No, the above title does not refer to finding the right partner. I’m talking about finding the right couples therapist, because hopefully you are already with the right partner—you just need help realizing it.
I’m a big fan of therapy, but not so much of bad therapy. Too often I find that people I know just jump right in with the first shrink they try… and then spend the next two years complaining about said shrink. Would you continue going back to the same hairdresser if he kept giving you unflattering haircuts? Um, nooooo. So why do so many of us think that it’s OK to just keep trudging back to torture on a couch when it comes to our relationships?
A bit of personal history. When we realized our relationship was in trouble, Mr. X and I found a wonderful therapist right off the bat. Or so we thought. Dr. A was funny and positive and we spent 14 months listening to her extol the virtues of our coupledom. Then, bam!, she retired . We had to find a new therapist, and we realized that, honestly, Dr. A hadn’t ever really forced us to face hard facts.
On to Dr. B. It took two sessions with her to send us out of there, running like hell in the other direction. She only had bad things to say about our coupledom—not one virtuous comment came out of her frowning mouth. Sorry, I’m already in the dumps enough about my relationship, thank you very much.
We decided to give individual therapy a shot. I liked mine a lot. Young and empathetic, Dr. C was the perfect sounding board to my angst. But she wasn’t a couples therapist. And then she moved to New York. Sigh. Go Back to Start.
I got yet another referral and headed to Therapist Central, a medical office building housing dentists and, you guessed it, therapists. Dr. D was in her early sixties and seemed nice. But I kept getting the feeling I was talking about these intimate, disturbing problems with my mom, which I can tell you is not very therapeutic. I just could not make myself open up, especially when it came to talk about sex. Yuck—kind of like thinking about your actual parents doing it.
I told Dr. D about my blockage and she referred me to Dr. P—P for Perfect. Dr. P was just down the hall and as soon as I entered her office I knew she was it—love at first sight. I pulled Mr. X in the following week and he, fortunately, felt she was the best bet yet. A Jewish displaced New Yorker, a bit older and wiser than either of us, she had that tough-love way about her that forced us to peer into our inner selves, dig out the noxious crap that had accumulated, and mold it into something bearable, even positive.
Two years and hundreds of sessions later, we made the painful decision to separate. But it was a well-thought out, respectful decision between the two of us. And we’re on good terms, really good terms. More importantly, our children didn’t suffer at all.
So, my advice? Check out three therapists. Give each a maximum of two sessions. If it doesn’t click, get a couple of referrals from them and move on to the next one until you find Dr. Right. The shrinks understand—they don’t want to waste their time with you either if it’s no good. Kind of like dating. Remember that? Sure you want to return to that torture?
Now go do something nice for yourself. A movie date seems like a very fine idea.
—The Fine Divorcée
afinedivorce 