A Two Apologizes
Amy Zoll
Dear Intense Relationships of a Lifetime,
This is a letter of apology to those of you who I thought needed my love, wisdom, advice, help, etc. Please forgive the arrogance of my thinking that I knew what you needed. I didn’t consciously manipulate you, I thought what I was feeling was sincere.
It is only now, after years of painful repetitions, grace, gentle therapy, and the wisdom of the Enneagram, that I dare look at the truth—how I was meeting my needs through you. I can now see what you all had in common that triggered my own compulsive behavior.
Many of you were an 8, 6, 4 or sister 2. Often we shared a common spiritual, philosophical or social ideal, but not always. Sometimes, this was where I thought you needed my guidance—ahh! Most of you had what I perceived as big energy, strength and intensity. You were lots less dependent on what others thought of you than I was. Often others found your behavior outrageous. I could be the one to understand and interpret you. Because people liked and trusted me, I could be useful to you in implementing your agenda, ie: starting schools, finding clients for your professional practice, etc. I could listen to your story over and over again. I could feel what you had missed as a child. Sometimes a spring of love would well up inside me, flow into all your empty spaces and fill me up. If you were in pain, I felt that pain in myself. I wanted to bring you into my circle of warmth. I didn’t want you to be out there alone anymore. I could sense what you needed me to be and I could become that.
As we connected, the energy surged in me. When I would feel a change in you—the doubting or hard to reach one, I was energized. In your needing me, I found my face. I was worth something and you would take care of me. I lived in your eyes. That’s where I went to find myself. If I looked there and I found trust and you still needed me, then I found my sense of well-being again. When that was gone, I felt panic and a desperate longing to fix it.
Inevitably, I was shocked by how much you really did need because I had thought you were the powerful one. I guess none of us are all that strong and independent behind those defenses. I felt overwhelmed, I couldn’t breathe. I felt controlled and manipulated. I had wanted you to see ME. Instead, I was trapped in who you needed me to be—not who I really was. I wanted to be free.
Some of you knew all along what was happening but danced anyway with your own projections. Sometimes we learned a lot from each other. I learned a lot about myself from you. I hope some of what came through me was genuine love and help.
You have expressed what I have not felt safe to feel or express without risk of abandonment. In fact, for example, I didn’t think I had rage inside me or loneliness or sadness, etc. I have unconsciously tried to take care of myself by giving you what I wanted.
For many of our types, it seems selfish to think we should try to meet our own needs. I am beginning to see that for me, in doing so, I will be lifting a burden off others like you—for starters.
Moving closer to the real thing.
__________ Enneagram Monthly, Issue 10, December 1995
This is a letter of apology to those of you who I thought needed my love, wisdom, advice, help, etc. Please forgive the arrogance of my thinking that I knew what you needed. I didn’t consciously manipulate you, I thought what I was feeling was sincere.
It is only now, after years of painful repetitions, grace, gentle therapy, and the wisdom of the Enneagram, that I dare look at the truth—how I was meeting my needs through you. I can now see what you all had in common that triggered my own compulsive behavior.
Many of you were an 8, 6, 4 or sister 2. Often we shared a common spiritual, philosophical or social ideal, but not always. Sometimes, this was where I thought you needed my guidance—ahh! Most of you had what I perceived as big energy, strength and intensity. You were lots less dependent on what others thought of you than I was. Often others found your behavior outrageous. I could be the one to understand and interpret you. Because people liked and trusted me, I could be useful to you in implementing your agenda, ie: starting schools, finding clients for your professional practice, etc. I could listen to your story over and over again. I could feel what you had missed as a child. Sometimes a spring of love would well up inside me, flow into all your empty spaces and fill me up. If you were in pain, I felt that pain in myself. I wanted to bring you into my circle of warmth. I didn’t want you to be out there alone anymore. I could sense what you needed me to be and I could become that.
As we connected, the energy surged in me. When I would feel a change in you—the doubting or hard to reach one, I was energized. In your needing me, I found my face. I was worth something and you would take care of me. I lived in your eyes. That’s where I went to find myself. If I looked there and I found trust and you still needed me, then I found my sense of well-being again. When that was gone, I felt panic and a desperate longing to fix it.
Inevitably, I was shocked by how much you really did need because I had thought you were the powerful one. I guess none of us are all that strong and independent behind those defenses. I felt overwhelmed, I couldn’t breathe. I felt controlled and manipulated. I had wanted you to see ME. Instead, I was trapped in who you needed me to be—not who I really was. I wanted to be free.
Some of you knew all along what was happening but danced anyway with your own projections. Sometimes we learned a lot from each other. I learned a lot about myself from you. I hope some of what came through me was genuine love and help.
You have expressed what I have not felt safe to feel or express without risk of abandonment. In fact, for example, I didn’t think I had rage inside me or loneliness or sadness, etc. I have unconsciously tried to take care of myself by giving you what I wanted.
For many of our types, it seems selfish to think we should try to meet our own needs. I am beginning to see that for me, in doing so, I will be lifting a burden off others like you—for starters.
Moving closer to the real thing.
__________ Enneagram Monthly, Issue 10, December 1995
