mama3girls-phnig

My mother always said I had a creative mind.
According to her, the problem was that I spent so much time with my nose in a book that I occasionally missed the world happening around me.
She may have had a point.
Years later, while reading counseling theories, I came across a case study about a student who fell in love with her teacher.

Or maybe she fell in love with his mind.

In therapeutic spaces, it is vitally and ethically important for a therapist to understand the nature of projection. Here is my attempt to understand how a dynamic like this could exist and how to “congruently” bring awareness into the room to avoid harming a client.

The case study, unfortunately, did not include the conversation I wanted.
So I made one up.
Or perhaps I reconstructed one.
Or perhaps I built a cathedral out of three comments, a lesson, and a song lyric.

What follows is part creative meaning making, part imagination, part counseling theory, and part evidence exhibit from the textbook case scenario. 

The names have been removed to protect the guilty, the innocent, and the narrator. Which is funny, since they are all in my head.

Counseling theory “Attachment” 

A built conversation to reflect on counseling theory framework (Jungian, Existentialism, RO DBT)

———-

Student: Remember that lesson?
Teacher: Which one? I’ve taught lots.
Student: “A student once asked about dating two people at once. I don’t recommend it. Not that I would know anything about that.”
Teacher: Ah. That one.
Student: The one where a teenager became a lesson illustration and the hairs stood up on the back of my neck?
Teacher: I always wondered how you almost failed theater.
Student: That’s rude.
Teacher: Is it inaccurate?
Student: Continue.
Teacher: The floor is yours.
Student: For once. I will talk fast.
You know why it stuck with me?
Teacher: Why?
Student: Because everybody wants to tell me you were oblivious.
Teacher: To what?
Student: People.
Teacher: I was a teacher. People were literally my job.
Student: Exactly.
Teacher: Student—
Student: No. My turn.
Teacher: Uh oh.
Student: You knew when I was hurting.
You knew when I was angry.
You knew which family member was which.
You knew when I was spiraling.
You knew when I needed a nap.
You even knew the exact nap time frame because you asked and I told you.
Do you know how many people have ever asked me that question?
Zero.
Teacher: That’s because normal people don’t keep office hours for naps and I was curious.
Student: See? This is why people like you.
Teacher: My devastating charm?
Student: Probably. I am actually not a fan of your charm.
Teacher: That’s a first.
Student: People are shallow.
Teacher: Ouch. Do you teach the children this?
Student: Ignoring that. But you know I am not shallow.
Teacher: That, I do know.
Student: No. Because you notice things.
Teacher: That’s literally the job description.
Student: No. It isn’t.
Lots of teachers ask how people are doing.
You asked how my nap was.
Teacher: …
Student: You knew when I needed to “lighten up, Francis.”
You knew what would make me laugh.
You knew what would make me think.
You knew what lesson illustration would send me into a writing frenzy.
You even sent me a song.
Teacher: It was a good song. You were planting wildflowers.
Student: That’s not the point.
Teacher: It usually is.
Student: See? That. Right there.
Teacher: What?
Student: You always do that.
Teacher: Do what?
Student: Deflect with a joke when things get uncomfortable.
Teacher: I prefer “strategically redirect.”
Student: I’m trying really hard not to hate you.
Teacher: You could never hate me.
Student: You are annoying.
Teacher: I resemble that statement.
Student: You sent me a song.
Teacher: Yes.
Student: And you knew songs mattered to me.
Teacher: I knew you’d listen to it.
Student: See? That’s not the same answer.
Teacher: No. It isn’t.
Student: That’s my point.
Everybody wants to tell me this was all in my head.
That you were oblivious.
That you had no idea.
And I don’t buy it.
Teacher: What don’t you buy?
Student: One, because I told you how I was feeling about you.
Two, because a man who could remember conversations from years ago, who could tell when I was upset before I opened my mouth, who could distinguish between all the people in my family, who knew my history, who knew my nap schedule, who could finish my jokes and predict my reactions…
…was somehow completely unaware.
Teacher: Unaware—
Student: Complete the sentence.
Teacher: Student—
Student: No. Let me finish if you can’t fill in the blank space.
I told you I was in love with your brain.
Teacher: That was a weird Tuesday.
