I used to think counselors were stupid.
That any person who went to see a counselor, was.
Young minds are naive, ignorant, uninformed… maybe it’s better that way.
Maybe it’s not.
Now, almost everyone I know has seen or routinely sees a counselor. The people who are close to me that don’t, probably should. I wish they would.
When we are young, the knowledge of a person we know regularly receiving counseling seems as rare as knowing a rapist or murderer. We knew broken people existed, but we didn’t think we’d ever actually know one.
But then, as we age, as we live, we become more aware of the faults in others. And even more disturbing, the faults in ourselves. Nobody is as perfect as we once thought; not even our family members who have provided us with endless love and support since the day we took in our first breath of unbiased air. They have known us as long as forever, so we assume it’s our duty to love them back.
But it’s not.
A baby’s first moral responsibility is not to blindly reciprocate love to those who have forced their random, imperfect, twisted version of “love” on them. Because babies don’t know love.
A person’s first moral duty is, instead, to get to know the family they’ve been blessed into. The problem, though, is that sometimes adults don’t allow themselves vulnerable to such simple understanding.
Babies don’t know anything about you. You don’t know much about a newborn baby. But this isn’t like cutting your hair and moving to a new state. A baby is not an excuse to modify your being.
Hide deceitfully behind your masks all you can, until those babies grow up and learn for themselves that you are an alcoholic, a cheater, a user, a liar, a criminal, an addict—whatever.
And when they do discover your true colors, congratulations. Now you’ve broken them, just as you’re broken. They’ve already made an appointment for their first session of counseling with another human who might be, let’s say, “less broken”.
A cycle of personality destruction and trust that evaporates.
You’ve been there for that child since their first breath of unbiased air, hm? But when they need a shoulder to cry on, they don’t choose yours. Why? Because you’ve infected their virgin brain and worse maybe, lied to them. You’ve hidden inches, or maybe miles of your identity from them, and now you think you deserve to understand them? They’d rather pay $35 an hour than express themselves to you, because who are you? They don’t know anymore. But their counselor thinks you’re stupid.
The point I’m trying to make is to be yourself around children. Your TRUE self, ALL the time. REAL love is understanding. REAL love is kind. Showing children your edges won’t scar them or make them love you less. After all, the only version of love they know so far is what you’ve forced on them from the start. Instead, it will give them an early understanding of this imperfect world, and real love. Unconditional love.
And they need that. Otherwise, they will paint their own perfect masks to show to those inferior(younger), who will in return be broken by the realization of this facade upon eventual superiority(aging).
And in the end, everyone needs counselors. Who’s stupid now?