What My Bones Know: A Memoir of Healing from Complex Trauma

by Stephanie Foo

“Desiderata.” You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.

It was fitting for a girl they named Stephanie, wasn’t it? They chose the name because it means “the one who wears the crown.”

Saturdays were for fun. Sundays were for penance.

“When the sky falls, use it as a blanket,”

Therapists instead prefer to take on YAVIS—Young, Attractive, Verbal, Intelligent, and Successful clients.[3]

The psychologist is white, of course (86 percent of psychologists in the United States are), which isn’t ideal if you are a person of color. But, fine, whatever:

insurance companies haven’t updated reimbursement rates for therapists in up to twenty years, despite rising rates for office rent and other administrative costs. If therapists were to rely on reimbursement rates from insurance alone, they’d wind up making about $50,000 a year on average,[5] which is fine, but like, not great if you’re an actual doctor.