On our second date, Andrea and I spent a lovely afternoon at Huntington Gardens in Pasadena. Although we had met up and talked on the phone previous to this date, we were still in the “getting to know you” stage.
At the time, her natural curiosity came out and she asked me a number of focused questions. I knew she was a psychologist, so this did not bother me and in fact, I welcomed the challenge to answer all of her questions as truthfully and thoughtfully as I could. All subjects were in play (except for one in particular, although only I knew what I would refuse to discuss) and the back-and-forth conversation seemed to be going well until she hit upon that subject.
“So, tell me more about your mom.”
“I really don’t want to talk about her. We can talk about anything else, but just not her.”
[Dear Reader, at this point to get the full weight of this sentence I had just spoken into existence, imagine the sight and sound of a red flag being unfurled.]
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset. Does it always make you uncomfortable to talk about her?”
“Pretty much. Remembering her does not bring up the most pleasant highlights of my childhood.” I remember saying this with some sarcastic sauce poured over the words, “pleasant highlights.”
“Well, we are formed by our early relationships”.
“Look, I’m an adult and whatever has happened in the past is in the past. I don’t think the past has anything to do with the present. I can’t change what’s already happened so I’ve moved on and I just keep looking forward.” I said this very triumphantly and with a certain finality. I am now snapping the aforementioned red flag in very tight, rapid figure-eights right in her face.
She literally laughed out loud at me.
“I can’t believe you just said that to someone who is a therapist.”
Over the next several months, we continued seeing each other and, despite this less-than-promising start, our trust and affection grew, and I began to reveal hurtful childhood experiences I had previously kept secret. Unfortunately, the red flag I had brought out that first day repeatedly made appearances. My seemingly dismissive and detached reactions to emotionally charged and difficult situations did not go undetected by her highly attuned eye for past trauma. She very gently, with empathy and compassion, suggested that I see a therapist who offers EMDR to work on integrating my past traumatic experiences. She searched and was excited to recommend someone with good training fairly close to my home. The work with the therapist was extremely emotionally difficult at first, but eventually, I found it very enlightening and helpful. Then with deft, well-practiced dismissive skill, I casually cut back the help to biweekly sessions, thinking “I’m good, I got this”. This worked, until it no longer did.
Eventually, my girlfriend grabbed the red flag out of my hands and waved it back at me, declaring that if I did not go back to a weekly session schedule (it had been making a definite difference in my emotional availability), we were done. What had been originally a gentle suggestion had become an ultimatum for the future of our relationship. The opportunity toward true intimacy, or for a healthy way of relating that I had never experienced before, was slipping through my fingers. So, I relented and humbly returned to the weekly schedule of EMDR. To reinforce the effective work being done, I accepted her invitation to enter attachment-based couples therapy. All this therapy brought me to a better understanding of myself and about relationships than I ever could have imagined. I soon realized that this was an arduously long journey, not the convenient answer to all my issues.
It is a long arduous journey for sure, but worth it! I'm amazed by how well EMDR can work. And thank you for normalizing therapy in this way! As a former there and someone who will likely always be in therapy, this is so important to talk about!
Steve, ANDREA had mentioned that you had started writing in substack. I just now read this, your third episode and was so taken by it I had to go back and read your opening essay and your Ghost #1. There are so many things it could become underdone, and this Ghost #2, but I will limit myself to only two. Your very radical honesty and your marathon search for self understanding are so admirable. Equally admirable is the bold and loving way that Andrea called you to be the very best open and self understanding person you can be.