“If I don’t handle it, no one will. If I relax, something bad will happen. If I need too much, I become a problem. If someone says they’ve got it, I should probably verify. If I allow someone in, they will use me.”
I looked at her. “That is annoyingly accurate.”
A small smile touched her mouth. “The important thing is that those rules were created by a younger you, who was doing her best with the information she had. You kept yourself safe.”
Something in my chest tightened. “So, what? I’m being haunted by my own childhood?”
“In a sense, yes,” she said, which was rude of her. “But not by weakness. By adaptation. That younger version of you is not trying to ruin your life. She is trying to protect you using very old information.”
That went uncomfortably deep immediately.
“She doesn’t know what you know now,” Dr. Ellie said. “She doesn’t know you can leave situations that are unhealthy.She doesn’t know boundaries exist. She doesn’t know that some people can be disappointed without making it your responsibility. She doesn’t know that not every relationship leads to chaos.”
I cleared my throat. “So, what am I supposed to do? Inform her the situation has changed?”
“More or less,” Dr. Ellie said. “By recognizing when she’s running the show and reminding her that you are an adult now. You can hold boundaries. You can assess what is actually happening in front of you. You can choose carefully, instead of assuming every discomfort is danger.”
I was quiet for a moment. “That sounds suspiciously close to talking to myself.”
“It is talking to yourself,” she said. “But with more kindness than you may be used to.”
That was offensive on several levels because she was right.
Dr. Ellie tapped her pen on her notepad. “The goal is not to become less discerning. Your caution exists for a reason. The goal is to help the younger, frightened part of you learn that discernment is different from permanent alarm.”
I stared at the rug. “And eventually she’s supposed to believe me?”
“Eventually,” Dr. Ellie said, “she gets evidence. Safe people. Safe boundaries. Repetition is key. You don’t force trust all at once. You build it. Including with yourself.”
Dr. Ellie rested her pen on the notebook.
“One of the goals we’ll work toward,” she said, “is helping you identify safe people.”
“Definesafe.”
“People who respect your boundaries. People who don’t require you to solve their lives for them. People who allow you to show vulnerability without punishing you for it. Once youidentify those people, you can allow them access to your life at a pace that feels manageable.”
“Access?” I repeated.
“Yes. And vulnerability.”
“That sounds risky.”
“It is.” She smiled slightly. “But it’s also how healthy relationships develop.”
I thought about Pine Hollow. I thought about Bobbi climbing through my balcony window with a backpack full of snacks and social commentary.
And then my brain did something extremely inconvenient. It produced an image of Liam standing in my kitchen, holding a plate of food, and watching me in a way that made it difficult to pretend he didn’t notice everything.
I looked down at the floor.
Dr. Ellie scribbled something on a small card and handed it to me. “For this week, I want you to try two things.”
I took the card.
“First, notice when you feel responsible for solving someone else’s problem. Pause before stepping in. And remember that adult you lives a different life from the version of you trying to protect you.”
“That sounds uncomfortable.”
