Psychotherapy. If that word were ever uttered at my family’s dinner table the only thing that would follow would be the sound of crickets. You see, self-awareness and introspection were not family values taught in my house. What was taught was to meet expectations and stay out of trouble. Don’t ask hard questions; actually, don’t question at all. It’s no wonder that I grew up to be a “pleaser”—basing all of my decisions on my perception of the expectations of others.
Frankly, it is the easiest, least satisfying way to go through life. It doesn’t require a lot of thinking, but you are never true to yourself. The insidious thing is that you trick yourself into thinking you are happy and in control. What I finally learned is that it is impossible to be either happy or in control the way I was raised.
It was a girlfriend who uttered the word at the dinner table, not with my family but during a romantic dinner at a fine restaurant that I had wanted to try for a long time. She didn’t exactly say “psychotherapy,” but she did say “you should see a therapist.” Apparently, my inner unhappiness in the face of every reason to be happy became more than she could bear. I told her, in no uncertain terms, that she was off her rocker. I was perfectly fine and did not need to pay someone to analyze me and tell me how I should be living my life. Thank you very much.
