It Really is Okay to Be in Therapy

On Saturday, Wendy Piersall challenged her readers to write a post in 5 minutes or less…and to inspire readers in that amount of time. So, today I will take that challenge. Right now it is 12: 25.

I begin this post by telling all of you that it is okay to be in therapy, that it is okay to tell everyone (including your critical Mother-in-Law) that you are in therapy, and it is okay to call your therapist when you need to.

We are not perfect parents. No parent is perfect…not even the overzealous super mom down the street who seems to have it all under control. Trust me, she doesn’t. She has as many skeletons in her closet as you do (and she probably has spanked her child just as many times as the mom next door but will never admit it, of course).

No parent is meant to be perfect. That is why we are supposed to have Girl’s Nights Out and Playdates (you know they are really for us, right?).

And when things really don’t go right and we slip into dark holes during the winter that carry over until summer it really is okay to seek out a good therapist to talk about your non-existent sex life or the entire bag of donut holes you ate at 12:30 a.m. last night while watching Mad About You reruns. And it really is okay to talk about why you want to secretly be like Romy and Michele or why you give up and don’t brush his teeth for the third night in a row.

Parenthood is tough.

And it really is okay to be in therapy.

12:31.