I sit down in my therapist's chair. She puts her hand on my shoulder and says, "Whenever you're ready to talk, I'm listening." I tell her about my work deadlines, my loneliness, my son's disability and my misunderstandings with my husband.
And then she trims my bangs.
I doubt she has any psychology training, but my hairdresser has a gift for listening.
Like any good therapist, Sherry tells me to take care of myself, that I'm stronger than I think and that God is with me. She hugs me. She prays for me. And she's not afraid to tell me when I'm sabotaging my life.
Last night my hair went a little shorter and our session went a little longer. After laughing and crying in her chair for 45 minutes, I walked out with a new look, and a new outlook.
Not bad for $22.50 plus tip and taxes.
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