I have decided to dedicate a post on Thursday to therapy, and offer you the many tips I have learned on the couch. They will be a good reminder for me, as well, of something small I can concentrate on. Many of them are published in my book, “The Pocket Therapist: An Emotional Survival Kit.”
I don’t think I’ve ever left a bakery infuriated that they didn’t have any hamburger meat, or left a butcher shop disappointed they didn’t stock any cucumbers.
But I have done exactly that in so many of my relationships.
I invested my heart over and over again into a friendship that couldn’t nurture me in the way I needed. I was determined to find unconditional love with a relative who was more interested in his golf game than in my report cards. Continually, I’d walk to the well, hoping that I might draw a few spoonfuls of water, only to retract a parched bucket.
“Love me, please, just love me,” I’d beg the person who was incapable of loving me back.
Now I’m getting smarter. For a confidence boost I don’t write to a gal who delights in belittling me. To feel safe and loved, I don’t call up my former boss who hated me or the ex-boyfriend who fancied my friends more than me.
I try my best to go to the bakery for bread.

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