I have a best friend who regularly reminds me I'm not his best friend.
His best friend died three years ago, but still occupies the title of number one.
"But if he's dead," I ask, "what could I possibly do to be your best friend now?"
"I don't know" he says, patting me on the back, "but I'm excited to see what you'll try."
When I shared this with my therapist, she said, "Taren, that's not friendship. That's control and manipulation. You don't have to compete with a dead man or to be anyone's 'number one',"
Wow!
Jealous much, Linda?
I let her know that of all my therapists, Greg and I agree she's not even in the top five.
His best friend died three years ago, but still occupies the title of number one.
"But if he's dead," I ask, "what could I possibly do to be your best friend now?"
"I don't know" he says, patting me on the back, "but I'm excited to see what you'll try."
When I shared this with my therapist, she said, "Taren, that's not friendship. That's control and manipulation. You don't have to compete with a dead man or to be anyone's 'number one',"
Wow!
Jealous much, Linda?
I let her know that of all my therapists, Greg and I agree she's not even in the top five.
