He looked at the psychiatrist, seated in an oversized brown leather chair. Her office was painted an ivory color, which he knew was intentional, as it isn’t an anger inducing color. As he observed her, he considered her wardrobe, which was a navy blue dress, and he wondered how much thought she put into what she wore everyday. Did she look at her schedule before she got dressed every morning to review the list of patients she would be seeing? Did she know their triggers and utilize her wardrobe as a way to avoid provoking them? As his mind began to formulate more questions, she interrupted him.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked her patient, noticing that he was no longer paying attention to their conversation.

He looked at her long, black hair, pulled back into a sleek ponytail, away from her face. He noticed the two gold wedding bands on her ring finger, curious as to whether she had intentionally hidden the diamond on one of them because it was large, and she didn’t want to give an unwanted impression in her profession.

“I’m thinking a lot of things,” he replied. It was, after all, the truth.

“And what might those things be?” The psychiatrist asked, pushing him for more information.

The objective of his sessions with the psychiatrist was to work toward having a healthier relationship with his adult daughter, not to develop one with the psychiatrist, after all. So far, however, his therapy sessions had done little more than make him question so many things about himself, including his interpersonal relationship skills.

“I’m thinking I was wrong about a lot of things,” he finally admitted to the psychiatrist.

The psychiatrist was surprised to hear her patient, the man she had been working with for the past three months, admit to any wrongdoing in his relationship with his adult daughter, but of course, she didn’t reveal this to him.

“And what might those things be?” She asked her patient, encouraging him to explore his thoughts in greater depth.

He considered all the effort his adult daughter had put into maintaining a relationship with him, in spite of his indiscretions, but his ego prevented him from admitting this to himself, let alone another human being.

“I should have never gone down that rabbit hole,” he finally stated.

The psychiatrist and her patient sat in a comfortable silence for the remainder of the hour. His admission that he has been wrong had made this a breakthrough session for her patient, and today, at least, that had been enough for her.