As a kid, I used to hear other kids laugh at my best friend. He was gay (although had not come out yet (he died of AIDS in his later 20’s)) and in high school he struggled with his internal feelings. He was also in therapy. Kids at school used make fun of him for seeing a “shrink,” I used to admire him for admitting he needed to talk with someone other than his parents or me. But, I thought I would never need a “shrink” because I didn’t have any “issues” to discuss. HA!
Now, I’m 50 and my “secret” is that I recently started to see a therapist. At first, I thought – why should I go to a therapist? What are people going to think of me? I’ve got a career I love, kids that drive me crazy, but I also love, an ex (don’t we all), great friends, family, etc. But, as you know, I’ve been getting a lot of signs from the universe and just needed someone to help me focus on pulling them together. That’s where Fran comes in.
Even with our closest friends or family members, no matter how easy it is to be honest, there is always some thin filter that your thoughts go through before they come out of your mouth. With Fran, I can talk about anything with no fears about how dumb I may sound. I’m emotionally free to say whatever I want!
Of course, running and swimming are forms of therapy. But there’s nothing like bringing in a cup of coffee and sitting on a comfortable couch with Fran — where my phone doesn’t ring, no one is yelling “mom” and I can just have some time focused on me (a pedicure works too!) Honestly, it’s like a staycation and it’s covered by insurance!
I think it would be so interesting to be a therapist. Getting to know and help people. But, I’d have to be a running therapist — I couldn’t sit as long as she does. My clients would have to meet me with running shoes, insurance card and off we’d go!
But, alas I’m just a lawyer whose thankful for my pseudo therapists, who put up with me on a regular basis – my running group, my non-running friends, my yoga instructor (who has no idea he’s helping me) and my blog (to name a few). All “therapists” of sorts and all important to sorting through this thing called “LIFE” (to borrow from Prince’s Let’s Go Crazy!).
Well, I’m off to what is likely to be my coldest one mile open water swim ever. Thank goodness I’m in the 50+ category with the “slower” people. And, this is July!
Here’s to a great day and a nice chat with over a cup of java!
theyearof50 