Haven’t you heard? Everyone’s in therapy now, or, at least, they’re acting like it—on TikTok, on TV, in the countless group chats turned book clubs unpacking newly iconic tomes like Attached and The Body Keeps the Score. We’re living in a golden age of mainstreamed mental health awareness, in which the trauma plot reigns supreme and therapy-speak is the new lingua franca, with both bequeathing us a cultural vocabulary for defining the ways we relate to each other (and ourselves) in the holy pursuit of self-care. Boundaries are in, gaslighting is out. If you’re not deep in your healing era, that’s definitely more than just a beige flag—at least, according to a standing army’s worth of very online mental health and relationship experts (and “experts”) eager to assist with manifestations and menty b’s galore.
In a way, Esther Perel is one big reason why we’re all here. Following the success of her bestsellers, Mating in Captivity and The State of Affairs, the Belgian American psychotherapist has become America’s preeminent authority on relationships; for those unable to partake in her private practice, Perel has spent the past decade dispensing her counsel via viral TED Talks, a card game, and, most notably, her hit podcast, Where Should We Begin?, which invites the world to listen in on her couples therapy sessions.
This summer, under Vox Media, the sixth season of Where Should We Begin? not only revives the show’s beloved eavesdrop-y intimacy, but also expands Perel’s purview with celebrity guests and behind-the-scenes details, providing a clear-eyed dive into the full spectrum of modern relationships. Which is to say: Amateur hour on the FYP might as well be over when Perel’s back at her desk. On matters of the heart, it’s better to leave it to the expert.
In conversation with Vanity Fair, Perel talks about the beefed-up new season of Where Should We Begin?, the pros and cons of our more therapized culture, and the reason we still can’t stop thinking about Taylor Swift’s dating life.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
Vanity Fair: What do you make of this current moment of mainstream therapy-speak? I’m thinking, just as one example, of how people on dating apps now brag about being in therapy.
Esther Perel: The conversation about mental health—you know, that therapy is not for “the crazies”—it actually has a lot of good in it. I come from a generation where going to therapy was the thing you never mentioned. The fact that it’s becoming a sign of being an evolved person is an interesting thing. It means “I’m thinking about myself”; “I’m reflective”; “I have an interiority”; “I’m a deep and self-aware person.” It has taken on this whole other aura! There is something about bringing more clarity and understanding to things that people have struggled with forever, and often in isolation.
But there’s a paradox. There is such an emphasis on the “self-care” aspect of it that is actually making us more isolated and more alone, because the focus is just on the self. The focus is not about the mutuality of relationships—the reciprocity, the way that you weave fabric, you know, between people who are relying on each other. On one hand, there is an importance in gaining clarity when you name certain things. On the other hand, there is a danger that you lose all nuance, that you’re basically trying to elevate your personal comments and personal experience by invoking the higher authority of psychobabble. What you call therapy-speak, we used to call psychobabble—it’s a new word for an old concept.
In the past, you could have said, “I think this, and so does the rest of the community.” So does the family, so does the church. Today you say, “I think this, and so does the DSM-5.” I don’t like what you do, so I say you’re gaslighting me. You have a different opinion, and I bring in a term that makes it impossible for you to even enter into a conversation with me. Labeling enables me to not have to deal with you.
But in the end, it creates more and more isolation and fragmentation. That is not necessarily a good thing for the community and for the social good.
The labeling has definitely infiltrated the way we relate to each other. People will read about attachment theory and then walk around with this specific identification as an avoidant, or an anxious, attachment type.
In the past, you would have said, “I’m a member of this party,” or “I go to this church.” Now you say, “I’m a member of this attachment group.” I think that putting people in boxes and reducing their complexity is problematic. If you start to name yourself by one little thing, you know, like, “I have insecure attachment,” what are you saying about yourself? Why do you want to reduce yourself to one over-important label?
Also, what this does is put clinical terminology into the hands of nonclinically trained people who then weaponize it. There’s a reason we go to school for umpteen years and continue to be trained until we drop dead, because we still don’t know it all. It’s very important to show that therapy is a highly relational, nuanced, and contextual conversation. That is very different from what you get on TikTok or IG or your friends in armchairs.
This is the sixth season of Where Should We Begin?, but you’ve also been in this field for more than 30 years. What keeps this work interesting for you?