She had me there. As I walked out of her office, I was still perplexed as to why I was visiting a psychotherapist. My beloved old father would be so f*****g embarrassed right now. It was just not our way to talk about my feelings and s**t with a therapist. That wasn't how we did things. We swallowed it up, dealt with it, and moved on. Dr. Emerson was correct in this regard. Because I was a male, I was not taught to be honest about my emotions. A man. And I had a task to do: serve in the military, defend our country, and one day provide for my family. None of this would be simple, and I never imagined it would be.
I came to a halt in the corridor and turned around. I unlocked the door to her office and peered inside as I walked back to it.
"Are you still refusing to give me your first nam
