An Unexpected Friend

I decided to read Eat, Pray, Love again.
Now I say again, when actually what I mean is I picked it up again and started all over. I don't believe I ever finished the "Love" section in Bali. I believe I first started the book in my senior year of college, and for whatever reason, set it back down. I don't think I quit 2/3 of the way through because it was uninteresting. Life interceded. I lost track of it, like sometimes I lose track of myself. It sounds hokey to say I wasn't ready for its lesson, but maybe I wasn't. Whatever happened, I left it, and forgot most of the contents as time went by. This made it even less motivating to pick it up again and finish.
I remember thinking Elizabeth Gilbert was extremely well-spoken, as you might expect someone to be who made their living off words. But I'm not entirely sure that's true of all writers. In fact, I love to write but I'm not sure I'm as good in the spoken word. Something to work on I guess. She had been interviewed and interspersed on a 3-part PBS documentary about emotions that I remember I found very comforting, touching, and confronting. Something that lit my soul up, but now for whatever reason, I can't remember why. As I write this I realize I should watch it again.
And so like any white girl in crisis perusing her bookshelf of unread classics, I picked up the book.
Maybe it's too cliche, and maybe I'm not about to embark on a year long journey to find myself, but I can already see from the first few pages that I connect with her. I love to travel, I worry too much, I'm something between a knotted ball of yarn and fiery explosion of emotion, I let men govern my emotions, and I need to start doing things because I want to do them.
There are plenty of things I want to do. I want to learn Chinese, but I'm so intimidated by the symbols and sounds I can hardly grasp it. I want to learn German, just so I can travel to a beautiful land from whence my ancestors came and relish in the snow covered stand in the Christmas market. I want to read, read, read, and feel the gentle, painful understanding wash over me. I want to feel the humanity of my life. And while I proclaim no spirituality, I want to have a better sense of self.
"We should chat."
It wasn't until after I left and spent many hours contemplating his words that I saw the truth in them. It was like someone had held up a mirror to my face and said, "Look, this is why you do these things." And even though it was so simple, my decisions came into a little sharper focus. Like the microscope in my life had made that extra turn to allow me to see life as it was happening.
When I was younger and boys were not exactly and option (I was shy and awkward and you know, young) my primary source of validation was school. Good grades meant acknowledgement from teachers and high praise from my parents. I excelled at being the perfect child. As that slowly became less of who I was, I directed this behavior at the opposite sex. I'm not sure when exactly it started. However, it was probably around the time the first time someone told me they loved me. And alternatively, after riding this emotional high out, the first time they took the words back.
Or maybe, it was right before that, the first time a boy spent an appreciable amount of time showering me with attention.
Either way, I became addicted to this source of validation. Pair that with somewhat poor impulse control, and you have a lovely cocktail of emotion.
I've been thinking about the words to say this for a few days and struggling. But as they do, I understand myself a little bit better.
So how do you start on the road to recovery?
I'm not sure. I could travel, but I'm not sure I'm yet ready to face that challenge. But I am ready to make decisions based on myself. Just to return to myself, which I hope will return some harmony to the universe as I will no longer be in strife with myself and others. Do I still need people? Of course I do. But perhaps I can find a little bit more of myself without them.