Liv:Right and—
Caller:It’s my friend, Sarah, she’s such a smug cow.
Liv:Can you avoid swearing or mentioning any names? We don’t want to identify any—
Caller:Fine, but how do I tell her to stop showing off about everything? It’s making me feel rubbish.
Liv:Can you give me an example?
Caller:Like, she just got a new job and kept talking about how great it is and how all the people on her new team are so brilliant. I know it’s way more money, too. And that’s just the latest in a long line of stuff she’s constantly boasting about. Everything seems to go her way, she’s the luckiest person I ever met. I couldn’t listen to it this time, I’ve had enough. I told her I wasn’t interested and to stop shoving her success in my face.
Liv:[long pause] Well, god, I’m glad you’re notmyfriend.
Caller:What?
Liv:We should be able to celebrate our successes with our loved ones. It doesn’t sound much like she’s throwing it in your face; she’s just trying to share her excitement with you. Wouldn’t it be sad if your friend didn’t want to do that? You’re so busy comparing your life to hers, you’ve forgotten that you’re meant to love this person and should be happy for her happiness. Comparing ourselves is a dead-end road full of self-loathing and resentment.
Caller:[silence]
Liv:It’s so easy to forget that we’re all living here, inside our heads, feeling insecure and doubting ourselves. We assume we’re the only ones feeling like that because everyone else is putting their best foot forward – by which I mean, their best photos on Instagram forward. You need to reframe your thoughts, Zaya. Instead of thinking, ‘She’s got everything I want and is showing off,’ try telling yourself, ‘She’s worked so hard and is finally getting what she deserves.’ She’s not living her life just to spite you. So, stop comparing yourself to her and be a better friend.
Caller:[long sigh] Okay, I guess…
[watch again?]
Liv Carpenter says comparing yourself never gets you anywhere
#LivCarpenter #BBCMorningTea #RelationshipTherapist #AgonyAunt #AdviceColumn #LifeCoach #Wisdom #LivCoolAndCollectedCarpenter #KeepCalmandCarpenter #BeABetterFriend #StopComparingYourself #LivForPresident
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Weirdly, Edward doesn’t look too impressed by my first week of anger journaling. His eyes flick across the page, his brows furrowed, and I feel a small crush of embarrassment. I shouldn’t have sworn all over it, that was immature. But, in the moment, that’s what I felt like writing. I was being, y’know, honest and authentic! Iwantedto be childish and petty. I wanted to treat the assignment with the dignity I felt it deserved.
He sighs after a moment. ‘I know you weren’t exactly thrilled about this when your agent – he’s a character, isn’t he – first suggested these sessions.’ He leans forward, looking thoughtful and intense. ‘But they told me you’d had a change of heart; that you were keen to go ahead and wanted to try. Your producer, Spencer, and Fabian both said you had requested to meet with me specifically because we already had this collegial relationship. I was worried it would beunprofessional since we work together as colleagues, but they insisted. They promised me you were open to it.’
‘I am open!’ I snap.
‘Clearly you’re not!’ He sounds exasperated, waving at the stupid journal. He looks up, making eye contact again. ‘Look, Olivia, would you rather meet with someone else? I would understand. It’s important to find the right therapist and it could be someone outside of the therapy collective. I have a list—’
‘No,’ I say quickly. The thought of having to start again – and with a stranger! – suddenly seems much worse, even, than being here with him. We sit in silence for another minute.
‘You’re sure?’ he asks, eyes searching mine. ‘If you’re worried aboutMorning Teafinding out that you’ve switched therapists, I could—’ I shoot him a warning look at the mention ofMorning Tea, and he brings his hands up in a gesture of surrender. ‘Sorry, I know that topic is off limits.’ I scowl and he sighs. ‘Okay,’ he says at last. ‘Well, I’m getting the feeling the journal itself needed to be noted down as something that made you angry.’ He looks faintly amused.
‘Sorry,’ I mutter, feeling my cheeks get hot.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he tells me kindly, putting the journal to one side. The fact that he’s being nice about it has made this worse. I thought he’d be supercilious and snotty. I thought I’d get slapped down, instead of this mildly disappointed act.
He cocks his head ever so slightly. ‘Why do you think you find it so much easier to give advice than take it?’
I feel myself bristle again. ‘That’s not true,’ I say as neutrally as I can. I fight an urge to pick my phone back up and start playing the coloured test tube game again. ‘I’m absolutely fine listening to advice.’ I then add quickly, ‘When it’s warranted or relevant.’ He’s looking at me, so I continue, aware I’m slightly babbling. ‘I listen to Sam’s advice! Even though it’s mostly terrible. And I listened to Justin’s advice when we were together. He had plenty of opinions on my work and my clothes and my life choices…’ I trail off when I catch something passing across his face. It’s gone before I can pin it down and he’s back to being inscrutable.
He clears his throat lightly. ‘Do you think your relationship with Justin was healthy?’
I blow out my cheeks, feeling like I’ve been slapped. You can’t just go straight to a question like that! Edward should be building trust with me, not intimating that I make shit choices.
I lean in. ‘Doyouthink my relationship with Justin was healthy?’ For good measure I add, ‘Ed?’
He smiles tightly and I can see he’s vaguely annoyed. I know I’m being a bit mean. Maybe even belittling. I’m prodding that professional façade for any exterior cracks.
