I am a fan of therapy: I always have been. Over many years I have ducked in and out of it, and I am more consistent these days. My attitude has always been if we can go to the gym for our bodies, where do we go for a good mind workout? Why, a therapist, of course. I adore mine, but I was treated to a rather unorthodox response last week when I shared what was bothering me.
I was having a fat day and shared this with her. The response I received was, ‘Well, everyone feels fat and ugly sometimes.’ I was shocked as I had not mentioned that I felt ugly. Inwardly I smiled as I wondered whether she realised what she had said. Later in the session, she mentioned how attractive I was, which I knew was her way of undoing what she had let slip. Afterwards, I began to think whimsically that maybe I needed a therapist to help me with my therapist.
The irony is that she actually cheered me up as it reminded me that no one is perfect. Not even a therapist, as it is a hard job, particularly when they are mindful of saying the right thing all the time.
All the best