The listener

Here’s a part of my history that feels like a very sticky sucky bog.  I’ve got to a place where I can at least move, and I can see how when I was completely trapped, it was about me and the messages I put out. Now that I’ve begun to change, I know intellectually that it’s still about the message I put out, but I can’t catch myself doing it!  Crap.

It’s about the role I take in any relationship as the listener.  It would be funny if it wasn’t so frustrating.  Since I started this process of changing my life, I’ve become aware that in any conversation with anybody I take the back seat, I don’t claim my power, I don’t talk.  I just listen.

For much of my life I’ve been tormented by people I’ve drawn into my world who needed to talk and didn’t want to listen.  I couldn’t do anything about it, I’d listen and listen and listen, while my frustration rose until I wanted to explode, and I was powerless to say “I have to go now, or it’s my turn to talk”!

I knew it was about me, and the signal I put out, a signal that said “you can talk and I’ll listen” but I couldn’t actually see myself doing it.  How is it possible to be so utterly out of touch with the reality of your own behavior and of the things that drive you?  Weird.

This is how it goes sometimes.  I’ll see somebody and they’ll be thrilled.  They’ll talk about themselves, or their ideas etc, and I’ll listen.  They’ll be very animated.  Then when I say something that’s about me they deflate in an instant and pretty soon they have to go.

It’s enough now.


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