Confessions of a Love Doctor

by By Sherry Amatenstein

I stared into the auditorium at rows of trusting faces, then back at my adversary. “Yes. I’m very happy.”

Lying to a rabbi in front of witnesses: Integrity, MIA.

My choices were to dive back into the Kleenexes or begin taking stock. Truth was, I didn’t suck at helping people—and I did my best never to betray their trust or to promise more than I could deliver. What I sucked at was helping myself.

It takes more guts to ask for help than to offer it. But I refuse to continue being a coward. That’s why I took the twin leaps of entering therapy and enrolling at the Wurzweiler School of Social Work. And I’m finally in a respectful and nurturing relationship with the person I’ve most neglected—me.