologist Gary Fisher put it in a MAPS Bulletin article on the topic, psychedelic sitters are highly vulnerable to being idealized or vilified by patients in altered states, as the psychedelic experience amplifies emotional projections like love, hate, or dependency.
"[The sitter] is extremely vulnerable in this circumstance as he cannot avoid 'being seen' by the client. When the client enters into a state of clarity (transcendent consciousness) he sees all phenomena as they truly are. When the client reaches a state of grace (eternal bliss, nirvana) this does not present a problem to the sitter as the client, in that state, embraces all with complete love and acceptance. He does not just accept those aspects of the self that the sitter experiences as egosyntonic but accepts, with unconditional love, the total 'soul condition' of the sitter. However, in any other altered state of awareness, a circularity phenomenon can occur. The psychedelic voyager, because of his heightened state of suggestibility can 'join' the sitter in the sitter's own self rejection. This phenomenon - a collusion, as it were - of rejection of aspects of the sitter will activate the sitter's awareness of his own (self-judged) deficiencies and he will experience the client's rejection of him. This triggers counter-transference in the sitter who then rejects the client for rejecting him. All of this happens simultaneously without the sitter having the opportunity to process the sequence of events."
The Unique Role of Psychedelic Coaches
Fireside Project’s approach stands out in this untamed landscape because our coaching program is built on a foundation of emotional support and guidance, deliberately steering clear of diagnosis or treatment. What makes Fireside special is its commitment to clarity and safety—coaches are trained to hold space for clients preparing for or processing psychedelic experiences, while maintaining firm boundaries. This intentional framework transforms murky concepts like transference and countertransference into practical tools for fostering trust. For example, a client might project reverence onto a coach during preparation, seeing them as a psychedelic sage, or later cast blame for unmet expectations during integration. Fireside’s coaches, equipped with self-awareness and structure, meet these dynamics with grounded presence—offering not just flexibility, but a rare and steady anchor in an otherwise uncharted field.
Fireside is unique in offering training to hired employees, while providing supervision to our coaches. All other companies have coaches as independent contractors, which means far less oversight and accountability.
By hiring coaches as employees only after a year of training, by employing them, and by supervising them in a model that focuses on transference and countertransference, we are doing our best to establish meaningful guardrails, precisely so that the only checks are not personal integrity and norms.
Transference in Action: The Client’s Lens
Let’s break it down with a scenario grounded in real-world patterns. A client hires a psychedelic coach to prepare for an ayahuasca retreat. She’s drawn to the coach’s calm demeanor, which reminds her of a supportive teacher from her youth. As they discuss intentions, the client starts to lean heavily on the coach’s guidance, texting late at night with questions and seeking reassurance. She’s transferring a need for stability onto the coach, a dynamic turbocharged by her anticipation of the psychedelic experience.
In a psychedelic setting, this can escalate fast. During the retreat, the client might fixate on the coach’s presence, interpreting every word as profound wisdom—or, if the trip turns dark, as a betrayal. Post-session, she might cling to the coach for integration, expecting them to unravel every vision. This isn’t just attachment; it’s transference, shaped by psychedelic-induced heightened vulnerability.
Countertransference: The Coach’s Inner World
Now flip the script. The psychedelic coach might notice their own reactions bubbling up. Maybe they feel flattered by the client's admiration, or perhaps they’re unsettled by their neediness, triggering old feelings of being overwhelmed by a demanding parent. Either way, their emotional response, whether internal (and suppressed) or revealed, isn’t neutral; it’s a mirror to Sarah’s projections and their own history.
This is where coaching might get dicey, as the coach will need to have enough self-insight to recognize these feelings, process them in supervision, and adjust their approach in order not to overstep boundaries to “rescue” the client or withdrawing to protect themselves. Both can disrupt the client’s process, or worse, cause harm.
The Risks of Unchecked Dynamics
Here are the stakes: when transference and countertransference go unaddressed, they can derail the psychedelic experience, preparation, and integration process. A client who idealizes their coach might become overly dependent, stunting their own agency. A coach who misreads their own feelings might push a client too hard—or pull back when support is needed most. In extreme cases, blurred boundaries can lead to ethical breaches, like emotional manipulation or inappropriate intimacy.
The psychedelic community isn’t blind to this. Organizations like the *Chacruna Institute* have flagged the risks of power imbalances in psychedelic spaces, especially in unregulated roles. Their [articles on ethics](https://chacruna.net/) highlight how transference can amplify suggestibility, a concern echoed in harm reduction circles.
Tools for Psychedelic Coaches to Navigate the Terrain
So, how do coaches handle this? Here are some practical strategies, drawn from the field and the psychedelic ethos:
1. Set Clear Boundaries
Before a session, coaches should define their role—say, “I’m here to guide, not to heal you.” This clarity can temper client projections and ground the relationship.
2. Reflect on Your Reactions
Coaches need to check in with themselves. Feeling unusually protective? Annoyed? That may be countertransference talking. Journaling or debriefing with a peer can help unpack these emotions without letting them steer the session.
3. Name the Dynamic
If transference feels palpable—like a client treating you as a guru—gently call it out. “It seems like you’re looking to me for answers; what do you think they might be?” This invites the client to own their process.
4. Know Your Limits
If a client’s projections or the coach's own reactions feel overwhelming, it’s okay to refer out. Psychedelic coaches aren’t therapists, and recognizing that boundary is a strength, not a weakness.
5. Join a community of coaches
For coaches who don’t work at Fireside and/or who don’t have access to meaningful supervision, the next best thing may be joining a community of other coaches. Services like Psychedelic Guides Network and Tam Integration, among others, are starting to offer weekly coaching peer support meetings, where coaches can process difficult cases with other coaches.
The Bigger Picture: Ethics and Evolution
Zoom out, and this isn’t just about individual sessions—it’s about the future of psychedelic coaching. As psychedelics edge toward legalization, the role of coaches will evolve. Some argue they’ll need more formal training to handle these dynamics safely; others see their outsider status as a strength, free from the baggage of institutionalized therapy.
The California Institute of Integral Studies (CIIS), through its psychedelic training program, is already bridging this gap, offering frameworks that coaches could adapt. Meanwhile, grassroots efforts—like Fireside’s coaching program—prove that community-driven care can thrive without gatekeeping.
Psychedelic coaching is a raw frontier. Transference and countertransference aren’t just quirks of the trade; they’re the heartbeat of the relationship between coach and client. For those holding space in this wild terrain, awareness is the compass. It’s not about perfection—coaches are human, after all—but about showing up with intention, humility, and a willingness to look inward.
Fireside Project does not condone the use of illegal substances including psychedelics. If you choose to partake we encourage safety and awareness.
