One of the great things about being a bus driver, besides the awesome parents and their amazing kids, is that when we drive field trips to cool places, we get time to wander around those places. And drivers never pay. They just let us in. That's a definite bonus. The bigger one? Every once in a while Jason's schedule opens up and he pops up for a fun little bit of time together. That's been about 90% of our "dates" in the last year or so.
My best friend Krystle drives a bus too. We met in the training class getting our CDLs. She's my person. One of those people who gets me on a whole other level, someone I can go three months without seeing and you'd never know, because she jumps right back into the middle of things like she never missed a beat. Which is good, because even though we both run an elementary route for the same school, we mostly just get to wave at each other twice a day.
She and her husband run a successful contracting company here in town, she has an awesome kid, and because apparently that isn't enough, she's going back to school for a degree in accounting. My goal in life might be to be Krystle someday.
But she is not what I'm actually trying to tell you about, so I'll try to move on.
This past school year, a zoo trip came up and we both got assigned to drive it. And then Jason showed up too.
A super bonus day.
Krystle had homework, so Jason and I got a mini date. We held hands and walked around the zoo, kid free. We watched the momma orangutan play with her new baby and laughed at the baby-ape antics, and at how the human world and the animal world are really not that different sometimes. We got lunch and had an actual adult conversation about nothing of any importance other than whatever was on our minds. Then we headed back and hopped on Krystle's bus to talk until the teachers and kids started lining up.
Jason had time, so he stayed and talked too. Somehow we got on the subject of YWT and how it was going, because as a business owner herself, Krystle understands the frustrations and the wins and the losses. (And before anyone worries: Jason does not tell stories with people in them. Not to me, not to anyone. The man is a vault. It's honestly a little annoying.) I don't remember exactly what brought it up. That's how it is with your person; the conversation doesn't have seams. But at some point I looked Krystle straight in the eyes and said: isn't it crazy that I don't even believe in therapy?
That was, and probably will be, the only time I have ever stunned my best friend into absolute silence.
Jaw on the ground.
Crickets, y'all.
Now, I've probably said that exact thing to her before. But the business is still pretty new, and I guess it doesn't hit the same until you're sitting across from the woman who owns and runs a therapy practice. It's also not the first time I've gotten that reaction when someone finds this out about me.
People find out my husband is a therapist and they make certain assumptions.
That we communicate perfectly. That we never fight, or if we do, we fight well. That our house is calm. That I understand and agree with everything he does.
I want to be honest with you about all of these.
The communication one I've addressed; we do not always communicate perfectly. Sometimes there is yelling. Sometimes three days of quiet about the thing on the kitchen counter. Sometimes I pick a fight because I know I'm wrong and I'm not ready to say so.
Twenty-two years in, still working on it.
The calm house one I will not even dignify.
But the assumption that makes me laugh the most, the one that gets the best reaction when we correct it, is the idea that I believe in what my husband does for a living.
I don't.
I really, genuinely, not-joking do not believe in therapy.
I think some people need someone outside of their orbit to talk to. Or talk at. I think there is value in saying the thing out loud to someone required to listen without judgment. I understand that. I respect that.
But the clinical framework? The diagnosis and treatment plans and modalities? The idea that fifty minutes a week reorganizes how a person moves through the world? I'm skeptical. Always have been. Still am.
In case you hadn't noticed, we own a therapy practice. (🫨) This is our livelihood. Jason has a graduate degree, years of training, clients who are genuinely helped by his work.
And I, his wife, the one who answers the emails and updates the website, think it's a little bit of a hoax. The moment people find this out is one of my favorite things in social situations.
There's a beat.
A pause.
Eyes go back and forth between us, landing on Jason to check if I'm joking.
Then back to me, then back to Jason.
An uncomfortable laugh starts forming.
And then they see we are both completely, entirely serious.
Jason is not offended. He has heard this before. From me specifically, many many times. He finds it funny at this point. Mostly.
I find it hilarious. Always.
Here's what's true underneath the joke: I don't have to believe in therapy to believe in Jason. I don't have to agree with his framework to respect his work. And I have worked harder than most people with my level of skepticism would bother to, learning the language, the concepts, the why behind the how. Not because I converted. Because he loves his work, and I love him, and that's enough reason.
What I found in all that reluctant studying is that some of it lands, even for me. Not the framework or theory. The human parts. People carry more than they show. Most behavior makes sense if you know enough of the story. The thing someone is upset about is rarely the actual thing.
The same parts you can watch a momma orangutan prove, for free, at the zoo.
I didn't need a degree to learn that. I needed two decades of marriage and four kids and a life that has been, at various points, a lot. But I've picked up a few useful things from Jason that life might not have taught me otherwise. And yes, sometimes I catch myself using them, without realizing it until much later. So, no. I don't believe in the whole enterprise the way he does. We are not a unified front on this and probably never will be.
But we built something together because we believe in each other, and I show up for it every day. Not because I think therapy is the answer to everything, but because Jason is pretty good at what he does, and the people who find their way to him usually needed to find their way to him.
People always know when they've found their person. Krystle is mine. Jason is that person for a lot of people.
Knowing he's good at it, and he's happy? That's enough for me.
The look on Krystle's face, though?
— Holly | Life Behind the Screens
