Therapy lightbulbs

 Paul and I have been doing counseling since the end of September. We were just getting started when his dad died, which put a huge slowdown on any progress. Obviously it wasn't time for me to address problems I had with him, and he struggled just to do the basics as he dealt with his grief and the ensuing crap show that followed with the estate. At this point (beginning of March), we are all kind of paused in the anger stage of grief, and I cannot wait until the trust is closed so that Paul can begin to heal. But in the meantime, I've had a few individual sessions with our counselor, and then unfortunately we had to change counselors because the first one was called on a mission pre-COVID, and was finally authorized to leave with her husband, but only given a 2 week notice. Anyway - we went forward with a different counselor. 

I've had a few moments of clarity in this process. The first came when we realized that for some reason I do not feel that I am an equal to Paul. I am not his partner in this marriage. I am merely the employee. I also feel like I have this wall up that does not allow me to feel loved by Paul. I have never felt he truly loved me. I know that's crazy. Even my mom is always telling me how much he loves me. But for some reason it's like I have never allowed his love to actually penetrate my heart. While talking with Rita (counselor #1), she had me go back to my childhood. We discovered that part of the problem actually somewhat began as a child. When I first realized how much I loved boys, how I'd rather be with them instead of girls, I was probably 9 or 10 years old. Being the good Mormon girl I was, I realized that this was not the time for me to feel that way. I began to put up a barrier against those feelings - telling myself they were forbidden, as I was not allowed to date until 16 or get physical at all (in my opinion) until 18. Well that served me well. I rebuffed many guys that were interested in me, including that super cute King boy who asked to Homecoming when he found out it was on my birthday. I of course thought he was joking, and also, it was only my 15th birthday, so I wasn't allowed to go. However, when I turned 16, I didn't take down that wall. I'd been pushing boys away for so long that I literally did not see myself as desirable. When boys would flirt with me, or ask me out, I figured it was either teasing like I did with my brothers, or it was just as friends. I never even kissed or held any guys' hands until college. Even in college I remember so many guys being interested in me, but I honestly didn't think they actually were interested in anything more than being friends. So I pushed many guys away. So, Rita instructed me to go sit with my 9 year old self and thank her for keeping me safe. Then to go ask my 16 year old self if I could take down the wall, then to comfort my older self and tell myself it was ok to feel loved...... None of this felt right. I could go back and see the things I'd done or felt, but I could not go back and interact with my former self...

Soon after that we changed therapists and I began working with Monica. After a brief explanation of what we'd gone through, Monica latched on to my home life. She talked a lot about how I was raised and was interested in how I am very adamant that our home was a loving, stable home life. How I always knew, and still do know, that my parents and my brothers love me. I even know that my sisters in law love and accept me way more than Paul does. It's so weird. So we talked about when was the first time I had my heart broken by someone else. I talked about how, even as a young woman (I can remember when I was 14 specifically), I would hurt someone and push them away before they had a chance to hurt and push me away. I tend to love deeply and it takes a lot for me to betray someone or even let them go. 

We then talked about my first heartbreak - Allen. How we spent 6 weeks completely inseparable - including over Christmas break - and how he then just quit talking to me. I cried more than I had cried ever before. And after that, although I had 2 other "boyfriends", I didn't let them get very close to me. It wasn't until Mark that I let someone in - and he swept me off my feet. I didn't have a chance to throw up a wall with him. I was head over heels for him from day 1. He brought me treats to work. He called me constantly. My parents loved him. His parents loved me and I loved them. I honestly didn't think I could live without him. Until he broke up with me. But he didn't really break up with me - merely suggested that I felt more for him than he felt for me. In his mind, our relationship slowed down, but it didn't really end. He still came to my house all the time, I still visited his mom and dad at their house, and even stopped to chat with them at work. We still spent tons of time together. But my wall was up again. I had been betrayed by my own heart again.

I spent that Christmas break down in Logan visiting with Chris (my best friend), Allen (ex boyfriend) and Urie (their roommate) as well as my old roommates and friends. Surprise surprise, I hooked up with Urie. And then Allen tried to get back with me. Chris just enjoyed having me around as his own personal cuddle slut and relationship expert. But I went home, technically being tied to Urie.

Enter Paul. At this point, I was broken over Mark, technically dating Urie, and yet I think I was pretty much past feeling. And Paul fell head over heels for me. I remember feeling thrilled that Paul loved me. Knowing he would never leave - that he was in it for the long haul. And yet not feeling very deeply. But I still wanted him. I wanted to feel that love. I wanted so badly to be loved and cherished. And Paul was so obviously deeply in love with me. He was everything I wanted. A returned missionary. A priesthood holder. Working towards a stable career. And he was so honest with me. He confessed his deepest, darkest sins and secrets to me. Plus he constantly told me I was beautiful. And he wanted to be together forever. I KNEW we were supposed to be together. But still, I never did fully open my heart. There were butterflies, sure, but I still can look back and say I know he felt more for me than I was able to feel for him.

It hurt Mark so much when he found out that I was engaged, and especially when he found out to whom! Paul and Mark had gone to Jr. High and High school together. Paul was not a great guy back then - he'd been into smoking and swearing and generally ran around with "the wrong crowd" while Mark was into musicals and choir and was even seminary council president. The day after I announced I was engaged, Mark officially came out as gay. That hurt more than I was willing to admit. Part of me was relieved that I wasn't the actual reason we weren't so compatible, but part of me ached that he couldn't have been up front with me from the beginning. 

I have to admit, typing this out isn't as therapeutic as it was talking about it. I can't remember why these experiences were so important and how they played into my never taking down my wall around my heart. Maybe I've been able to finally release the pain from this.