We talked about this Friday, will continue Monday when I go.
Having been adopted and my adoptive mother telling me she wasn't my real mother, I have spent my life in search of this elusive relationship.
It's almost like a cellophane membrane exists between myself and the world.
T said, though that was the language of the time, it is none the less shocking.
She asked about how I feel regarding my husband and children. I said, now, because of the amount of therapy I've had, I no longer question the realness of those relationships, but still question our one - T and I - T said how about if we replace 'real' with authentic? She has me there, I can't find fault with her authenticity, but I added I question mine with her?
She said I was more authentic within therapy than perhaps elsewhere? I questioned thst, she said, what about the times you are distressed, isn't thst authentic?
Yes, she got me again. But, still, because of my early experience I struggle with letting myself feel real. Or even understand it fully.
T said, yes, My early experience with being told my adoptive mother wasn't my real mother lies underneath my confusion.
I shall continue this topic next week with T.