Today I talked to my mother on the phone. I didn't go to work today because I am sick with a bad cold.

The first thing my mother said to me:

"What did you do to catch a cold?"

I immediately told her that this is a freakin' bizarre question to ask someone! What I didn't say is that this is a perfect example of how she irrationally and annoyingly lays blame where none is deserved. I wish I had the guts to tell her this, but instead I just listened to her explain herself. Apparently my mother, who I consider fairly educated, still subscribes to the school of thought that teaches that one can catch a cold by dressing inappropriately for the weather. So I told her no, I caught my cold just like everyone else does. I simply contracted a virus.

I just wanted my own mother to express a little bit of sympathy, so this whole exchange annoyed me and made me regret making the phone call. I immediately thought of my therapist. My therapist is not a perfect person either, to be fair. She has had her graceless moments as well. But I don't think she would have blamed me for being sick. I think she would have immediately expressed sympathy and asked if I was doing okay. Especially since she would remember that I live alone and have no one else to ask that question.

But now I'm thinking that if I didn't have a therapist, maybe my mother's minor thoughtlessness wouldn't have even registered on my radar? Maybe I would have just come up with a funny one-liner and not have given it a second thought? Before I met my therapist, my mother was the only person I would talk to about "stuff". Sometimes she would make things better; most times she did not, despite her efforts. But her failures at making everything better didn't matter because she was all I had. I made do with what she able to provide and took care of the slack.

But now I have someone whose job is to always know the "right" thing to say. I have a choice of whom to turn to. It is hard for me not to draw comparisons that always put my mother in the inferior position. It is hard for me to pretend to be satisfied with my mother's pleadings for me to just "trust in the Lord" when my therapist actually gives me practical advice. And she doesn't make me feel like I've done something wrong. I know how to accept blame even when it's not my fault. My therapist seems to recognize this. My mother doesn't.

I feel guilty for keeping myself away from my mother when I'm so open and relaxed with my therapist--so that the latter knows me a trillion times better than the former does. And I feel guilty for wishing my mother would measure up to the standards set by someone she doesn't even know, when I know she's only trying her best.

Has anyone else ever experienced having a sense of betrayal by connecting with their therapist so well?