New here? Begin reading Session One.
I came home from my first session feeling charged and positive. Anna, my wife-to-be, greeted me at the door with a quick kiss. Typically, she didn’t ask about my clients, a fact for which I was grateful. Today was the exception. She was understandably more interested in the session, considering the fact that our future financial well-being was involved.
I responded to her question with the one, ethically safe answer available. I said that my first client was an interesting young woman and I enjoyed talking with her. Unfortunately, Anna wasn’t quite satisfied.
She asked about her age. I guessed late twenties. Then she had to know about her appearance. I finally commented, in an offhand manner, that she was attractive. As I said it, I would have sworn her face fell. It was probably just my imagination. Why was she asking me such a question? And did I say too much? She should know that I keep a steel curtain between the personal and the professional.
And then she made a comment that got my thoughts swirling. “You mean she paid that much just for talking with you?” As if that weren’t enough, she threw in another zinger. “I get to talk to you for free, and even then it isn’t much of a bargain.” This time I was the one whose face fell. That brief interaction kept playing over and over in my head. Anna’s not a cruel person. I hate to say it, but she found a sore spot. I do feel strange about asking people to pay me for talking with them.
I hated that her comment had stirred up my self-doubts. Was I charging too much? Was it worth it, just to talk with me? My insides churned. I felt like a fraud. Still, what I do is work…hard work. To Anna’s credit, she did give me a quick kiss in an apparent attempt to undo her hurtful comment.
Part of the gift and the curse of my training is that I process my own life in a way similar to what I do with my clients. The honesty required can sometimes provide a challenge. Along those lines, I’ll have to admit, in the privacy of my thoughts, that I did find Linda attractive.
As I played the session back in my mind, I came to a painful realization. I hadn’t done much of anything to earn my fee. Should I have done more? I was used to seeing clients who paid little or nothing. This was a whole different ball game. Deep down, I knew better. Still, I was determined to do something to show my value.
As I followed the trail of my doubts, I had to wonder at Anna’s reaction. She has to know that I’m doing this work for the both of us. It would have helped if she could have been just a little more supportive. She knows my insecurities, maybe even better than I do. As I think about it, she’s just trying to encourage me to be more assertive and in control. In thinking back through it, I almost had to laugh at myself. The very thought that she might be jealous was silly.
***
The next Tuesday, I sighed in relief when I heard the door open right on time. Linda had returned. I liked her. I felt we could make real progress. Seeing her, my earlier doubts faded away. However, a different worry raised its ugly head. I found it necessary to do a little self-check. I wanted to make sure I didn’t allow my personal feelings to get involved.
Linda greeted me with a smile. This time she was more casually dressed, wearing shorts and a tank top. I didn’t allow my eyes to move in the direction they were pulled. They were, after all, nice shorts.
She didn’t waste any time getting started. “I’ve been thinking a lot since I talked with you. There’s been a nagging thought in the back of my mind. I guess it was there before, but I had never allowed it to come fully to light. When we talked last week, I had to face it. I made this bed. It’s up to me whether I want to continue lying in it.”
I scratched my head. “I’m curious about your metaphor.”
A sudden change in her expression made me uncomfortable.
She said, “Okay, I guess I need to come clean with myself. I built my life on a lie.”
My forehead wrinkled. “Linda, the way you’re saying it…that’s not what I’m after.”
She smiled tentatively. “I guess I rush to extremes. There’s no need to be so harsh. It’s easy to see what happened. I was asleep at the wheel. I had a goal. I reached it. I didn’t allow myself to step back and see if it turned out to be what I really wanted.”
A lawn mower started up outside my window. I was actually somewhat glad for the racket. It was a distraction from the pressure that was building. I asked just loud enough to be heard over the sound, “What does that mean about you?”
She looked up. “I don’t understand.”
I didn’t say anything.
Her eyes opened wide for a moment before closing completely. She shook her head. “I guess I’m just like most people. We’re just like sheep. Point us in a direction, and we just follow the herd.”
My chuckle could barely be heard over the mower. “I can’t say for sure, but I’m guessing sheep don’t generally think about their situation.”
Her eyes opened again. “You’re right. I’ve been thinking about it—maybe too much. That’s why I’m feeling down on myself.”
Now that her eyes were open again, I held her gaze. “Let’s talk about choices.”
Her brow furrowed momentarily. “I don’t know what you mean. Oh, yeah. I guess that’s what I came in here talking about. I can choose whether I want to live this way.”
“Is that the only choice you have?”
She shook her head again. “What do you mean?”
I could tell by the way her eyes shifted that she noticed my tic. I silently cursed myself. I absolutely hate that my eyebrows twitch when I’m holding something back.
