Building Self-Confidence 107

People fell in love with me. All sorts of people. But for some reason, it always turned me off, not on. I guess I knew, even then, that it was a deception. There was no me. That person they loved was a creation I made to appease and attract them. It worked, every time. It worked too well.

"So what does Eliza want?"

Sigh. "To help people?" I shrugged lightly.

"And?"

I turned my head to the window. "Family." She nodded. I pressed my eyes closed. "As you said before -- to belong. I want to belong."

"Something your family doesn't really give you."

I folded my scarf. I re-folded my scarf. I breathed in. I breathed out. "No." No, they didn't.

Therapy was not so heavy this week; partially because last week was quite intense. Also because my therapist was recovering from being ill. But mostly because I refused to let myself admit the truth of what I was thinking and feeling. She didn't push me.

So what does Eliza want?

I stumbled into the house in tears, admitting to myself what I didn't want to admit in front of my therapist.

I just want someone to love me. Me, when I decide who that person is.

I want to love myself. But the more I ask who I am, the more I am repulsed. I feel such intense self-hatred. There is a deep conflict inside and I don't know how to take a side. Who is speaking right now? The me desperate to control everything for my own good or the me wanting the freedom to explore her desires? Which is me? How can they both be me?

My eyes burn; I'm allergic to my tears. At least the self-rejection has a sense of humour.

My walls are, oh, tumbling down.