12/24/2025

My therapist and I used to have a routine disagreement about my wisdom and intelligence. She’d be very vocal about her perspective and hope for me.

That one day I might at the bare minimum acknowledge I was smart.

“But”, she’d say, “If you could see how brilliant your mind is and how truly wise you are…the journey will begin”.

Obviously, I’d sit there and argue all my points as to why I knew nothing and was quite the idiot. “People have told me so”, I’d demand. She’d discredit every witness…

I was always irritated during these conversations. One of the last conversations,…debates, we had on the topic she stated, “This relationship ends when you believe you’re smarter than me. When you believe I have nothing else to teach you”.

I believe this women saved my life more times than I can count. This statement, to a point, still sounds ridiculous to me.

I worked with her for 10 years because she was brilliant. And, to be outright frank-called me on my shit.

I was irritated because she was calling out a shield I used to survive. She was challenging it’s truth and therefore, it’s existence. And I can’t let go of a tool that saved my sanity (whatever amount I have left of it).

I stopped seeing her 1.5 years ago. I said it was because I got busy and finances shifted. I don’t think I was honest with her but only because I wasn’t honest with myself. I seriously believed I would return when things settled. I always came back.

When the time came I just couldn’t seem to “find the reason” to go. Not because I felt “cured” or better. I couldn’t place the feeling or even speculate on the potential reasons I suddenly didn’t need it while also needing something.

Not until this summer.

The feeling,…consideration dawned on me. (yes, despite being bluntly told for a decade. I’m regrettably stubborn.)

Her final words played over in my head. “Did our relationship actually end?” And if so, would it mean I believe I’m not so stupid after all?

I experimented with the idea.

The findings were hard to refute- even for me.

The longer I’ve sat with this perspective.

“hmmm, I’m not soooo stupid?”.

The more it’s corrected my vision. At least cleared some of the fog. Enough for me to see that what I’m looking at is truly a shield.

I pretend to be stupid. I have all my life. If I look at this from a more surface point of view and a concrete linear process it’s clear where it comes from. We can tie the story to a series of events where I’m told and treated like I’m stupid, yes. AND, the most important/significant person in this being my mother. It was one of the many criticisms she had for me.

However, I think this defense was also created for another reason.

It didn’t become clear until this weekend.

There wasn’t a feeling of shock or even disappointment.

Just this, “Oh, right”… kind of a confirmation.

I regressed… progressively so the smaller the number of miles between us became.

But I couldn’t JUST be a regressed version of me.

I had my baby and so I watched as I moved between these two selves.

The little one and this… protector…defensive…mother.

And this mother self couldn’t play stupid. No, she needed to be smart and wise for her baby.

There was no way it wasn’t that.

I couldn’t sacrifice him for the mortality of my shield. The choice has always been him- it’s why I’m still here…

So many things overlap and are webbed into this.

But for the purposes of tightening it up…

This defense has allowed me to gaslight myself.

I can continue to live in denial and maybe that doubt will always come lingering back. BUT, with this shield I would never have to face the facts of what my life has been like.

I oscillate between believing myself and doubting it all but the defense has always won the battle.

If I’m stupid, then how could I possibly know what I’m talking about? None of it really happened…

If I’m stupid, then I don’t have to be painfully aware of the show and dance everyone participates in. I could participate too.

If I’m stupid, I can stay small, stay seated. I evade responsibility.

If I’m stupid, I don’t need to be the “bad guy” that wakes everyone up. I avoid judgment of the dirty truths I already so shamefully repress.

Awareness comes at a huge cost. You must sacrifice and leave behind those who cannot and/or choose to not open their eyes.

I have been singled out, outcasted, and punished for being different all my life. When all I really wanted was to be accepted. All I wanted was to belong somewhere and couldn’t understand what about me was so wrong. If I play stupid with them then at the very least, couldn’t be rejected for being anything other than that.

Stupidity allows me to avoid the anger and resentment of never being protected.

It allows me to ignore my desire to belong somewhere as myself,…Eeyore

To avoid facing the guilt that comes from making the choice. The harm I am to cause for being authentically me and leaving them behind. And for no other reason other than I no longer want to be, here.

Behind the defense is someone who is capable, perceptive, brilliant, and potentially disruptive.

The group has never had a need for these qualities. They made me worthless and a rebel.

Emotional and artistic has no place in this dynamic.

My therapist would also ask a routine question to trigger reflection, “Is it them rejecting you or is there a part of you rejecting them?”.

“Is this where you even want to be? Do you really care what they think?”

I suppose I just feel I SHOULD.

I think this restless feeling I’ve had for the last year is coming from deep part of me that knows my time is running out.

The shield no longer works if I can’t get myself to believe in it anymore.

So, if the answer is that I’m smart.

What next?

I’ve been holding my breath in the in-between because I know keeping one foot out stalls the inevitable domino effect that is to come should I drop this shield.

I can’t change the past and the damage it caused- the years lost.

The childhood forsaken.

It’s pretty evident that I was right.

I watch the predictability of everyone’s choices and even my own.

I’ve spent life in survival and in pain. Wanting out.

Choosing to live for one person. Is that all there is?

It’s hard to fuel my tank with this if I’m no longer hiding behind the defense of idiocy.

So if I move forward, what would it be for? What is the point?

It’s obnoxiously clear that I need courage to solve this one.

Do I have or can I find the courage to live past the worst things that happened to me?

In service of what or who?