Maybe You Should Talk to Someone
“A therapist, HER therapist, and our lives revealed.”
Maybe You Should Talk to Someone, by therapist Lori Gottlieb, allows readers to peak behind the curtain and see just what goes on in a therapy session. Taking this one step further, the author allows readers to enter into her own therapy sessions with her therapist. I remember being asked in college if I felt strange seeking out a therapist for my own mental health if I was working towards being a therapist myself. The underlying concern seemed to be, “If you are struggling, how can you ever be of help to someone else?” Gottlieb argues her greatest asset as a therapist is that she is “a card- carrying member of the human race,” which is to say, that she has struggled and continues to struggle with what it means to be human. In grad school, one of my professors repeatedly said, “You can only take someone as far as you have gone yourself.” Part of being a therapist is committing to the ongoing work of being curious about ourselves as we invite our clients to be curious about themselves.
“Part of being a therapist is committing to the ongoing work of being curious about ourselves as we invite our clients to be curious about themselves.”
For those who have never been to therapy, this book serves as a wonderful invitation to consider how they might benefit from taking time to develop a “different relationship with” their “demons.” Demons, as Gottlieb describes, are a universal phenomenon and we all have our go- to methods for avoiding or numbing them out, whether we bury ourselves in work or turn to shopping or booze or mindless social media perusing. For Gottlieb, an unexpected break-up and subsequent emotional crises are what land her on the other side of the couch. Many people wait until they are experiencing an emotional crisis to ask for help, while others wander in with a vague sense that something is “off,” or they feel “stuck.”
Gottlieb introduces us to four clients, all with wildly different stories and reasons for seeking her out. She shares the lives of these clients in a way that invites the readers into the therapeutic process, which is both gradual and climactic. As you get to know each of the individuals who sit on the author’s couch, you come to love even the most initially grating of them. By allowing us to see the fears and vulnerabilities of her clients as well as herself, Gottlieb drives home a truth of therapy and of life: if you get close enough to anyone’s story, you will find something to love. When you reach the end of this book, you will have a better understanding not only of the experience of being in therapy, but also of the experience of being a person and all of the wondrous complexity that entails.