Finding the 'Eye of the Storm' with Justine Duhr: Experiencing True Change in Modern Therapy
For over a decade, Justine Duhr navigated the solitary corridors of the editorial world, helping writers untangle creative knots from behind a computer screen. Today, that same dedication to narrative has found a new home in the consultation room, where she works as a relational psychoanalyst. The transition from editing manuscripts to co-authoring life stories represents a shift from isolation to profound human connection—a journey from the "wall of words" to the quiet eye of the storm. In our conversation, we explore the nuances of clinical agency and the modern myth that healing comes from an external authority. By bridging the gap between intellectual insight and experiential knowing, Duhr invites her clients to step out of the margins and become the true authors of their own lives.
Justine Duhr, LP-D, NCPsyA, MFA
Clinical Profile
Clinician: Justine Duhr, LP-D, NCPsyA, MFA
Practice: Justine Duhr, Licensed Psychoanalyst
Clinical Focus: Trauma/PTSD, Anxiety Disorders, Mood Disorders (Depression, Bipolar), Couples/Marriage Counseling, Grief and Loss
Location / Format: Licensed Psychoanalyst (LP-D), NY & NJ
Website: https://www.justineduhr.com
The Discussion
The Bridge: From Editor’s Desk to Analytic Training
Matthew: The way people are called to this field often ends up being quite unique. There are all kinds of stories and variables that draw someone to mental health work. When it comes to you, what is the story of how you came to mental health, and what was the bridge that led you to your practice?
Justine: Psychoanalysis is a second career for me. I was a writer and editor for many years, running an editorial service for over a decade. While I really loved that work and found it fulfilling, I started to feel that I wouldn’t be happy just in a small room with my computer for the rest of my life. I yearned for more connection. There are a lot of therapists in my family, so the field was always "in the air," so to speak. My own personal therapy journey contributed as well; I experienced first-hand how transformative deep analytic work can be and how empowering it feels to know yourself well.
Matthew: I find that connection between literature, storytelling, and therapeutic work absolutely fascinating. You were helping writers craft their narratives and get past their own challenges. When we read stories, they are really comments on the human experience—triumph, tragedy, and loss.
Justine: Exactly. Any story anyone is working on is, in some way, a story of themselves. Whatever form the narrative takes—fiction, non-fiction, poetry—it’s coming from a deep internal place. It’s always about the writer. As an editor and writing coach, I was already in a "helping" profession, helping writers get over creative blocks and the obstacles keeping them from the literary lives they wanted. That was my favorite part of the work. Entering psychoanalytic training and seeing people in therapy was a perfect opportunity to help in more ways than just creatively.
The Relational Lens: The Inextricable Self
Matthew: It seems the person is inextricable from the writing. As a clinician, would you say our personal lives are somewhat inextricable from the work as well? We maintain professional boundaries, but can you ever truly separate the therapist from who they are?
Justine: You can’t. I agree with that completely, and that’s the school of thought I trained in. I trained at the Manhattan Institute of Psychoanalysis,which started as an interpersonal institute decades ago and has evolved into a relational psychoanalytic institute. The whole premise of relational psychoanalysis is two human beings sitting in a room, connecting and having a relationship. The work centers around that relationship and what happens between the therapist and the patient.
The Myth of the External Solution
Matthew: There is often a depiction in media or social media about what therapy is. In your experience, what is the most misunderstood aspect of the healing process?
Justine: A lot of people, especially those who are new to therapy, come with a wish. They come to tell their story to this authority figure—this person who knows everything about their problems—with the hope that the authority will tell them what to do and how to fix their problematic lives. I so appreciate the saying that people come to treatment wanting to change without changing. They want to feel better, but they don't yet appreciate that the path to that outcome is within themselves.
Matthew: Right, the belief that the change comes from the outside.
Justine: It’s a myth. Any meaningful change must be internally motivated; it has to come from within. In my experience, when people figure that out in treatment, it’s a little bit like h*** s***. Like, that sucks. That really sucks… I have to do it. That’s really hard. The first reaction is disappointment—that it’s going to be harder or slower than they thought. But it’s actually a freeing concept. It makes you agentic. It puts you at the center of your experience. Things aren’t just happening to you; you’re making them happen. I see psychoanalysis as a process of getting to know ourselves as deeply as possible as a path to freedom.
Matthew: Our culture is masterful at perpetuating the ruse that the answer lies just outside of us—one more paywall, one more guru, or a dozen podcasts. It fuels the investment that the answer is in a remote place we can't access yet.
