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Posted by / 03-Nov-2017 18:32

And since 2012, when I gave up a stable, tenured teaching career for the wildly inconsistent life of a freelance writer, I’ve had great difficulty trusting my own instincts and capabilities. ” She gently explained she could tell the day I walked into her office for the first time, after I flashed a bright smile and casually asked where she was from.

I told Lori that I wish I was better at dealing with life’s daily struggles instead of constantly wondering if I’ll be able to wade through the thick. Now, a week after dropping that bomb, Lori asks, “So, why haven’t we talked about it?

“Still, with you,” she continues, “until I raised the question, I didn’t know for sure that you would go with it; for all I knew you’d run out of here and never come back to risk being so uncomfortable again.” She’s building my confidence more, and I’m learning that I play a much bigger role in how my life is conducted than I often realize. “No,” I tell her, “You don’t mean that.” “What if I do? “Mike, I don’t feel that you would do something that you think is truly not in our best interest, which is exactly why I just gave the choice.” Her offer was a lesson in empowerment, helping me prove that I have an innate ability to make the right choices, even if I’d so desperately prefer to make the wrong one. I’m awfully proud of myself, and it’s OK to be in this instance.

My treatment wouldn’t be happening if I weren’t enabling it. I’m gaining trust in myself, and confidence to boot.

Then she says, “And don’t think it’s not nice for me to hear that a guy like you thinks I’m beautiful.” Crippled by the eroticism of the moment, and combined with the prevailing notion that no woman this stunning could ever be romantically interested in me, I flounder through words that resemble, “Wait…what? But, as the dualities of life dictate, I’m successfully doing “the work” with a daring therapist, while at the same time not entirely convinced she isn’t in need of an ethical scrubbing.

” “If we were somehow at a bar together, and you came over and talked to me,” she says, then flips her palms up innocently, “who knows? * * * I don’t have another session with Lori for nearly three months, because she took a personal leave from her place of employment.

” I cackle, beginning to feel as though I’ve moseyed onto the set of a porno. I’m a little unsure about this whole technique, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense.

So I go home, incredibly turned on and completely unashamed.

Lori points out that it must be “exhausting trying to be so perfect all the time.” I am much more comfortable than I was the week prior, and can feel myself being more candid.

I’m great at seeing flaws in others and propping myself up above them by smugly observing my character strengths.

I’ve never liked that about myself, but the harder concept to grasp is the fact that I can be so egotistical while also stricken with such vast quantities of insecurity.

We all throw verbal darts around as though we’re engaged in a massive, drunken tournament at a bar, but the most poisonous ones seem to hit me the most often, admittedly somewhat a consequence of my own sensitivity.

I’ve been told it was historically all part of an effort to toughen me up, but instead I was filled with towering doubts about my own worth.

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“I thought I’d be able to move past it,” I say, adding, “We aired it out, and it’s fine.” As definitive as I’m trying to sound, Lori is just as defiant.

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