Passing the MFT Licensing Exam: From One Latina Therapist to Future Healer.
By Rubí Vásquez, LMFT
From a daughter of immigrants, a mamá, and a therapist who learned English one word at a time.
To the future therapists who dream in two languages.
I passed my licensing exam for Marriage and Family Therapists (LMFT) on November 29th, 2023, and I’m sharing my story for the next generation of bilingual and bicultural therapists - especially those of us whose first language is Spanish.
Maybe you’re just starting this journey. Maybe you’re already deep in your clinical hours. Either way, I want to speak to you, the future healer whose story, language, and culture matter more than you’ve been told.
Do we all have to get licensed?
Let’s be real: not everyone needs to get licensed. In our field, it’s an option - but for many of us, especially BIPOC and immigrant therapists, it can open doors to leadership, independence, and visibility in a system that wasn’t built with us in mind.
I want you to know that whatever decision you make is valid. You are still a therapist. You are still enough.
But if you feel the calling to take that next step - to sit for the licensing exam - this post is for you.
Why I chose to get licensed
I chose to pursue licensure because I wanted to work independently. To build something of my own. To offer therapy in the language of my ancestors. And to be honest? Because what I earned as an associate therapist wasn’t enough to support my family.
This path isn’t easy. But if you’re reading this and considering it, know this: your reason is valid, your path is sacred, and your voice is needed.
From ESL student to licensed therapist: my journey with an accent
When I arrived in the U.S. in 2009, I didn’t know where to start. I enrolled in English classes at Los Angeles Community College. That’s where I met Mr. Joe Ryan, a teacher who saw something in me. He didn’t just teach grammar - he taught me to believe in myself, even when my voice shook. Even when I got it wrong.
Later, I had to take a speech class where I was supposed to learn how to pronounce English words using proper phonetics. During the final exam, the instructor told me I wouldn’t pass because I couldn’t pronounce the word car “correctly.” She told me I shouldn’t pursue music, and that I should consider a “better” career like nursing. Then she compared me to another student and said: “She’s smart. She chose wisely.”
I reported her to the program director - but they were friends. I didn’t pass the class.
Years later, in 2019, a professor told me I had a lower chance of passing the licensing exam because English was my second language.
I share all of this so you understand where I come from - why passing that damn test meant so much more than a certificate. It was a love letter to every part of me that had been doubted, dismissed, or underestimated.
Right before going to school.
I was in kindergarden.
How I prepared (as a mamá with two jobs)
Let’s talk logistics. Most people say the exam takes 10–15 hours of study per week for 3 to 6 months. But I was a mom, working two jobs. That timeline didn’t fit my life.
So I gave myself 6 months. I carved out time when I could - late at night, during lunch breaks, early mornings. I used Therapist Development Center (TDC) and it helped me focus on the material without getting overwhelmed.
No, I didn’t study perfectly. Some days I barely managed 30 minutes. Other days I cried. But I kept going. That’s the part I’m proud of.
Yes, I asked for accommodations - and it still wasn’t easy
Something I don’t want to leave out - because it might help someone else - is that I applied for accommodations due to anxiety. And I’m so glad I did.
I was approved for time-and-a-half, which gave me 6 hours instead of the standard 4 to complete the exam. That extra time mattered. It gave me space to pause, breathe, and not feel like I was racing against the clock. But I want to be honest: even with those accommodations, I was still running out of time.
The questions are long. The stakes feel high. And anxiety doesn’t always care how many hours you’re given. But I kept grounding myself in my intention - to serve, to grow, to cross this finish line for me and my comunidad.
If you're considering asking for accommodations, let this be your reminder: it’s not a weakness. It’s a strategy. You deserve every tool that helps you succeed.
The day of my test: support when I needed it most
On the day of my exam, I felt a mix of nerves and determination. Just when the pressure felt overwhelming, my friend and colleague Alejandra Trujillo, LMFT, encouraged me to think about my three wisdom figures who loved and believed in me, guiding me to ask them for strength and wisdom and to allow them to hold me no matter the outcome. I remember crying as I listened to her voice message. Even though my three wisdom figures are no longer on this earth, I felt their presence with me in that moment.
