The Loss of Emotional Safety
I was in a bad place with unfriendly people. After being snubbed by a group who excluded me from their conversation I had to lean in to better people in that group. I was told that group was a "Safe space".
That is a liberal fantasy that was never my reality. Over the next twenty-four hours a lot of things in my life would die rather horrible deaths. Others in the group made fun of my bad time. Some who hide behind "Be kind" belittled the issues I had.
Just because none of the problems were with that person doesn't mean others were not total jerks to me. While this might make some of the coaches laugh in my face- I had PTSD. That probably sprung from the abruptness of the divorce.
My father was getting ready for work Monday morning, called the house around six and made the announcement. When I was told he wanted to talk on the phone I expected him to say he was working late which was common.
What he did was uncommon. My therapist acted like divorce was a normal occurrence. He was married so not "Everybody" is doing it. Everyone deals with divorce the way everyone deals with cancer- individually.
At this point I lost emotional safety with a therapist. Any suggestion I had was shot down. He would tell me why any idea I had would fail. If I mentioned that I was going to study more and prepare a presentation he would have made that sound futile.
Therapists were a dead end. Before I mention how not wanting to date while unemployed led him to think I would start dating men- it costs money I did not have to take people I did not know out to dinner- I could not speak freely.
When I pulled out of therapy, when I kicked the habit, I began writing. I could write unencumbered and would not have some man yell at me for making a regular suggestion. He acted like I had no future yet he didn't want me to commit suicide.
Maybe that was Purgatory. After the divorce you cannot threaten me with Hell. That was a fate worse than death. Not unlike the way certain people treated me on a Tuesday in February.
On the day I die, if I am in Assisted Living, I won't feel as isolated as I did around a so called tribe who were only trying to meet podcast hosts so they could talk on a show. It's how you treat the ones who can do nothing for you that shows true character.
There is a good chance I shall experience indifference within this group again. I won't have emotional safety. How can I speak freely when some repeat my words in a mocking tone? I'm glad solopreneurs dehumanized me. Let them act superior. Don't screw with someone who has a long memory.
Most of my recollections are good. When someone is reminiscent to burning your hand on the stove- you never want that to happen again. Find people with whom you can talk about any topic. I have amazed some when they talk about bullies from elementary school whom we both knew.
It has to be said. Don't dwell. The man in question was amazed I didn't say "Get over it" or some magic wand phrase people use to change the subject. That is all therapy was. Never again would I pay someone to listen to my problems and give no actionable advice. There was a breach of trust.
Be the one who listens and takes others seriously. Adults never believed me when I mentioned groups of guys taunted me. Why would I say it if it didn't happen? This is why I listen to every woman who admits they were sexually assaulted and give them the benefit of the doubt. They already suffered once. Why make them feel worse saying "They're just kids." Some should be tried as adults.