What if people prefer the wizard to the woman?

I never got to talk to Carrie, because Peter (perhaps feeling a bit panicked by my intention to talk to Carrie) did first. Her only response was: "Peter told me. Not sure what there is to talk about."

I knew when I had to break my heart and sweep out the pieces that it was going to hurt, but I didn't expect this. Their lack of response falls right into that tender ravine carved out by all of the other unresponsive people in my life (my mother being president of this territory of course). The message I get is that I'm not worth it. Whatever I did before doesn't matter. Because of this one feeling and possibly my decision to withdraw to protect them, I am no longer valued.

I, of all people, knew they didn't exactly have much emotional intelligence. I spent my evenings there before the separation practically providing therapy... or at the very least, insight into how the mind/body and world works. I gave them confidence in themselves as people and as parents. I provided a diversion from the stresses of their family life. I gave them new culinary experiences. I taught them new craft skills. I entertained their son, providing them with rest.

There was nothing I did for them that wasn't (1) requested and (2) kind. And they appreciated it, until they caught a glimpse behind this gorgeous curtain of mine.

Peter's first response (He avoided the topic in the car) was an email late last night:

Hi,

I know this might be a little awkward but would it be a bit to cheeky to ask for a copy of the logo that you did the other day ? i really need some jars ready to sell by the end of next week and i have no idea how to produce something as good.

Peter.

Argh. Projection. Avoidance. Inconsiderate bastard. Why am I always the one who knows better?

The irony is that I was planning on sending the logo tomorrow regardless, because THAT IS WHO I AM. Because I'm not the one feeling awkward about my feelings. What I do feel awkward about is the fact that I've done everything I can to be kind even under extreme pressure, and even that isn't enough cushion to fall on.

My response:

Hi Peter -

I don't feel awkward about what I said.

I do feel disappointed and confused about what I've done to hurt either of you, when I have nothing but respect and love for your entire family. The lack of response (especially from Carrie) hurts. I will cope, as always, but the loss of your friendships is hard to deal with right now.

I felt the right thing to do was to withdraw, because getting attached to Luke, being attracted to you, and loving Carrie as a friend, when I am feeling so vulnerable already? There is no way forward that doesn't end in resentment. I don't want to resent either of you. I don't want you to resent me. I am truly sorry if I've hurt you or Carrie by acknowledging my feelings.

I was planning on sending the PSD this week. I'll do it tomorrow.

Eliza

I can't really imagine what is going through their heads to paralyse them. Perhaps it seems shocking that this woman they let into their homes and heart might have a heart of her own?

I know I have played this script so many times in my life (expressing difficult emotion, getting an abusive or no response) and I can't seem to find the best way through it.

It simply hurts.

My Nurturing Parent is working overtime on me. Yesterday was the first moment I missed my last psychotherapist. I wanted her there, to hold my hand, and tell me that what I did was brave. That I am brave and worthy of more than incomplete, conditional love. I am more than a Wizard. I'm a woman, as frail and vulnerable as the rest of you. And it's wrong of people to put me on a pedestal.

I know that I can defend against that. I can refuse to play that role, refuse to get on that pedestal. I can reinforce or redraw my boundaries. Point them out. Ask to be treated differently. Walk away.

In between my two psychotherapists, I wrote a new descriptive phrase on my board:

WORTH LISTENING TO

It was in response to the damaging comment from the first psychotherapist about her being the only one capable of handling me. For weeks I had felt wrong and didn't know why. After leaving, I realised it was because I didn't feel heard -- a combination of my fear of expression and her lack of appropriate response. I did not have to reflect on much of my life to realise I was plagued by this damaging belief that I did not matter.

So with the next psychotherapist, I aimed to value myself. I am worth listening to. I echoed this inside me, as I formed new habits of listening to myself. Then, when that habit was in effect, I reached through my fear and showed my authentic self to others. The results were immediate.

I AM worth listening to.

Gosh but I wish that was enough. Having defended my authenticity in the kindest way possible, even at considerable personal cost (losing my husband, my family and friends), I now realise being listened to isn't enough.

WORTH RESPONDING TO

I should have known better. I spent the last five years chasing after my husband to respond to rather than avoid me and my emotions. I knew that my attachment disorder was because of my mother's lack of response when I was very young. Clearly responding is more than important.

It is what makes us human.

It is the backbone of connection. It is the essence of life. When I said to my husband "I need more" and when I said to Peter "I cannot be a part of your lives anymore" ... it was because they were not responding to me but their vision of me as the Ideal Wife or Ideal Friend.

There was a disconnect between my needs and their needs, and the only way forward was to express my needs and wait to see if they have room for my Actual Shape.

I know that it wasn't too long ago that I was just as paralysed with insecurity as them: when faced with a strong or startling emotion, I too panicked and withdrew. The trauma of it led me back into psychotherapy and of course here we are today.

I am not responsible for their lack of response. I cannot control them. All I can do is accept the reality of today. My emotions, my responsibility.

So what is the emotional status of Eliza?

I won't mince words. My heart is snapped in bits and my hands are sore from punching out these walls. These emotions are so complex that without active management they become overwhelming. I can't name and accept these emotions fast enough sometimes. The situation triggered my PTSD (the first time in over a month!!) and now I'm cleaning up obsessive thoughts and interjected memories and emotions.

Thankfully, Drew is being incredibly supportive. Going to his mum with the pain from our separation made him realise everything I'd been telling him (for years!!!) about needing people to sit with, listen to, make sense of, and respond to our emotions. Experiences change us. Though I hate causing him pain and though I wish he had a responsive mother, I'm grateful he not only sees how important it is but is able to be there for me in that way now.

I needed that, and maybe on these new foundations a mature adult love will blossom.

I know for sure a mature adult is taking root.