The Breakup Doctor by Phoebe Fox Read Free Book Online

healthy way is a learned skill, like playing the violin or being good at tennis. And as with musical talent or sports, some people are more inherently gifted at it than others.
    But it’s a skill everyone can learn—if they are willing. And until our school system realizes that teaching Conflict Resolution or Coping with Rejection might be as useful as calculus or physics—maybe more so—there’s me.
    Send me your questions, your worries, your deepest, darkest fears and angriest revenge fantasies, and I’ll help you through it all. I’ll walk you through every aspect of a breakup—what to do, what not to do, and how to carry the whole thing off with style and panache, no matter how messy, ugly, or nasty your breakup is. In this situation more than any other, the old adage is true: The best revenge is living well.
    You can get through it, and I’ll show you how. And believe it or not, when it’s over you’ll be grateful you got out of a bad relationship (because if it were a good one, you would still be in it, right?), and ready to find a good, healthy, positive one.

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    At the end of it I had written a thumbnail bio that stated that I was a mental health professional who ran a private consulting service for “the recently and reluctantly single.”
    â€œThis isn’t the article you showed me,” Sasha accused when she’d finished reading.
    I looked at her, my best and truest audience, and chewed my bottom lip. “Yeah. I got to thinking about Lisa...and what you said about me and breakups, and making the article more original, more personal, and... What do you think?”
    â€œBrook.” She shook her head, and my heart plummeted. “It’s fantastic! It’s perfect.”
    â€œReally?”
    She grinned at me and grabbed me into a hug. “It’s so you ! This is what you’re great at! Anyone can offer relationship advice, but you’re the best at breakups of anyone I know. I love it, Brookie. I love it.”
    In a spill, I told her about Tabitha, and how her phone call—and Sasha’s encouragement—had sparked the impulse to make the column more specialized.
    â€œI’m helping her, Sash. And your editor too—already I can see that they’re feeling better about themselves, stronger. It’s like an immediate gratification I never really get in my practice. Not like this.”
    She was beaming. “This is your calling, Brook. You were born to be the Breakup Doctor.”
    â€œWell, for now, it’s great. I’ve got some money coming in, I’m still able to help people until I figure out how to get my practice back on track...and it’s all thanks to you.”
    She waved me off halfheartedly. “Oh, now...it’s not all due to me. Maybe mostly .”
    I grinned and pulled her to me for another hug. “Thanks, Sash. You’re the best friend on earth.”
    She left for work a few minutes later, promising to call when she heard the reaction at the paper.
    At ten o’clock Stu called to offer his two cents: “Nice job, sis. And thanks for reminding me why I don’t get into relationships.”
    I laughed. “Grow up, little brother. I can’t wait until the right girl knocks all your bachelor BS flat on its ass.”
    â€œGood idea—a dominatrix. I haven’t tried one of those yet.”
    And Kendall read the article that night after work, sitting on the sofa with a bowl of ice cream and the paper spread out over his knees while I chewed my thumbnail and paced the living room floor behind him.
    He sat quietly for a moment after he read it, and then shook his head and found my gaze.
    â€œAmazing. It’s so hard to get my mind around the fact that people will look for advice on their most intimate issues from a stranger in a public forum. But it sounds good to me. Great job.” He folded the paper carefully along its creases and set it