I went to group therapy for a semester or so in college. Maybe it started late sophomore year but definitely junior year. I don’t remember exactly why I went to the campus counseling center. Honestly I can’t remember what I was feeling that I made the appointment. I was in a relationship that ultimately wasn’t particularly healthy and ended weirdly, but I don’t think I had any sense of that at the time. I was very grounded in my friend group, which was also the group from the Newman House, and those are still my most meaningful friendships from college. I wish I could remember, but I can’t.

Let’s assume it was about the relationship, because the doctor recommended I join the men’s group therapy. We met weekly or every other week, and most of what we talked about was relationships. Maybe it was just me. 

(Sidenote: privacy is tricky. I want to balance the meaningful parts of “my story“ with respecting that other people are more than merely supporting characters in my memory. They certainly were more than supporting characters in my life. That’s doubly true for the members of my therapy groups privacy, and triply true for past romantic relationships. I’m going to struggle to tell this well.)

There were two other guys in the group who I could recognize if I met them today. There were several other really good, really introspective men in the group who I would like to meet again, but they have faded. Spike (not his name) was memorable because he wound up in the group for his anger problem. While being broken up with by an ex, he got angry and punched the engineering building. When I met him his hand was literally full of pins from the recent reconstructive surgery. I suspect he has punched more hardened concrete structures in the past thirty years. I’m not really one to judge, because I’m not sure I made any breakthroughs either.

Guy number two I remember because he was the ex-boyfriend of the woman I was dating. We hadn’t met socially, but we both knew who was who. We met in group for months and never talked about it to each other or the group. At one point during a rocky patch in my relationship, the rocky patch was him. We never talked about it. Then one day we did. I think I announced that we had broken up, and then mentioned that now we were both exes. Or something similarly passive aggressive masked in “humor”. This is all really sketchy recollection. When I dropped that bomb, the group was pissed! It got tense. The doc running the group tore me a new one right there, and pointed out how we had effectively betrayed the group trust by not revealing it. He was right of course. The other guys were mad as well.

That wasn’t the actual end of group, but it’s the last thing I remember. I don’t remember how and when the group ended, or if I just stopped going. It may have just petered out with a semester break. I remember “enjoying“ the group and I must’ve learned some lessons from it. Having said that, I’m not sure the women who I dated between the ages of 20 and 25 would agree that I got anything out of it.