Susan Shapiro - Lighting Up: How I Stopped Smoking, Drinking, and Everything Else I Loved in Life Except Sex A Memoir

TABLE OF CONTENTS

For my beloved father,
who passed on his dark hair, olive skin,
stubborn streak, and passion for
books and cigarettes

AUTHORS NOTE

Names and identifying characteristics of some people portrayed in this book have been changed to protect privacy.

Part One

Chapter 1

OCTOBER 1996

Aaron wants you to know that he misses you and cant live without you, Dr. Winters said, looking right in my eyes and smiling.

I turned to Aaron, my cute, curly-haired, six-foot-four ex-boyfriend, whom Id broken up with six weeks before. His face was expressionless. It felt awkward to be sitting so close to him on the couch without touching. For three years Id begged him to accompany me to my therapist, Dr. Goode. He refused, insisting that emotional insight would destroy his career as a TV comedy writer.

Hes very happy you could make it here today, Dr. Winters continued.

Who are you? I asked. Cyrano de Bergerac?

The scene was even more bizarre because, as Id told Aaron, our exhausting, turbulent, three-year bicoastal affair was seriously over. He agreed, but begged me to try one couples session with his new psychoanalyst, just for closure. I agreed, just for closure, but made it very clear that Id already fallen, head over spiky black high heels, for another man.

Aaron said you were dating someone new, Dr. Winters said.

I nodded, feeling claustrophobic. In the past I had only bared my soul to female shrinks. The male head doctors Id met were old Jewish guys in gray tweeds who smoked pipes; I could never talk about oral sex with anybody who resembled my grandfather. I admit I was intrigued when Aaron warned me, just before wed walked in, that Dr. Winters was young, unconventional, and wildly provocative. With an office two blocks away from my West Village one-bedroom, I imagined angry art therapy, or complicated, cryptic Jungian dream analysis. I wasnt expecting a short-haired, clean-cut, smiley WASP, let alone one who looked like the actor Pierce Brosnan. I pondered how Aaron, the least emotionally adventurous man Id ever met, had stumbled onto the James Bond of psychotherapy.

So, when are you getting rid of the other guy? asked Winters, still smiling.

The other guy, Joshua, is deeply in love with me, I said. What a pleasure to be with a man who has room for a woman in his life.

You cant be serious, Winters said.

Im always serious, said I.

No wonder Aaron called him young. He looked forty-five; they were probably the same age. Though he was seated, Winters appeared shorter, about six feet tall. He had a slighter build than Aaron, who was the nerdy Jewish bear type I usually went for. Aaron and I were dressed the same, in black jeans, sweaters, and leather jackets, rebels without a cause. Dr. Winters dressed like an adult: navy wool slacks, white shirt, classy red and blue tie, beige blazer. Was it cashmere? His outfit was calculated, colorless enough to project anything onto. He could have been a lawyer, book editor, international spy.

Why cant I be serious about Joshua?

Because youre so happy to be sitting here next to Aaron, Dr. Winters said. He was trying to brainwash me.

Im just here out of morbid fascination, I said, looking around his small, dusty office. There was only room enough for the couch, leather chair, French country desk, and Oriental rug. Too many miniature embroidered pillows for a middle-aged straight guy. One sensed Dr. Winters was married with kids, a model citizen. But I imagined a grisly past filled with illicit sex and rage and turmoil.

Just morbid fascination? He looked hurt. Aaron makes it sound like love.

Who did he think he was sweet-talkinga dumb thirteen-year-old girl? Look, buddy, I said, your patient cant even commit to living in sin.

What kind of inanity has he been feeding you? Dr. Winters switched to a warm conspiratorial tone, as if he were now my closest girlfriend, completely on my side. What did he tell you?

After three years, he refused to see me on weekdays. Hed only go out on weekends. So I said, Fine, lets go in. Then Spider-Man here decides we cant have dinneror sexduring the week. Which is why I found an easier guy whos not strangling his own dick with this boring fear of intimacy shit.

Winters looked at Aaron and said, She does have a point.

Aaron, who hadnt yet said a word, sat up tall and finally said: I like Batman better.

Because Batman is upper class, I told Winters. And lives in a cave with a cool black sports car.

No, Aaron said. Because Batman is the only one without superpowers.

The heterosexual men Id known in the Midwest were sports freaks. Aarons pseudointellectual crowd of East Coast TV comedy writers, whom hed first met working at the National Lampoon, got off on deconstructing the myths of superheroes.

The other heroes all have special powers? Winters seemed fascinated.

Aaron nodded, lowering his voice, as if he were sharing state secrets. Spider-Man was bitten by a radioactive spider. Green Lantern got his power ring from an alien. The Flash got his super speed from a lab accident.

Superman left Krypton and landed in a yellow sun system, said Winters, getting into the act.

But Batman was just an ordinary guy who studied hard, Aaron said. He gave himself power.

To avenge his parents murder by killing all bad guys in the world, I threw in.

Youre a true Freudian? Winters asked me.

Can you see why I fell for a shrink? I asked him.

I dont think she should be going out with a shrink, added Aaron.

Your ex-fiance, Lori, was a shrink, I argued. You went out with her for ten years. Underneath his black sweater, I could see hed worn the light-green Gap T-shirt Id given him last Hanukkah. He knew I thought he looked good in light green.

Lori wasnt a shrink when I met her, he argued back.

I know. You drove her to it.

She was the one who recommended Dr. Winters, Aaron let slip.

Lori knows him? This fifty minutes was getting stranger by the second.

Hes her thesis adviser in the psychology program at Columbia, Aaron said.

Loris your protge? I asked Winters, who shrugged. Youre bringing your latest ex-girlfriend to see the mentor of your former fiance? I asked Aaron, who shrugged too.

It was so idiotic, it had to be true. Aaron was a procrastinating hermit incapable of throwing away any book, article, or piece of clothing, but he never lied. I needed a cigarette. Did Dr. Winters let patients smoke during sessions? At first Dr. Goode had let me smoke but then shed banned it, afraid that I was inhaling my hurt instead of expressing it, getting further away.

What can we do to get you back? Dr. Winters asked, his smile mischievous and engaging.

Nothing. He seemed annoyingly pleased with himself, having too much fun juggling other peoples lives and hearts and psyches.

What if he stayed over weekends, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, and he proposed? Dr. Winters threw out.

Impossible. I shook my head. I was almost over the breakup. Trusting either of them was completely out of the question. Aaron made it clear that he doesnt want to live together, get married, or have children. Which is why were broken up.

Dr. Winters looked at him and said, She thinks you cant do it.

I can do it, said Aaron. Just not yet.