Justine: That wish is encapsulated in the question most therapists get all the time: "So, what do I do?" It’s nice to feel like someone else has the answer, but the work is about locating oneself at the center of the experience.
Practice in Action: The Eye of the Storm
Matthew: We can get obsessed with theory, but the work becomes tangible in those "aha moments." What does it look like in your work when something clicks for a client?
Justine: I had this experience recently with a relatively new patient. Initially, this person presented with what felt like a wall of words—a highly defended state where they were talking at me rather than being with me. It was like, "I'm going to talk to you, but you don't be here." Then, seemingly all of a sudden, they settled in. They relaxed into the couch, their body language changed, and there was more silence.
Matthew: I get a vision of a hurricane. You go through that wall of wind and water and then you hit the eye of the storm, where it’s calm. You realize a place of calm can exist within this person.
Justine: That’s a beautiful image. When the work starts to click, we get beyond the initial "Am I safe here?" period and enter a more reflective space. I can almost witness them making internal connections right before my eyes. To me, that shift feels like making a new acquaintance, like the person is meeting themselves for the first time. They start to consider their own participation in a situation or relationship—how they might have contributed in ways they weren't aware of. I see this ability to hold reflective space as a skill that can be practiced and strengthened over time, like a muscle.
The Informed Client and the Future of the Field
Matthew: The landscape of mental health is shifting. Previously academic jargon has entered the mainstream lexicon. How do you view the future of the field?
Justine: It’s exciting that people know more about therapy. They can educate themselves on psychoanalysis versus CBT or DBT. They come in empowered to make choices about what might work best for them in a therapeutic relationship. Of course, there’s misinformation out there, but part of the work is analyzing those preconceived notions and expectations.
Matthew: Clients are coming in with more insight, but they still need the process. I remember once someone came in and asked, "Where’s the couch? Where do I lay down?"
Justine: I’ve had that too! I say, "It’s right there, and if you want to lay down, you can." Some people do. But even with more information, there’s knowing, and then there’s knowing. You can know a fact intellectually—like, "Oh, I choose these kinds of women because my mother was like that"—and that's true on a top layer. But that kind of understanding is eons away from an emotional, experiential understanding, where you know something not by learning it but by living it. In the work, we go here, and here, and here. There are always more layers, and you can only get to them through deep, slow, insight-oriented work. It’s not just an intellectual exercise.
Matthew: You also mentioned a shift in how we handle specific populations, like couples.
Justine: I’m hopeful about the greater attention paid to couples work. There’s been a real upgrade from the handful of approaches clinicians used historically. While I appreciate a psychoanalytic approach to couples therapy, I also see its limitations. I weave in elements of EFT (Emotionally Focused Therapy) and Arthur Nielson’s integrative approach. I’m also interested in Discernment Counseling, which is specifically for couples on the brink of divorce.
Sustaining the Clinician: Presence and Evenly Suspended Attention
Matthew: This is an intense process that requires immense mental energy. People think we just "listen to problems," but they don't realize the mental drain involved. How do you maintain your stamina?
Justine: Outside of sessions, I recharge through yoga, playing with my dog, and reading, especially literary fiction. As a writer, I’ve always drawn energy from ideas, so I try to have at least one creative project open that my mind can return to in quiet moments.
Matthew: And inside the session? How do you stay present without burning out?
Justine: I strive for what Freud called "evenly suspended attention." I try to listen with a "third ear," letting the experience of being with this person wash over me without trying too hard or interfering with a naturally unfolding process. I aim to be present, both in my work and in my life, and I try to practice what I preach: center my experience and breathe.
The Wildcard: Pride and Prejudice Connection
Matthew: To wrap up, I have a wildcard question. What fictional character or storyline do you most identify with?
Justine: Oh, that’s interesting. Every book I’ve ever read is popping into my mind! It’s hard to choose, but maybe Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice. She’s on a journey of self-discovery and she isn’t afraid to ask the hard questions, of herself and of others.
Matthew: Oh yeah, I’m a big fan of asking the hard questions–much like the stories we find in bodies of literature, asking the hard questions of ourselves and others tends to make for a much more interesting plot.
Closing Reflection
Reflecting on this conversation with Justine, I am struck by the elegance of her "authorship" approach to therapy. Just as a writer must move beyond a "wall of words" to find the heart of their story, a patient must move beyond intellectual insight to reach a place of true experiential change. Justine’s ability to facilitate a reflective space—one that allows clients to meet themselves for the first time—is a vital skill in our rapidly shifting field. I want to thank Justine for her time and for reminding us that while the landscape of mental health may evolve, the core of healing remains the profound, shared narrative between two human beings.
