21 April 2007

Painful separation

These last few days I could see people beyond their appearances. I could see beyong what my eyes tell me. I could see their loving hearts with my heart and my heart was big enough to love every single one of them in return, regardless of shape, age, colour or gender. It was awesome. At last I could see others. Of course I had always know intellectually that a person in front of me is a separate person having their own story and history, issues and beliefs. Yet I sometimes could not accept it and as a dear friend told me recently, "it sometimes seems that for you, people are either with you or against you".... he was so right! It was such an eye-opener! My explanation would be that people were with me as long as they fitted the image of myself I'd projected onto them. They would turn to be "against" me as soon as they would be themselves, therefore not mirroring me any longer...

Interestingly I haven't seen my boss and colleagues or my analyst with my heart yet. I'm so used to see them with the eyes it might take time even to think about changing the habit, and remembering there are men and women in their own right, with their own personal stories...

"One cannot relate to something one hasn't separated from".

Today I just knew that I haven't separated from my analyst. Not that we have a relationship other than an analyst/client relationship but all I see in him is what I project onto him. It is as if he were not a man in his own right, as if he didn't have a life outside the two hours a week that we meet in his office. He's always available by email or phone, very gentle, patient, compassionate, competent... and oh yes I forgot, attractive, too.

Of course my intellect tells me he is his own individual, separate from myself, but the revelation that I could not see him beyond the visible was painful. I saw how I hand him my power as soon as I enter his office door. I saw how much I "like" playing the game I have played all my life: being the nice and to be rescued daddy's daughter, not quite good enough, not quite working properly, in a word addicted to perfection. I saw how I lock myself away high in Rapunzel's tower letting life pass by. "All" I need is to hold onto my power, my sense of self-worth and self-confidence. Then I believe I will see the man sitting opposite me in his armchair, I will hear him mention exemples from his life without feeling my heart sink, I will accept that he's got a life outside these two hours a week we meet in his office. And I will be genuinely happy to come and meet a man I trust and who can help me.

I guess that's what's called transference. I always knew the word and its meaning intellectually. This week though I believe it reached my heart and I feel its meaning emotionally. The separation might be painful but is necessary and I feel ready for it. I had wanted to "leave my father's house" by sheer will. I believe now it might start to happen.

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