Okay, let’s talk about this idea of traveling psychology careers. It sounds pretty cool on the surface, right? See the world, help people. I definitely went down that rabbit hole for a bit.

It started when I was feeling seriously burnt out at my clinic job. Same routine, same paperwork, felt like I was stuck in glue. I saw an article, probably some clickbait thing, mentioning therapists who travel for work. My ears perked right up. Imagine, sessions with an ocean view, or maybe helping folks in different cities each month. Seemed like the perfect escape hatch.
My First Steps Down the Path
So, I did what we all do: I hit the internet. Started searching for “traveling psychologist jobs,” “nomad therapist,” stuff like that. Honestly? The results were kind of thin. Lots of travel nursing, travel physical therapy… not so much for us psych folks.
What I did find fell into a few buckets:
- Disaster Relief: Groups like the Red Cross sometimes need psychologists after big events. Important work, no doubt, but it’s intense, short-term, and you’re heading into tough situations, not exactly vacationing.
- Military/Government Contracts: Working on bases or for specific government programs, sometimes overseas. Requires specific clearances and commitments.
- Correctional Facilities/Underserved Areas: Some agencies place psychologists in prisons or really remote clinics that have trouble hiring locally. Often short-term contracts, like 13 weeks or 6 months.
- Big Consulting Firms: Occasionally, large companies hire psychologists for organizational stuff, which might involve travel, but that’s more business psychology than clinical work.
Hitting the Practical Snags
The more I looked, the more complicated it seemed. The biggest headache? Licensing. Being a psychologist is regulated state by state here in the US. If I wanted to work in California for three months, then Florida for three months, I’d need licenses in both states. Getting one license is already a process; getting multiple seemed like a full-time job in itself. There’s something called PsyPact that’s supposed to help with telehealth across state lines, but physical practice is still tricky.

Then there was the consistency issue. It wasn’t like nursing where there are tons of agencies constantly placing people. Finding steady gigs seemed like it would involve a lot of hustling, downtime between contracts, and uncertainty. Not great if you have bills to pay.
I actually reached out to an agency that placed healthcare travelers. I spent maybe 30 minutes on the phone with a recruiter. Super nice person, but when I explained I was a licensed psychologist, they were basically like, “Uh, we don’t really get requests for that. Mostly nurses, PTs, OTs…” That was a bit of a reality check.
Rethinking the Whole Thing
This whole exploration took maybe a few weeks of serious searching and thinking. It made me realize that the glamorous “traveling psychologist” idea I had wasn’t really a common, straightforward career path. It’s more of a patchwork of niche opportunities.
It also made me think about why I wanted to travel so badly. Was it really about the work, or just about escaping the burnout? I realized a lot of it was needing a change of scenery and pace, not necessarily needing to conduct therapy sessions on a beach in Bali (though that still sounds nice).

So, what did I end up doing? Well, I didn’t pack my bags and become a globe-trotting therapist. Instead, I made some changes closer to home. I negotiated for a four-day work week at my clinic, giving me longer weekends. I started using those weekends for actual travel, short trips, exploring places nearby without the pressure of work.
I also looked into telehealth more seriously. It doesn’t involve physical travel, but seeing clients virtually from different places (within licensing limits, of course) added some variety. It wasn’t the grand adventure I first pictured, but it addressed the root feeling of being stuck.
In the end, the dream of a ‘traveling psychology career’ didn’t quite pan out the way I initially imagined. The practical hurdles, especially licensing and finding consistent work, were just too high for me right now. But the process of looking into it helped me figure out what I really needed, which was more flexibility and personal travel, not necessarily mixing the two in a complicated way. Sometimes chasing a shiny idea helps you realize what you actually value right where you are.