[post_page_title]My Therapist[/post_page_title]
Your hairstylist isn’t Jada on Red Table Talk. She’s not Dear Abby. She’s not even your bartender. And she’s definitely not your priest or therapist. So there’s no good reason to tell your stylist your dirty deeds.
If you’re planning on paying her an arm and a leg to do your hair for your side-salad date, don’t tell her it’s with the busboy in the van. She doesn’t need to know that no one else will get to appreciate her hard work while you destroy her masterpiece in the back of a Honda Odyssey.
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