The Queen of Crushes on the Act of Confesssion

During our most recent session, my therapist called me the Queen of Crushes. She's never had a client with more crushes, she said. I crush on everyone. It's ridiculous. Male, female, young, old, teacher, friend, coworker, Budget Manager (yum), acquaintance, dog walker. If I had super high self-esteem, I'd probably crush on myself. We discussed why I get them, how they have very little to do with the people they involve, and how it's about me and how I react to certain situations.

One thing I've learned over the last year is that one must shine a light into the corners so one can see what's going on. Confession is an industrial-strength flashlight. Whether I confess in person, by accident, or confess to the empty internet, the result is the same: I'm able to let it go. Effortlessly.

Orange Crush soda by Olivander, on Flickr

The same thing happened at work.  A coworker stormed into the office one morning, frazzled and tired, ranting about how her husband abuses her and the children. I've heard this before from her and called social services, because child abuse will not go unreported on my watch. Anyway, I got harsh with her and said that by staying she was letting her children be abused.  I just wouldn't let it go, saying it over and over.  Your letting your children be abused. Of course this was pushing personal buttons because my mom stayed allowing my father to verbally abuse all of us. Finally I busted out with, "My mom allowed us to be abused and I'm still angry at her for it."

Over the next week or so, I was able to let that anger go. I'd been working on that for years, but saying it out loud in that way changed something. It still hurts, but I'm not angry anymore. I'm glad to be able to say that and mean it.

There is something about the act of confession.  

Even though I have many problems with organized religion, I think the Catholics were on to something with Confession. (Of course if one has ever watched the Borgias, one may be forgiven for assuming confession served as a place for secret communication, a place to organize illicit liaisons, and a way to gather information on the failings and weaknesses of your enemies. But I digress.) So in its holy and pure form, untainted by mendacity, confession could be a life saver. Secrets can keep you stuck. The act of speaking your truth can be liberating.