Welcome Back to Therapy!

I've been meeting with my therapist just shy of a year now. I've really come to love and respect my time with her. I know from experience that finding a therapist who you enjoy and trust is pretty difficult and I feel very fortunate to have her in my life, even though it was my trauma that brought us together in the first place.

Dr. D had been away for the last month finishing up some trainings. In the meantime, I'd really looked forward to her return. There were updates with my family. More stuff that led me to further shut down toward them, while they simultaneously seemed to want more of my presence. UGH.

And then, there was Love.

I hadn't really talked a lot about Love to Dr. D before now. There was really no need. He was in the far reaches of my mind, nothing more than an occasional blip from my past. The men I'd talked to Dr. D about were my toxic ex and my vow to never cross paths with another man like him, and one other guy (another admitted mistake). As Dr. D and I got acquainted, I told her that I'd reconnected with Love and that he was truthfully the man in my life I'd come closest to marrying. My dear doc had a look of sheer shock on her face. "You?! Married?!" she said in her Nigerian accent. It's actually a bit funny to me that seems to be a common response when I speak of Love and my past intentions to say "I do" to him.

I have no one but myself to blame for that, however. I'll admit that I've been far louder in my cries for freedom than I have about my intentions to permanently boo up with any guy. I shared with Dr. D how I first met Love at a print shop as I printed out a paper for one of my first classes while at Clark. I looked at him and thought he was attractive, but with that baby face, I assumed he was a youngster, in his early 20s. As I stepped outside to leave, he chased me down and asked me to lunch. My first response was to ask his age. He surprised me be actually being 2 years older than me.

Quite honestly, at the time, I was a bit of an emotional mess. I'd just gone through some really heavy stuff in my personal life, on top of grieving my relationship with my son's father. I was coincidentally practically fighting men off with a stick. I was even considering cutting my hair, because I hated all of the attention it drew from men, but my best friend convinced me not to do so. I opted instead to wear my hair up in buns to avoid the leers of the male gaze. Anyway, I wasn't really trying to get with anyone in particular. Or at all.

Truthfully, had Love asked me for dinner or drinks, I would have rejected him instantly. But I loved that he asked me for lunch. Drinks or dinner hints at possible sexual opportunities. I took him asking me to lunch to mean that he really wanted to see me out of the bedroom, which was the only male attention I wanted or needed at the moment. He later told me that as he saw the title page of the paper that I was printing off, he was impressed, and felt that I must be pretty intelligent. And the rest, as they say, is history.

I also then shared with Dr. D what it was that made me finally break things off with Love. Essentially, I felt crowded, while simultaneously not feeling supported. All of the flowers, cards, and candy in the world means nothing if you feel like your partner isn't hearing, seeing, and accepting you as you are. I talked about how things fell apart (at least for me) during the wedding planning and some things that were important to me were being completely ignored, I also told her the things where Love said he'd felt things began to fall apart.

I went on to tell her how during our last couple meetings, he and I have cleared the air on a lot and how I'd love nothing more than to try "us" over again, as he and I have both brought more life experience, patience, and understanding into the fold. Strangely enough, while we'd planned a nice wedding before, if I got married these days, I'd opt for maybe 50-75 people, and keep it fun and simple. Nothing too fancy and not really Instagram worthy either. Doc chuckled hearing me discuss the possibility of a wedding/marriage of my own.

I admitted that while Love is clearly decompressing from his last relationship, I just have to be patient. I had a bit of "come to Jesus" moment yesterday while meditating, and I essentially recognized that I need to continue to focus on myself and that if I truly love Love, than I need to back up and allow him to process and grieve on his own accord, much as he did the same for me when we met. And if we get together, great. And if not? That's okay too.

Dr. D seemed rather pleased that there is actually a non-toxic man out there who I'm capable of loving and willing to spend the rest of my life (or at least a significant portion) with. I missed her terribly. As a mental health professional myself, I understand fully how sometimes you have to get those trainings in, lest your license/accreditation be rendered useless. But it felt nice to share this part of my life with her. I'll tackle the family stuff later. But for now? This lil corner in Dr. D's office is for me to talk about Love. Or at least my thoughts of being open to it.