Before my next session with Lena, I remembered an old idea—I wanted to write a book. It seemed to me like the only way to explain the entire situation with Nadya, to figure out the whole problem. I realized that this would be my next step—to write a book about my life for Nadya and anyone else who might be interested.
When our session started, Lena looked unusual—she was sitting there with a selfishly elevated mood, like an adult mother expecting her “child” to share something new and amusing. It was unpleasant; she clearly wasn’t taking me seriously.
We called at the usual time, and the first thing I said was, “Lena, I’m angry.” She smiled and asked, “What happened?” I replied, “Lena, so I have a crush, right?” She said, “Oh, are you upset about a crush or something?” I firmly stated, “Lena, I don’t need your sympathy. I don’t need your pity. Sympathy means you see yourself as above me and think that I made mistakes and ended up in a bad situation. I am not in a ‘bad environment.’ Everything that happens in my life is the result of my own choices. I take full responsibility for my life, I am aware of my actions and my plans. Your sympathy is just a bunch of clichés, and it has nothing to do with reality.”
Lena’s face changed instantly. The mask of smug mentorship turned into a serious and focused expression. I had never seen that look on her face before.
Then I said, “Lena, I have an idea, a solution, the universe suggested it to me.” Lena playfully replied, “Oh really,” as if she were listening to a funny story from a child. But as soon as I mentioned the book, her face changed again—she was shocked. I continued to talk about my decision, and as I spoke, Lena sat in absolute shock.
Lena kept silent, but I could see she was starting to think. So I decided to go further: “You talked about pain. But if I really felt pain, I would probably try to pressure Nadya, use emotional manipulation. But I don’t do that, because it’s my principled position. I consciously act in a way so as not to manipulate. I get things done, and that’s how I get her attention—not through tricks or emotional games. I’ve been alone my whole life, but everything I’ve achieved, I’ve done by myself. And I don’t see any pain in that, because pain is the result of egoism, when people try to force someone to do what they want, and it doesn’t work out. But I am not an egoist.”
After that, Lena’s face changed again; she clearly hadn’t expected such directness. I went on, “If you feel anger towards Nadya and try to convince me that she’s bad because she doesn’t answer me, to make me feel the same anger, then go see your own psychologist. I don’t need that. I don’t feel any anger towards Nadya. She’s doing everything right. Why should she answer me? Maybe she still doesn’t trust me enough. Or maybe I’m not as good as I seem. What if I let her down afterwards? She can’t take that risk right away. I need to earn her trust.”
I paused and added, “I just live my life, accepting it as it is, and I don’t try to impose anything on her. Nadya will respond when she feels ready.”
Lena was stunned. Her previous confidence evaporated, and her face showed a mix of emotions that were hard to decipher. She definitely hadn’t expected this level of depth and maturity from me.
I continued, “You know what annoys me every time? Every time people try to label my situation as something standard: ‘a crush.’ This has been going on for 13 years. Every time someone hears that I want to reconcile with my ex, they immediately start spouting their ‘set of templates’: she’s afraid of me, I’m not worthy of her, I’m a hopeless egoist, I’m not an adult, I can’t let go of the past. Seriously? They tell me I’m still a child, that I’m an idiot, that I’m acting foolishly. This whole list of nonsense starts every time anyone hears that I want some kind of interaction with my ex. All these phrases are standard, never actually thought out, spoken without any attempt to understand.”
Lena was silent, and I added, “But I’m fully aware of what I’m doing—it’s my conscious choice. For example, so that Nadya wouldn’t be afraid of me, I specifically moved to the other side of the world—to California. How much further could I go? And yet you all keep telling me: ‘She’s afraid of you, she’s afraid of you.’ What kind of nonsense is that? You are completely misjudging the situation.”
At that point, I noticed Lena really didn’t know what to say. This was another moment when she couldn’t find a canned answer that would fit into her usual patterns. She saw me as a child, even though I’ve been living an adult life for a long time. I realized that her perception of me was completely wrong.
I continued, “Tell me, what would happen if I let go of Nadya and forgot about her? Would my childhood end, maybe? Is that the problem?” And then Lena agreed. I was shocked—so she actually thinks that my entire life experience at 36, everything I’ve been through, all the conclusions I’ve come to, is just childhood, immaturity.
I asked her, “So what, do I need to rewrite the program in my head?” Lena answered “yes” again, but this time in a quiet voice, looking at me with obvious surprise. At that moment, I was stunned—all my suspicions were confirmed. She really saw me as someone who thinks like a child and can’t understand adult life.
After that, one big question started spinning in my head: how is this even possible? I’m 36, I have two higher degrees—one in the humanities and one in engineering. I’ve read a huge number of books, traveled to many parts of the world, I have friends in different countries. I’ve been in relationships with different women, I have 20 years of career experience, including teaching. I’ve built a life for myself based on knowledge, experience, and reflection. And now Lena erased all of that in one swoop. For her, all of that is just childhood. In her opinion, I still haven’t entered adulthood. This moment caused a powerful sense of dissonance in me. How can you ignore everything I’ve been through and reduce it to “childish immaturity”? It was so absurd and humiliating that I didn’t even know what to think.
Of course, she erased all that, because she never asked me any real questions. How could she know? The only question that really interested her was whether Nadya had children. A person who sees children in everyone and only cares about children. I thought: a typical “mommy,” not a psychologist. She was more concerned with the child aspects and saw me as a naïve kid rather than an adult who had been through a lot. Lena didn’t try to understand my life—she just projected her motherly role onto me.
I began to explain, “How many years have I written to Nadya, how much have I talked about her, how many consequences in my life because of her. Even now, you and I are talking about her, and in your opinion, all of this is just emptiness, something useless? Just take Nadya and forget her? Are you serious? Someone who was in my life for so many years—do you really think that’s just something unnecessary I should throw away?” Lena stayed silent, and I realized she was just stretching the situation over her usual templates, trying to fit it into her patterns and present it as the truth. She didn’t see anything deeper.
I continued, “You probably think I’m ‘asleep,’ that I don’t see reality? And how am I asleep? Because maybe Nadya doesn’t like the cartoon ‘Finding Nemo’ anymore? Recently I was at an aquarium, filming fish for Nadya, looking for Nemo and Dory to send her. Is that how I’m asleep? Do you think she stopped loving that cartoon?” Lena just sat there, shocked by what I was telling her.
I told her, “After February 24, 2022, everyone told me there’s no way I’ll ever get to the US, that all my hopes are just childhood, that I’m asleep! But I still made it to the US.” Lena sat in silence, her expression showing she didn’t know how to respond. It was just more proof that she had never really tried to understand my situation or the depth of my thinking.
I have to say, my speech went on for an hour. It was logical, convincing, with no cognitive distortions. I clearly and consistently showed my view of the situation, and this only left Lena even more confused. She obviously wasn’t prepared for that level of awareness and depth.
In the end, she said, “Well, if it works for you, then fine.” That was the last nail in her professional coffin. After that, we canceled our sessions with each other. I couldn’t talk to this liar anymore.
