I went to see a therapist. I sat across from her and began to answer her questions. She was about 65-years-old wearing a short black dress embellished with large red roses. While I was crying when telling her about my woes, I asked her for a tissue. When she leaned over to hand me the box - she uncrossed her legs. And that’s when I noticed, without a doubt that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. I have no idea what I said in the session after the moment. It’s all a blur. Although – her reveal was quite clear. I made the decision to never go back after that first visit. After all, I was supposed to be the one with questionable behavior and problems. Feeling more like a fellow pea in her pod, I just didn’t think we’d have great doctor and patient success. It was just my basic instinct.
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