Life Coaching: Better than Therapy?
After two decades of traditional therapy, one skeptical writer gives it a shot.
Not that I was miserable: I got to spend my days doing work that I cared about; I had a partner (I call him my husband) who made me laugh and never bored me and, as a professor, was around and available more than most husbands; and I had two kids who made me feel as if I'd won the genetic lottery. Our professional lives gave us the freedom to spend summers at my mom's house on Martha's Vineyard; live for a semester in Paris, then Buenos Aires; and volunteer at our kids' schools. Still, I often felt overwhelmed and tired, nagged by a vague discontent—is this it?
After the exercise class, Gerber and I headed to a café for breakfast. "How was that for you?" she asked.
"I felt a little like I was being brainwashed."
She nodded. "Yeah, I'd say you're an eight."
"An eight what?"
"On the skepticism scale."
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