Therapeutic Cliffhanger

Today I had therapy, and we ended up with an exciting basis for NEXT week’s session, where we’re going to dive deeper into how 40+ years of coddling and condescension from everyone in my family could perhaps make me constantly doubt my capabilities as an adult, and affect my self-worth in all areas of life.

Awesome. Great. I’m SO glad I did this. 🙄

(I am, but…Christ. Originally I just went to therapy for some Breakup Krazy Glue, but ended up shattered six ways to Sunday. At least when my therapist starts writing groundbreaking articles about family insanity, maybe I’ll get royalties.)

(By the way, I am STILL very much on Team “Whatever Your Family Did, You’re an Adult, Handle Your Shit.*” But it turns out I just need some strategies to make that work as more than just bluster.)

(*Unless your family was LEGIT awful and not just underminey, in which case, obviously, you have the right.)

(Part of my damage is minimizing my damage because so many people have much worse damage.)

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Complacently Ever After

Part of why I’m OK being single (for the most part*), and part of why I’m in therapy, is the relationships I see in my family. I realize I can only go by what I see, but what I see is people who would rather be kind of…dulled and resentful in a relationship than be alone. Especially my mother and sister, I really don’t hear them LIKING their spouses. I’m often their sounding board for all their relationship “squabbles” that to me sound like much larger issues, and that was BEFORE I started therapy.

(* Not even gonna front — I’d really enjoy some sex, and I have a big, heavy mirror I can’t lift, so I could use some assistance there. But otherwise, I’m aight.)

Anyway. All this to say that I’m grateful for the men I know, and for the relationships I’ve had. Because I’ve never dated anyone shitty for more than a couple months, and I was quickly able to see, “Oh, you’re shitty. We’re done here.” I’ve never had to prattle on for an hour straight about all the things my boyfriend doesn’t do to my liking, or found myself unable to address issues WITH a boyfriend and have him at least try to understand. And I think that’s partly because I KNOW there ARE decent dudes out there. I’ve dated them, I’ve worked with them, my friends have married them. And I’m (mostly*) fine being alone until one arrives in my life.

It’s been kind of a shit year for men, and rightly so, but hey, here’s to the good ones, eh?🍸

Renewing my subscription to Daddy Issues

I’ve been meaning to get into the Big Family Dynamics discussion with my therapist, but we keep getting sidetracked by current issues. Today I mentioned that to her and said, “But somehow I think tonight’s hour-long discussion of my insecurities and relationship issues probably gave you some useful information about my family history.”

And her response was, “Oh, yeah. Any time we talk about your relationships, we’re talkin’ about your dad.”

…Goddammit. 🙄

Achievement unlocked…with bonus Ugly Cry.

Apparently it takes me 5 years and 3 apartments to finally ovary up and get rid of my Ex Box.

I’d gotten rid of other things incrementally, but this was the greeting cards, and I am a sucker for a greeting card.

I’m still crying, but it’s done.

I am woman. Roar, etc.

*sniff* Shut up.

The rare and elusive Stage 6 clinger.

In 2013 after my breakup, I had a Year of Poor Life Choices. I dated before I was ready, tried to get over my ex, tried to get over the OTHER guy I’d developed a crush on. It turned into a few “relationships” that crashed and burned fairly spectacularly.

One was a friend of my sister’s, and I’m not proud of this, but I ghosted on him. We went on three dates before I realized we had NOTHING in common*, and I TRIED to be an adult and tell him I wasn’t ready to be dating. He asked if we could be friends and I said “sure,” because that’s what you SAY, but you both know you’re not going to be friends — or at least *I* knew.

Eventually I blocked his number and deleted him from Facebook because I am a coward. That was probably the summer of 2014.

THIS MORNING I got a Facebook message from him: “Hey Smug, tour name popped up on my phone so figured I’d say hi….Helloooo. How’s life treating you?”

It’s probably true he saw my name somehow since we still have mutual Facebook friends. But, like… Is there a Clinger beyond Stage 5?**

* When I say “nothing in common,” I mean I went to his Facebook page and he’s now an “all lives matter,” flag-fapping Trumpublican, and I am…NOT those things.

** I feel bad, he’s a “nice guy,” but…no. You are a reminder of a terrible time in my life. That’s not your fault, but it does mean you can’t exist in my world.