First, I fired my marriage counselor.

My marriage counselor was recommended to me by my first attorney. Their practices were both in the same building – so convenient, so convenient. I remember the first time I met my counselor – I liked her right away. She had a no-nonsense approach that left little to interpretation and I value that in others; I don’t enjoy trying to read between the lines. Her waiting room was serene and it smelled nice, her office was bright, full of natural sunlight and reference books. She sat down with me and started to work immediately – skipped the pleasantries and got right to the good stuff. 

I dig this woman – she’s so efficient. 

But I will tell you – I was turned off at the end of our first visit when she asked me to write a review on Yelp. Justifying that she had to fight back against those who were leaving negative comments because they didn’t care for her tell-it-like-it-is approach, she insisted she must bring more balance to her online reviews, and I could help with that. “If you got any value out of this session, you owe me this,” was the subtext I read in her request. I walked out of her office a little stunned. 

Odd. That’s a helluv an ask after the first date. 

I paid her for her time – we’re square – I don’t owe her shit. 

Rachel, you’re making a mountain out of a molehill – let it go. 

Which of those thoughts do you think I chose? Hah! Of course the molehill one. Of course. Did I write the review? Fuck no. But I kept going back. 

I kept going back. Do you ever look over your shoulder and wonder why you kept going back? Back to a job that isn’t fostering growth. Back to a relationship that isn’t loving. Back to a counselor that rubbed you the wrong way. 

Just for a second. But still. 

I had several sessions with this woman. Requested my husband meet with her, even. I think he tried, but they couldn’t align schedules – that’s neither here nor there anymore anyway. Each time I met with her there was a little something said that stopped me in my tracks. An off comment here. A backhanded compliment there. And I convinced myself it was all part of her approach – and maybe it was, but that doesn’t mean her approach was for me. I love candor, I do not love condescension. The day she told me I’d be pathetic if I stayed in my marriage and tried to work it out with my husband was the day I decided she can go fuck herself. I called her when I got home from that session, thanked her for her time and told her I wouldn’t be coming back. She was surprised. 

Only you can know what you want. And only you can decide whether you’re gonna nut-up and pursue it. It’s not for anyone to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do, and what you will or won’t be if you do or don’t do it. You gotta do you, buttercup.