Months later, at a tense dinner arranged at a neutral restaurant in Seattle, Robert Mitchell finally spoke directly about his discomfort.
“I do not understand why everything requires analysis,” he said, folding his napkin with unnecessary precision. “Families survive arguments without turning them into case studies.”
“We survived,” I replied, meeting his eyes steadily. “Now I want us to function, and functioning requires honesty.”
To my surprise, Diane Mitchell began attending counseling sessions herself, initially describing them as stress management before gradually acknowledging deeper work. Progress came slowly, unevenly, and without applause, yet something shifted once the trust removed financial leverage from the equation. My parents could not threaten my housing, and without that power imbalance, conversations became less coercive and more uncomfortable in an honest way.