Student: It was a fantastic Tuesday.
Teacher: Debatable.
Student: I quoted you often.
I showed up.
I listened.
I stayed.
I asked questions.
I laughed at your jokes.
I remembered your lessons.
I wrote because of your lessons.
And somehow I’m supposed to believe you never noticed?
Teacher: I didn’t say I never noticed.
Student: There it is.
Teacher: There what is?
Student: An honest answer.
Teacher: You are gifted.
Student: STOP. That is absolutely where I thought you would go and it is not going to work today.
Teacher: That doesn’t even make sense.
Student: It makes perfect sense in my head.
Teacher: Which is exactly the concern.
Student: See? Deflecting.
Teacher: Surviving.
Student: Continue.
Teacher: Most people hear “gifted” and think it’s a compliment.
Student: And?
Teacher: I mean it the way a mechanic says, “Well, that’s interesting.”
Student: Rude.
Teacher: Accurate?
Student: Continue.
Teacher: You connect dots nobody else can see.
Student: Thank you.
Teacher: Sometimes because the dots are there.
Student: And sometimes?
Teacher: Sometimes because you brought your own dots.
Student: That is not a thing. Your data dots are turning into a solid line. There’s not a ton of blank space left between the dots.
Teacher: It is a thing.
Student: I’m listening.
Teacher: You notice patterns. Meanings. Subtext.
Student: Yes.
Teacher: You can build an entire cathedral out of three comments, a lesson illustration, and a song lyric.
Student: It’s a gift.
Teacher: Exactly.
Student: Wait.
Teacher: There it is.
Student: That sounded suspiciously like an insult.
Teacher: It was admiration with a caution label.
Student: Fair.
Teacher: You always wanted certainty.
Student: Because uncertainty is awful…
Teacher: And I always knew you were looking for answers to questions nobody could answer cleanly.
Student: Such as?
Teacher: Such as how much I knew.
Student: Ah.
Teacher: Ah.
Student: So how much did you know?
Teacher: Still asking.
Student: Still breathing.
Teacher: Sigh.
Student: Well?
Teacher: Enough to know you cared. A lot.
Student: That’s not the same thing.
Teacher: No. It isn’t.
Student: Then what is?
Teacher: Understanding what someone feels and understanding what they mean are not always identical.
Student: That sounds like teacher language. Meaning, vague.
Teacher: Occupational hazard.
Student: I hate when you do that.
Teacher: Strategically redirect?
Student: Continue in obscure language and vague innuendo.
Teacher: Student?
Student: What?
Teacher: You always did assume the most fantastic explanation.
Student: And you always assumed the funniest one.
Teacher: Usually because it was better.
Student: Not always.
Teacher: I prefer when you leave the jokes to me.
Student: You’re not always as funny as you think you are. Again, deflecting. HOW MUCH did you know?
Teacher: Ah. Clears throat.
Student: There it is.
Teacher: There what is?
Student: The question. You always clear your throat when you’re uncomfortable.
Teacher: The question you’ve been asking for years is uncomfortable.
Student: Yes. I’m aware. I live it in my body daily.
Teacher: And the one you’re never going to stop asking…
Student: Probably not.
Teacher: Lighten up, Francis.
Student: I wish I could. Tell my nervous system that. Actually, don’t. You’d probably regulate me.
Teacher: I know.
Student: That’s the problem.
Teacher: No.
Student: What’s the problem?
Teacher: You always did love a good ending more than a true one.
Student: Says the man gifted with movie quotes. Also says the man who encouraged me to write a book not about the subject he taught—
As a teacher. So what book did YOU want me to write. A romance?

Teacher: Maybe not. Not looking so hot right now.

Student: Yeah. So don’t hold your gifted movie quote breath waiting for one.
Teacher: I am gifted with movie quotes.
Student: Well, I’m gifted with song quotes.
Teacher: That sounds dangerous.
Student: Dangerous my ass. Actually, after that last adjective I’m dedicating the entire song to you.
Teacher: Oh no.
Student: “And I was never good at telling jokes, but the punch line goes, I’ll get older, but your lovers stay my age.”
Teacher: Student—
Student: What? Ever listened to All Too Well?
Teacher: Is that the one Johnny Cash wrote?
Student: Funny.
Teacher: I’ll take that as a “no.” Shame.
Student: Story of my life. Also another song by One Direction.
Teacher: Okayyyyy.
Student: And?
Teacher: The truth is I knew a lot.
Student: How much?
Teacher: More than you think.
Student: How much?
Teacher: Less than you’re afraid of.
Student: That’s an infuriating answer.
Teacher: I know.
Student: That’s the other problem.
Teacher: What?
Student: You usually do.