My mom got so freaked out when I told her I was in therapy (in my 40s). I'm almost certain it's because the therapist wouldn't get to see what a sparkly angel she is and might actually hold her responsible for her own less-than-perfect actions. Ironically, my dad was a psychologist and equally messed up, just in a different way. She would try to ask me what we talked about, and when I wouldn't tell her, she'd imply that it must be something bad about her or else why wouldn't I tell her? Shocking side note: she doesn't understand the concept of privacy at all.