The day after my exam, my supervisor Adriana Alejandre, LMFT checked in on me. With excitement, I shared my license number: 143214. If you look closely, the three middle numbers are 321. Adriana pointed out the symbolism behind these numbers, and I cried again. Of course, from the warmth and happiness in my heart.
In numerology, sequences like 123 or 321 are often seen as symbols of progression, new beginnings, and being blessed with love and support - though interpretations can vary. For me, this felt like a clear sign that my wisdom figures were with me, holding me close through this whole journey.
The moment I found out I passed
I still remember the exact moment I got the news that I passed the exam. I was sitting alone when I saw the notification, and my first reaction was disbelief - I honestly thought I had failed. The weight of months of anxiety, hard work, and doubt hit me all at once. I literally threw myself on the floor, overwhelmed and unable to believe it was true. That moment wasn’t just about passing a test - it was a release of every fear, every “no” I had ever heard about people like me succeeding. It was a sacred, humbling moment of knowing that I had done it, not in spite of my story, but because of it.
I didn’t do this alone: My comunidad held me through it
I have to pause and honor the people who walked this journey with me - because I didn’t pass this exam by myself. My community held me tight.
My incredible supervisor, Adriana Alejandre, founder of Latinx Therapy, was one of the first people to remind me that I deserved to take up space in this field. Her guidance, encouragement, and transparency about her own process made this feel possible.
Yvette Flores, LMFT, reminded me through her wisdom and lived experience that there is power in being a therapist who leads with cultura and corazón.
My therapist helped me stay emotionally grounded, especially when imposter syndrome tried to creep in.
My husband carried our family with so much care - giving me space when I needed to study, take over for most of the parenting of our then 1 year old, and reminding me I was capable when I doubted myself.
And mi gente - my friends and colleagues - you showed up in every way. From helping me with logistics of asking for accommodations, to giving me breaks when I couldn’t even think straight, to letting me quiz you or talk through practice questions just so I could understand the reasoning behind them and see where I still had blind spots.
You all helped me remember that I was never walking this path alone. And to every future therapist reading this: find your people. Let them hold you. We don’t do this work in isolation - and we don’t have to prepare for it alone either.
To mi gente: this is for you
If you’re a child of immigrants, if you’re the first in your family to do this, if English makes you feel small sometimes - this message is especially for you.
You don’t need to erase your accent, your cultura, or your story to succeed in this field. In fact, your story is your power.
I passed the licensing exam not because I fit into the system, but because I showed up with my whole self.
And you can too.
A Voice Once Silenced, Now Licensed
For me, passing this exam wasn’t just about checking a box. It was an act of quiet rebellion. It was a sacred promise to every client I’ve ever held space for, every ancestor who prayed me through, and every future therapist who wonders if they belong.
You do. We do.
And whether this is your first, second, or third time taking this exam - please remember: this test was not made with your story in mind. It does not reflect your brilliance, your heart, or your capacity to heal. It does not speak your learning style or honor your resilience.
Your clients will never ask how many times it took you to pass. What they’ll remember is the tenderness in your voice, the way you honor their truths, and the sacred space you create for their healing.
You are not the number of attempts. You are the love you bring into every session. And that is enough.
Supporting Therapists Through Exam Anxiety
As therapists, we know the power of mindset - but that doesn’t mean exam stress isn’t real. If you're feeling the pressure, overwhelmed by the weight of passing, or struggling with self-doubt, I'm here to help.
I offer therapy services tailored for therapists taking their exams, creating a safe space to process anxiety, boost confidence, and develop strategies for success. You spend so much time helping others—now it’s time to give yourself that same care.
Drop me a message or comment when you're ready. You're not alone, and you’ve got this. I’m rooting for you - con todo el corazón.
