I’ve decided to just come on out and say it, instead of whispering about it to my closest friends. I go to therapy*, and if I really believe there’s nothing to be ashamed of – which I do – then I might as well just go ahead and tell all y’all. In addition to being shameless, I also believe everyone should go to therapy. It’s probably one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself.
My therapist is a man named Dan. He’s a Christian, and he’s from New York. He’s good-looking and plays golf and softball and rides thousands of miles on his bike every week. It’s sort of sickening how emotionally and physically fit he is, but I suppose you want your therapist to be ok. It’s like wanting your hairdresser to have good hair. Or your dentist to have good teeth. My dentist does not have good teeth. I’ve been going to him since I was 10, and when we moved back to NC, I started going to a different dentist – a young, handsome dentist with good teeth. But I don’t trust him. Mostly because he told me I needed about $3000 worth of work done. Maybe he’s too good-looking: I just can’t trust someone that attractive. So I went back to my old man dentist with weird teeth. My teeth have been just fine for 16 years under his care, so I’m going to stick with what works. It’s a 25-minute drive, but it’s worth it. Plus, he doesn’t do his own dental work, right? (someone please affirm me) He told me I do need a root canal (sad), but I don’t need that other junk the good-looking dentist was trying to push on me. He told me he’d keep an eye on it. That’ll work for me.
*Except I like to call it “counseling,” cause it sounds less pathetic.