As we’re all acutely aware, to have been a Londoner over the past decade has meant being immersed to the point of asphyxiation in therapy speak. To converse in the modern day lingua franca is to be au fait with the (draining) concepts of ‘coping mechanisms’, ‘co-dependent relationships’, ‘avoidant attachment styles’. We’ve practised ‘self-care’ and shunned ‘toxic’ acquaintances (sometimes a tiny bit toxically). We casually diagnosed, self-diagnosed and received endless diagnoses in an alphabet soup of get-out clauses and emotional escape routes.
But is that all about to change? For years everyone made like New Yorkers and talked about seeing their therapist like they were just going to the gym, butrecently there’s been a flurry of chat about the thrilling advantages of a more British, less examined life. More and more people are parting ways with their therapists. Could this be a good thing?
