Page 277 of Tell Me I'm Enough

He doesn’t even smile at that. “Be specific.”

I rub my jaw, stalling. “Responsibilities,” I finally say, giving in a little. “Expectations. Feeling like I’m never going to be enough…like I’m exactly everything people tell me I am.”

He nods slowly. “Where do you think that comes from?”

I laugh lightly under my breath. “Trauma from childhood, probably. Isn’t that the answer to everything?”

He doesn’t laugh. He just waits. And I hate that he waits. Hate that he forces me to sit with those feelings and doesn’t let my humor cover it all up.

“I grew up in a home where if something broke, it was automatically my job to fix it. Even if it wasn’t my fault…it wasmadeto be my fault.”

“Your dad had a lot to do with that, right?”

I exhale through my nose. “Sure. Yeah, probably.”

“Tell me about him?”

“What about him?” I counter, getting defensive like a reflex.

“How was growing up with your dad after your mother died?”

I hate that word. Hate how it still feels so permanent after so many years.

“Hell,” I toss out, then smile. “A lot like this right now.”

His face goes flat like he’s already tired of my shit.

Get in line.

The silence stretches until I give in to him.

“I guess I learned early that if I kept things light and tried not to care, then his words wouldn’t be able to hurt me and I could steer things in an easier direction.”

He leans forward. “So you learned that your job was to regulate the emotional climate of the house.”

“I learned that someone had to,” I shoot back.

“You were a child.”

“And?”

“And that wasn’t your job.”

I stiffen. “Well, I didn’t see anyone else volunteering.”

He watches me carefully. “Don’t you see the pattern?”

“What pattern?”

“You take responsibility for things that aren’t your responsibility. You believe that if you don’t manage other people’s emotions, something bad will happen. You act like you’re fine, so you won’t burden other people with your feelings.”

“That’s not—” I stop.

Because, yeah, it kind of is.

“It’s not like I’m controlling people,” I say defensively. “I’m just…aware and know how to pivot things.”

“You’re hyperaware,” he corrects. “You anticipate problems before they happen. And typically run away from them.”