A client (the moth, if you remember my prior post) sat across from me, his voice steady at first.
Thank you for reading this post, don't forget to subscribe!“It’s not the deadlines. I can juggle deadlines. What keeps me up is how I bury myself… committees, extra projects, every shiny rollout. I build the mess and then wonder why I can’t crawl out.”
He hesitated, then added quietly:
“And there’s her. When we’re in the same room, I feel it. My attention wanders. And I think she feels it too. [Quickly] Yes, I know that sounds delusional. It all feels… impossible. But also somehow like the thing I’ve been waiting for.”
I leaned in. “What is it you think you’re waiting for?”
He paused. “Someone who sees me. Who makes me feel awake and worth their time.”
“And what makes you believe she’s that someone, beyond the way it feels in the moment?”
His silence was the answer, and it stretched…
He exhaled, finally. “So maybe it’s not about her at all, it’s about what I’m craving?”
“Exactly. The harder question is how do you give yourself that, without making it dependent on someone who can’t play a part… even if you’re right about any shared feelings?”
***
Here’s the thing: as I said last week, our minds are brilliant at projection. We take a glance across a room and dress it up like destiny. We write the story, cast the lead, and forget that in reality, the stage directions never match the script.
That’s why it feels so powerful. We can create a perfect relationship in theory, and theory never argues with you about laundry, money, or who turn it is to do the dishes. The impossibility is the feature, not the bug.
That’s why the coaching isn’t about “stop feeling this.” It’s about asking: what’s underneath the feeling that you actually want more of in your life? Attention? Play? Recognition? Intensity? Those are worth chasing, not a storyline that only works because it’s unfinished.
And that’s the part that usually keeps us up at night is not the impossible person, but the very real longing they represent.
