Permission to grow up
Just a few days ago, a number of realisations happened in quick succession. If I can hold on to them, I may have reached something of a breakthrough.
Much of it came from a very powerful conversation with my counsellor. I started seeing her in the summer, specifically to work on some old emotions that I still seem to be stuck in. What I discovered last week was how much I still identify with the wounded little girl that I was 30-something years ago. So much so, that everything I have achieved since then, didn’t seem real. For so long, I have felt that the confidence, competence and the modicum of wisdom I display to the world are something I am faking, and they’re not really mine. Because inside I feel like I’m eight years old and scared.