Luckily, she let me off the hook, as a smile played on the corner of her lips. She raised her hand up to cover her mouth as she turned her head away. Finally, she said, “Yeah, it’s the other choice that’s harder. There are things I could do to change my lifestyle, but I don’t want to do them.”
I nodded. “I can understand. It’s just easier to talk about lifestyle changes…outside things.”
She pursed her lips as she started playing with the clasp on her purse. “Okay, I’ve put myself in a bind. I guess I’m just spoiled and lazy.”
“Aren’t you making a choice right now?”
This time it was her lip that twitched. She looked down and shook her head. “You’re confusing me.”
“Am I?”
She looked up sharply. “I know what you’re getting at. I just don’t like it.”
A weed eater started up. The noise was almost so loud it hurt my ears. I was tempted to yell at the worker. Real smart—like yelling at a dog to stop barking.
Her left hand joined in the repetitive opening and closing of the purse. After a few seconds of various emotions playing on her face, she said, “Why don’t you leave me alone! I don’t know why I came here in the first place.”
Before I could stop myself, I said, “It probably would have felt better if you’d spent your time going to get a massage.”
With a brief laugh, she sat back. “Yeah, I know what you’re saying. I came in here to face the hard truths. But some are harder than others. When I start to take responsibility for how I live, I feel like a failure.”
“Linda, you’re the one who’s been focusing on your lifestyle.”
She shrugged. “I guess I’m a creature of habit. My lifestyle was comfortable. I didn’t see any reason to change it. At least, not until now.”
“Just a check—is there anything wrong with your lifestyle?”
She began fiddling with her purse which, once again, remained on her lap. Finally, she said, “I guess not. Well, I guess you could say that I’m taking and not giving. To be honest, I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“Are you saying that you feel a need to do more for others?”
She shook her head. “Not really. Should I?”
I had to chuckle. “Let’s just make sure you didn’t make a wrong turn. The church is on the next block. I’m more interested in learning what fits or doesn’t fit for you.”
Her eyes left mine and drifted over to a bare wall. “Oh, that’s a good question. It really hits home. I don’t think I allowed myself to think about it. Maybe it’s like that myth about how people supposedly live happily ever after.”
“I think you might be on to something. I’d like to know what there is about that idea that hits home for you.”
She scrunched her face. “It does more than I want to admit. I was always goal-oriented. My parents taught me to be that way. I was a high achiever. Now I’m just a leech.”
My forehead furrowed. “That sounds harsh…judgmental.”
She looked down. “Yeah, I’m pretty down on myself right now.”
She waited. I waited. I wasn’t going to rescue. This time it was her stomach that gurgled. I suppressed a smile.
I felt myself start to sink down with her and finally asked, “If you remove the judgment, could you be okay with the way you live?”
She shook her head. “It wouldn’t be possible.” After a beat, she said, “Well, I guess I could be. But that’s just not the way I’m put together.”
“What do you mean? “
“I could have the prettiest yard in town or join different committees. It just wouldn’t work for me.”
“Let’s talk about what would work for you. It could be something obvious, or maybe something less tangible.”
“You’re losing me. What could I do that’s less tangible?”
I smiled. “What are you doing right now?”
She returned my smile. “You know, you’re right. I’m stepping outside of my dead-end life and figuring out what I could do differently.”
“It takes courage to do that. It’s not surprising that it leaves you feeling sort of up in the air.”
She leaned back. “I hope you’re not thinking I need to do something dramatic, like leaving my husband?”
“Linda, I’m not talking about your husband at all. We’re here to talk about you.”
She let out a breath. “Oh, you scared me for a minute there. Are you saying that there’s nothing wrong with the way I live?”
“Is the doubt coming from me or from you?”
She suddenly sat up, sitting on the edge of her seat.
“To tell you the truth, I almost didn’t come back today. I just don’t see how talking with you like this is going to do any good.”
I kept my breathing steady. “What you’re doing right now… looking inside. It’s hard. You’re wondering if it’s worth the effort.”
“Well, I did feel a little better after the last time we met. But my husband made light of it, and I’ve been wondering if I shouldn’t be able to feel better on my own.”
“It sounds like it really upset you when he made that comment. What did it stir up?”
She sat back, but only half way. “Yeah, it hit me harder than I would have thought. I’ve relied on myself throughout my life. My parents are quite successful, and they always encouraged me to depend on myself and no one else.”
“You’re trying to tie two things that are rather complicated together. The was you were raised and your sense that you need to make a change to your lifestyle. I’m not saying there is no connection, but I think trying to deal with it from that persective could complicate things.
