Back when I was an early blogger, I got a superfan. I think her trauma was responding to my trauma.
I’d just gotten divorced and had moved from Minneapolis to Philadelphia when she’d sent me a long snail mail letter pouring out her entire life story. To me, she was a stranger, but to her, we were close friends. I never replied. I thought she was unhinged. I couldn’t trust someone who would trust me—a total mess—that much.
I’d already spent most of my life in a brace position against the world and everyone in it, but even more so at that time.
Today, I’m still learning how to walk through the world with open hands, allowing someone to take hold of one.
This is much scarier than approaching life strategically: “If I do X, then I’ll get Y,” even though those strategies are stupid and never work.