Lessons…

Today I went to see my therapist. I had contacted her after the Englishman and I broke up, but she had been on holiday in the Ukraine and I only heard back from her recently. I had seen her this time last year when I was having problems with my relationship and thought I needed an outside perspective to see my way clear. It was good to talk to someone who knew all of my intimate secrets and catch her up on what had been happenning in my life for the last 12 months. She is a very wise woman and I had pondered over a lot of what she had said to me last time around.

One of the things she had pointed out to me was that I was trying to be therapist and girlfriend both to him and that it was not going to work. When someone sees you as their therapist, it means you exist in a space where you have no needs of your own. Your sole purpose for being was to help the other person. If you were to show your own needs, the other person would be angry and resent you because you could no longer provide them with support. I had no idea how true this observation was until I was much further along in my relationship. This was particularly illustrated during our holiday to England when I was in hospital and the Englishman needed to step up and be there for me. He got through the day to day practicalities and took good care of Jacob for which I will be eternally grateful to him for, but emotionally and mentally he could not deal with the idea that I needed looking after. That was when I realised if I was ever to end up paralysed or incapacitated in some way which is a possibility with my medical condition and ended up in his care, he would make my life unbearable. I guess I knew then that this was not going to work long term.

Today my therapist asked me to list out the lessons I had learned from the relationship. I wrote them out and realised they were many and varied. And for that alone, I am thankful. I would not have learned those very important lessons if I had not met him. I therefore have no regrets. I thought I could heal the gaping wound in his soul, that I could teach him to love himself by loving him as completely as I possibly could. Now I know it was a futile task. And furthermore it is not my job. At least not anymore. That is why when he emailed me after reading my  post week last saying it made him cry but that he was glad I was in a good place; I felt sad, but I didn’t rush to his side to try to “fix” things for him. I have finally learned my lesson:)

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