Don't fall for the Therapy Girlfriend

A woman films her boyfriend standing sheepishly in their kitchen. He holds his pudgy pink hands together like a nervous ballerina. “So, basically you puked in the bed on Sunday night,” she says, as clear and stern as a primary-school teacher. “Yes I did,” he confirms with inappropriate confidence. The list of infractions lengthens. “How many did you have tonight?” He admits to three; she argues four. “Is that one drink? Let me ask you — is that one drink.” “No,” he admits, balancing flamingo-like on one shoeless leg. She dumps him, guiding him expertly through little tantrums and bargaining and despair. This is a grown man, a partner of three years, being handled like a Year 5 who puts chewing gum in girls’ ponytails. Social media would have us believe that this dynamic is now the norm in