Awhile ago someone I liked to read about said “I am afraid that I am incapable of having a relationship that is not a competition”. This was an interesting thought to consider. I think I have also felt this way. Not now, but in a different phase. Competition is inspiring when you think you stand a chance of winning. And later I have learned to be invested in the success of others, particularly loved ones.
In an effort to walk the talk, I decided to go for counselling sessions, the first of my life not including family counselling in my childhood that revolved around my sister and did not invite any meaningful participation on my part. I have only attended one appointment, and in the first session it is typical that the counsellor does most of the talking to cover all the informed consent and limits of confidentiality jazz. So I was not pressed much. And still it was activating, pointing at some boxes that might warrant opening. I know exactly why I have avoided this process my entire life. I am doing it now, because I want to be brave, but I expect it to be difficult, very difficult. Avoiding counselling, in spite of my personal and professional belief in it is something like cutting my own hair at home in the bathroom mirror, like I am not worthy of a $32 trim from a professional. It’s an old struggle and I am working to change it. Finally.
J and I have tickets to see the Violent Femmes tomorrow night and this makes me happy, pretending it’s 1996 again. They are older. I am older. Instead of going early so I can push my way up to the front, I am going early to make sure I find somewhere to sit.
