In this country, you gotta make the money first. Then when you get the money, you get the power. Then when you get the power, then you get the women. Tony Montana

…and then you get the couples therapy. Daniel Dashnaw.

So, they sit down on the couch in my office—the Trump Bro and his girlfriend. He’s decked out in red, white, and blue, like a Fourth of July lawn ornament, complete with the cap, proudly proclaiming his loyalty. I can tell right off this isn’t the usual couples therapy.

His girlfriend, meanwhile, looks like she’s been dragged here against her will, clutching her phone like it’s a lifeline to the outside world. She seems both amused and exhausted.

“Daniel,” she says, cutting straight to the chase, “I just don’t know how much more I can take.” She glances over at him, and he flashes her a look of endearing obliviousness.

“What seems to be the problem?” I ask, pen ready, my best therapeutic voice on.

There’s something truly wonderful about a story that leaves room for interpretation—a narrative that doesn’t hammer its meaning into us but instead invites us to wander around and discover for ourselves.

This approach, often called “narrative openness,” is like a choose-your-own-adventure for adults, minus the treacherous caves and pirate maps (though those would be fun too).

But narrative openness isn’t just a stylistic choice in storytelling; it’s also a quality that enriches our lives in subtle, surprising ways. So let’s dig into why leaving room for possibility in our stories, and in our lives, can bring both pleasure and consolation.

Life can sometimes feel like it’s hit a standstill.

Maybe you’ve reached a point where the future feels like a closed book, or maybe you’ve struggled with feeling unrecognized, like others don’t see the potential you know is there.

These experiences can feel isolating, but they’re also surprisingly common—and there are names for them. Two concepts that capture these feelings are narrative foreclosure and covert narcissism, and they both reveal a lot about how we understand ourselves and our stories.

Add the influence of cultural narcissism—our society’s fixation on external success and validation—and it’s easy to see why many people feel disconnected from their own sense of purpose.

Let’s explore these ideas, looking at how they impact us, how they’re shaped by our culture, and ways to reconnect with ourselves in a meaningful, fulfilling way.

In the field of gerontology, Dr. Robert Butler is a name that resonates with warmth and wisdom. His groundbreaking idea of a “life review” transformed how we understand aging, memory, and the quest for meaning in later life.

Introduced in the 1960s, the life review concept suggests that older adults naturally engage in an inner process of revisiting their past—reflecting on pivotal moments, sorting through life’s highs and lows, and often seeking closure for lingering regrets.

More than a journey down memory lane, Dr. Butler’s life review has become a foundational approach in end-of-life care, therapeutic settings, and aging psychology.

In this exploration, we’ll dive into the life review’s psychological benefits, its impact on end-of-life care, and some of the thought-provoking critiques that have emerged.

Russia’s “Ministry of Sex” proposal isn’t just an eye-catching headline; it’s a response to a profound, urgent demographic crisis.

The country’s birth rate has been on a steep decline, worsened by the ongoing war in Ukraine and the economic struggles it brings.

In short, Russia’s population is shrinking, and the government is pulling out all the stops—however unconventional—to boost it.

This strategy isn’t as bizarre as it sounds when you dig into the historical and cultural factors at play. So, let’s break down the “why” behind Russia’s potential dive into state-sponsored romance.

When we think about aging, it’s easy to view it as something inevitable—like an old car slowly breaking down. But Dr. Tom Kirkwood, an evolutionary biologist, offers a different perspective.

His research suggests that aging isn’t about a “programmed” decline; instead, it’s a consequence of how organisms (like us) allocate limited resources between growth, survival, and reproduction.

In other words, we’re always balancing how much energy we put into thriving in the present versus maintaining ourselves for the future.

For couples, this framework offers valuable insights into building a relationship that’s resilient, adaptable, and full of life—even as it matures. Let’s explore how Kirkwood’s ideas can bring warmth, strength, and longevity to relationships.

With another election season behind us, therapists everywhere may be gearing up for a busy post-election holiday season.

Political divides can run deep, and family gatherings in these times are rarely immune to the pressures of differing opinions and generational clashes.

Yet, the season also holds the potential for understanding, empathy, and—perhaps—a family truce.

Originally developed to help dementia patients reconnect with their sense of self, Reminiscence Therapy suggests that accessing emotionally charged memories stimulates brain regions associated with happiness, calm, and self-identity.

Researchers such as Dr. Robert Butler (who coined the concept of “life review”) and Dr. Tom Kitwood (pioneering person-centered care in dementia) demonstrated that revisiting meaningful memories fosters not just personal well-being but also a sense of connection with others.

If you spent your teen years pledging purity and dreaming of your future spouse, only to later discover that your romantic life feels more “oh no” than “oh wow,” you’re not alone.

New research published in Sociology of Religion has uncovered a less-than-holy revelation: for many white Christian women who embraced purity culture, the “gift” they were saving for marriage came wrapped in sexual pain, shame, and dissatisfaction.

The 4B women’s movement, known as 4B 운동 in Korean, stands for four “no’s” that guide its philosophy: no dating (연애), no sex (섹스), no marriage (결혼), and no childbirth (출산).

This movement is a radical and deliberate choice by South Korean women to reject traditional expectations and cultural norms around gender, family, and romantic relationships.

Romantic nostalgia—the sweet, rose-tinted warmth of remembering those early days of your relationship.

The late-night talks, the inside jokes, and that slightly overplayed song that somehow became your song.

These shared memories bring couples closer, adding a richness and history to your relationship that’s uniquely yours.

But here’s the twist: while nostalgia can be a source of connection, over-focusing on “the good old days” can sometimes hold couples back from building new experiences together.

Let’s take a look at how you can harness the power of shared memories to strengthen your relationship in the present, without getting stuck in a time loop of the past.

Compassion fatigue is a concept frequently discussed in the context of professional caregiving—where doctors, nurses, and therapists experience emotional exhaustion from constant caregiving demands.

However, a similar phenomenon can occur in long-term relationships and marriages.

When one partner has a lived experience of continuously provides emotional support or care, especially during prolonged periods of stress or hardship, they may feel emotionally drained or detached over time.

This withdrawal doesn’t necessarily mean they love their partner any less; it simply reflects the natural limits of their emotional bank account.

Understanding compassion fatigue in personal relationships helps illuminate why some partners might retreat emotionally, even when they care deeply.

This post will explore research supporting this concept, alternative explanations, and a specific factor that can make compassion fatigue even more pronounced: self-absorption.