Last night’s session was based on my feelings about my ex-husband’s wedding and my boyfriend. I didn’t think we’d go there but we stayed there for another week, and in hindsight I think it was the right place to go.
I told her quite honestly I want a wedding. I’m jealous they got a wedding and I don’t know if I will ever have another one, or a man that will want to marry me. I’m still not convinced I should marry my boyfriend, but I know I want a wedding and I have it all planned. We basically narrowed this down to wanting to feel wanted.
The theme of my life, apparently.
Marriage to me is security and completeness and crossing a finish line. Even though I know it’s not, it’s just what I have been taught. I have a mother that can’t stay single, 5 big white weddings in her lifetime, who taught me that my value was in if I was loved by a man. Strangely this is a belief even though she didn’t provide that by marrying a good father. When I decided to divorce, she took my ex-husband’s side, along with my sister. My value was in if I was dating and how fast I was committed. My value now that I live with my boyfriend is in when we get married. Her rationale is I need to marry to have a man take care of me financially even though, I take care of me financially now.
Another way in which the people in my life do not know me, trust me to be me or let me be ME.
My therapist reminded me that security does not exist. People change. She said she doesn’t believe that all people should get divorced and she’s not against marriage, but to live an entire life in one relationship and never expect to change or grow in different directions is ridiculous and unrealistic. Just because I get married or have a good wedding does not mean anything. It doesn’t mean I will always have a place to live or money or security. It means I’m married.
Mostly I want to feel wanted. It’s a basic human need but with my past full of abandonment and abuse, it’s natural for that need to be present and show up front and center a lot more frequently.
We delved into our house. It’s not mine, it doesn’t feel like mine. The decorations, the paint, the mess, the stuff in it. It’s his and my things fit around where they can. When I made the suggestion last week that I would buy a shed and convert it into a studio, I was told he’d just help me clean up a bit. Which we did, but it’s still his stuff we cleaned. He doesn’t get it.
I want to feel like I exist and I’m loved for me.
I talked to her about my first apartment that I got as a newly divorced woman. It’s right next door and I stare at it when I am outside. I refuse to go back in it because I fear I may move right back in. Not because I don’t love my dude, but it was my first taste of me. I decorated it, I fixed myself food I wanted in it, I had fabulous sex in it, I paid for it and I lived in it. All me. I found it, made it mine and it was home. My first home. She told me to use that as my measuring stick. If something going forward doesn’t feel like that level of happiness, get rid of it.
At the time I was in that apartment I didn’t always appreciate it because i was grieving my divorce and dating men to fulfill the hole, but on a lot of levels, it was all mine for me that I created.
I’m supposed to tell him how I feel about our house and I will. I came home and asked if we could go out so we did, we got tacos, I bought us some ice cream cones for our walk home, we read next to each other then watched a documentary on Vivian Maier. It was wonderful to be together last night and I know that he just doesn’t understand, but the difference is, I found a man that wants to try.
I’m hoping to dig more into my past next visit. I feel like I’m behind a bunch of walls to get to the other side, she mentioned this as well. But at least the point I’m at now, I can see the walls and know they exist and are not permanent.