“How have you felt in the past when you accomplished things without help? “
“Happy, strong, and proud. I can remember things like being chosen as a cheerleader and making an ‘A’ in a tough math course. I felt so good at those times.”
“As you were telling me how well you felt, it seemed like you were not only remembering what happened but also experiencing the feelings you had at the time.”
“Well, yes, I was. That was the closest I’ve felt to feeling good in quite a while.”
She had opened a door. I felt the pull to rush in, to give her something solid to hold on to. I steadied myself, then took the risk.
“I’d like to try something that might help us understand what’s happening inside you. Only if you’re willing.”
She hesitated. “What kind of exercise?”
“You have a knack for connecting with memories. Let’s take advantage of it.”
Her shoulders softened. A smile flickered across her face. It hit me harder than it should have.
“It’s simple,” I said. “Just lean back and take a few slow breaths.”
“Close your eyes. Let your breathing stay slow. Picture your morning before you came in.”
Her eyelids fluttered.
“Just walk through it,” I added. “Step by step.”
As she settled, I caught myself noticing the curve of her cheek, the way the light caught her hair. I pushed the thought away.
“Allow yourself to return to a pleasant memory. One that feels vivid.”
The room was still. She removed her purse from her lap and sat back. I found myself focusing on the purse and wondering how expensive it was. I don’t know why something so irrelevant had crossed my mind. On the other hand, it was better than letting my eyes wander where they wanted to go.
I said, “You might close your eyes so you can get a clear picture of it.”
She was quiet for a moment. Then: “I took an advanced placement calculus class in high school…”
Her voice warmed as she described the day she got the top grade. “The teacher was tough. She complimented my work. I’d never heard her say that to anyone.”
I followed her tone. “What do you notice around you as you’re receiving the grade?”
She smiled. “The sun. The warmth. I can almost hear birds outside.”
“And how do you feel now?”
“Happy. Warm. Like I’m right back there.”
I hesitated —then pushed forward. “Touch the back of your left hand with your right index finger. Just lightly. Let that feeling settle there.”
She opened her eyes slowly, blinking as if the room had changed shape. “Wow. I feel terrific. I felt awful when I walked in. Now I feel… good. Really good.”
“It’s a positive sign. What do you take from the experience?”
She sat up straighter. “I can’t believe it. I’ve been so busy trying to be the perfect version of me that I forgot who I am.”
The insight came too fast, too clean. I noted it without comment.
“And what does that do for you?” I asked.
“I feel free. I can’t believe how tied up in knots I’ve been.”
“Are there situations where you might act differently now?”
“I’m sure there are. I’ve been so dumb.”
“Do you want to use what you learned to punish yourself?”
She laughed softly. “No. I get it. No more compulsive people pleasing.”
I nodded, though something in me tightened. “Over the next week, just observe yourself. No judgments. Notice what you do and how it fits into your life. We’re not making big changes yet. We’re just learning about Linda.”
She smiled again —grateful, trusting. It should have felt like progress. Instead, I felt the ground shift beneath us.
Linda’s Journal
March 3
After our session, I was genuinely feeling lighter. In fact, I felt better than I had in a long time. I still had some doubts about whether this shrink was strong enough to help me, but he did seem to know what he was talking about. He didn’t make me figure everything out on my own this time, so I was more comfortable.
He even did some sort of hypnosis thing that was just great. I’ve been practicing it several times a day, and to my amazement, it seems to work. It’s great to know that I have something I can use to get me through the tough times.
Talking with Bill got me thinking. I’m becoming increasingly aware of how much I’ve been living to meet other people’s expectations. It feels strange to look back on all the choices that I’ve made that weren’t really my choices at all. I’m amazed. I’ve always thought of myself as such an independent woman. And yet, I was always seeking approval.
It’s sad to think that no matter how much I work to improve myself, I will never meet the expectations of my husband and my parents. They are just so judgmental. It seems that I’m doomed to live my life as a failure in their eyes.
Since having dinner with my parents, I’ve been feeling like a complete loser. It doesn’t really make sense, but I feel like I’ve let them down. I was given an assignment to watch myself as I go through each day. I hate to say it, but I’ve been totally disgusted by what I’ve seen.
I’m having serious second thoughts about going back to see the shrink. I guess I should be able to get over it on my own. It’s really kind of silly of me. I’ve got everything I could ever ask for. What’s wrong with me? That’s funny. It’s the same question I started with.
Author’s Note: This story is being presented in serialized form. You may access the Table of Contents at drnealritter.com If you choose to subscribe be notified by email of additional chapters.