Judith Basya has been giving advice her whole life, and people tell her she’s pretty good at it. Being Jewish weaves extra threads of neurosis into the anxieties of modern life. She’s here to untangle them for you, so don’t be shy. Email what ails you to [email protected]. She anxiously awaits hearing What’s Wrong with You.
I was sitting towards the back of a public bus the other day when my therapist got on. She didn’t see me and I didn’t say hello because it would have been awkward. And I guess I was curious to see what she was really like.
Well, first she ordered a sandwich on her phone, yelling at the guy on the other end that she couldn’t hear him and that her battery was low. Then she snapped at the woman behind her whose little kids were “screaming” — they were singing a song and not nearly as loud as she’d been on the phone.
So now I’ve completely lost respect for her, but I don’t want to spend $125 an hour talking to her about it. Or talking about why I don’t want to talk about it. But I don’t want to find a new therapist, either, because she’s actually been helping me a lot. Can I pretend this never happened?
Thanks in advance,
It’s widely acknowledged that shrinks are no more sane than the rest of us and that ultimately they’re trying to help themselves. We pretend that only the incompetent and comedy versions are narcissists–the decent ones, to borrow from a business dynamic not too far removed, are whoever we need them to be.
So if your therapist’s ugly side surprised you, she must have been successfully hiding it from you. And since you’re no more special to her than her other patients we can extrapolate that she obscures herself eight hours a day…. building up a certain amount of steam?
I’m not saying her behavior was justified, just that if you had a mental health professional in your social network it might not have shocked you. And at the introductory rate of $125 an hour, figuring out which childhood trauma this incident dredged up will cost you all of twelve bucks.
Ok I admit it, I’m Jewish and I want to date a Jew. In our open-minded, fluid world of intermixing peoples that’s a dirty thing to say. But it’s true, Ok? I want to read Kosher Sex and bake vegan Challah and love on Ben Gurion. Sue me. But online dating and Jewish events aren’t working for me; where are all the good Jewish men?
Don’t apologize for wanting to marry within your faith. When you’ve got three kids, a job and a husband, one set of holidays is more than enough. Especially if you’re Jewish and rule the world, why water down the bloodline?
However, your sign-off notwithstanding, you don’t sound sincere: vegan challah (also known as water challah for the past two millennium), Kosher Sex (seriously?) and “loving on Ben Gurion” (huh?) are lifestyle choices, not a basis for lifelong commitment. It may be that your dating methods aren’t fruitful because you aren’t ready yet or don’t really know what you want. Are you looking for a banker, a lawyer, a politician, a doctor or a media executive? When you can answer that your path will be clear.
You may wind up with a doctor instead of a lawyer, fine; my point is that you need more focus. Get the right job (if you decide on a banker you could also become a stripper), eat at the right restaurants, and you’ll be complaining about your mother-in-law before your eggless dough rises.
A blessing on your head,