I’ve gone to therapy at several points in my life. The first time was after a breakup. This is actually a pretty common time to seek help — lots of people go to therapy after a big life event.
But the second time I went, I didn’t have a “big” reason.
In fact, on paper, my life was going pretty well. I’d just moved to New York — a city I’d always dreamed of living in — and I had just started a master’s program in playwriting, a subject I loved. My classes were going well and I’d just started dating the man who’d later become my husband.
