“Okay, let’s try this,” our therapist said, turning toward me. I didn’t like it when he pointed himself at me. He was supposed to remain neutral in his stance, or I thought he should.

“Do you look at relationships through the lens of power or through the lens of love?”

I inhaled and thought about it.

“Power,” Bobby said.

“I don’t think that about you,” I said, gently.

“I’m talking about you.”

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

“Why are you answering for me? I have a voice,” I said.

“Why do you think he has the wrong perception of you?” our therapist asked me. I turned my body toward Bobby. We were on opposite sides of the sofa.

“You think I look at relationships through the lens of power?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“You seem upset. Do you think it’s negative?” our therapist asked me.

“You both make it sound like it is,” I said.

“It’s a choice,” our therapist said.

I looked at Bobby, and he nodded at me like I had just been properly scolded.

“You haven’t explained why it’s a problem to think that way,” I said to our therapist.

“Do you agree it’s accurate?” our therapist asked me.

“What relationship isn’t about power?” I asked.

Bobby and I had taken separate cars to the therapist’s office, our rides to and from becoming increasingly excruciating. After our appointment, I took the long way to my car to think about what power I could give up.

Our marriage counselor was always pushing us into uncomfortable conversations so he could watch us interact and help us move our arguments from unproductive to productive. I had wanted to broach the topic of detachment in our session but got derailed by the power conversation. I was so pissed that I wanted to go back into the office and say that I had just done an exercise that showed me that I have very little attachment to anything. What would they have to say about that?

I knew that Bethanny’s asking us to make a list of ten things we weren’t willing to give up was a standard attachment exercise, a self-help tactic so you realize your attachments to items are a burden rather than adding anything substantial to your life.

I also knew that when you leave someone, there are things you must be willing to give up in your life. Things you bought together and things people gave you as wedding gifts, housewarming gifts, and other markers of progress. I could have told them that what I learned about myself is that I have no problem giving things up.

In fact, I had given up things before. Sofas, beds left in alleyways behind apartments I would never see again, along with people I would never see again.