December 17, 2002


I had the greatest therapy session yesterday. It was the first time that I cried in front of my therapist. I've been very happy with my life for the last several years, and I've been dealing with adversity in a very healthy way, but it's because I'm so full of pain from my past, that there hasn't been any room to add any more hurt to it. A couple of months ago I decided to finally chip away and the remaining debris, and make more room for more joy. I think I just made that sound much hokier than it is. So we've been looking at my childhood, and I'm allowing myself to feel sorry for the little girl inside. The little girl who was told that if she cleaned her room she could go play, only to be told after she had done more than asked, that her mother had changed her mind. Just because. The little girl who couldn't participate in any after school programs because she had to get home and mind her younger siblings. The little girl who told countless guidance counselors about the physical abuse her mother inflicted, only to be told that children deserve to be punished when they've been bad. My mother dished many years of physical and mental abuse that I need to address rather than suppress because it has shaped how I handle intimate relationships. I don't want to be that woman who gets comfortable enough with her significant other, only to have a breakdown because she thinks he can fix it. These are certainly MY issues, and and I don't want to bring any excess baggage into the union. I'm getting a little ahead of myself considering I haven't had more than a second date in six months, but it's best to be prepared.

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