There's a train platform, beyond the known, upon which you may have stood. Similar to that platform for Harry Potter's train to Hogwarts, it exists only for those with special access. We gather there, tickets long crumpled in sweaty hands, waiting for the Midnight Train to Torture. Not dreaming, but awake, we ride the tracks of very special memories: those of bewildered pain.
But WHY did she leave? WHY did he say that awful thing? What did I do to deserve THAT? How COULD she? We labor in the wee hours, straining as we shovel our already-painfully-hot coal into the firebox. Faster and faster flies the train, as we seek a destination of meaning, or at least of wisdom. We yearn for explanations, but there is no wise Conductor serving hot chocolate and answers...or there are too many to count.
I am absolutely certain that 99.9% of interpersonal issues and drama in our relationships can be ultimately traced to one cause: wanting people to be different from how they actually are. Included in that percentage is all those times that we want people to stop behaving in ways that WE actually behave, too. What if we could all just relax a little, and see and accept people for all of who they are? What if we could each just let others be?
The 7 Childhood Treasures open, at birth, with a "turn-key" solution, in my not-so-humble professional opinion. Owning your Treasure of Trust and being needy are what it's all about.
Imagine this: you can make everyone around you do exactly as you want them to, literally with a snap of your fingers. When you hold out your hand in silent demand, you receive what you want. Always. You point your finger, and arch an eyebrow, and your will is done.
Here it is again. You started out talking about what movie to go see and, somehow, you're arguing about money. In fact, you're having the same argument about money that you've had at least weekly for...how long has it been?
Not long ago, I watched an episode of a favorite series online, in which a character's actions had deeply disappointed and betrayed someone he loved very much...and he knew how she felt. Figuring he had ruined a really significant relationship in his life, he pulled out a bottle of liquor and a glass as his coping strategy. I actually said out loud to my computer screen, "Oh, good. Booze and bitter regret. (Turn up the sarcasm volume here.) Nothing bad ever came from that combination."
There it was, in somebody else's black and white, not mine: "...as members of a social species, we don't derive strength from our rugged individualism, but rather from our collective ability to plan, communicate, and work together." ~Brene' Brown, in Braving the Wilderness, explaining the work of neuroscience researcher John Cacioppo, University of Chicago.
I'll tell you a secret about your most important relationship, such as with your spouse/partner, close sibling, or dear friend. You choose who; the secret is the same.