I never wish my therapist was my real mom. As a real mom, he would be nagging about clothes on the floor, or yelling at me when he was annoyed with me. Plus, he is far from perfect. He is forgetful and disorganized and might well drive me nuts if I had to rely on him.

Overall, I think I get the better part of him.

I see him 100 minutes a week, which is not so much that he gets sick of me, or irritated with my flaws. He tries to put aside his own problems for that time, and focus on what goes on in the office. He might tell me when he is angry, but he is careful about how he does it. He helps me hold myself together, and never asks that I do the same for him.