Who Would I Be Without My Pain?

I've wanted to write a blog post with this title for a long time. It's a question I think of often.  It hit me again this morning.

My five-year-old was telling me something about going left then going right.  I was surprised that he had figured out left vs. right.  It's something we worked on for, oh maybe, 10 seconds a few weeks ago, before getting distracted with something else.  I had tried to teach him the "your left hand makes an L when you hold it up" trick, and it really didn't seem to sink in.  Maybe because he hasn't fully figured out phonics yet.  Anyway. He seemed to have directions totally nailed this morning! I tested him on it, and he did it correctly!  So I asked him, because I wanted to know how he had managed to figure this out.  "How do you know which is your left side and which is your right side?"

"I just remember that the left side is the one where my tooth hurt," he said, pointing to his left cheek.

I was stunned.

Last year he went through a period of bad tooth pain. One of his back molars was rotting before our eyes, even though we did everything "right"--brushed every day, not too much candy, no juice, etc.  We have wretched dentists in this town (at least the ones that took state-covered insurance anyway), and they were of no help whatsoever. So I did some research, and put him on a diet that kept his blood sugar stable, and began supplementing with cod liver oil and grass-fed butter. His tooth pain died down, and the rot progression stopped. Yay!

However, he still remembers the pain. And he has started orienting his life, in a very literal way, around the memory of that pain.

I'm studying instructional design, and part of the process is learning about how Learning works.  One of the best theories we have for Learning is the "schema" idea. Basically, every bit of knowledge that we know is connected to other bits of knowledge. Triggering one idea can bring up an entire network of ideas.  Schemas help us make sense of extremely complex ideas and situations by forming quick representations of them.

But schemas are built, one little bit at a time.

It made me emotional to think that my son's schema for what "left and right" are is built on a memory of pain. Eventually, pretty soon, he'll understand the concept of "left and right" without relying on that scaffolding device (the memory of his tooth pain), but if he ever forgets and needs to dig down deep, that's the place his brain will take him.  "Left is the side where my tooth hurt."  His bout with tooth pain is part of his life, his way of orienting to the world, his identity.

In this example, I think the damage is pretty minimal.  I don't see any other signs that he has been too terribly scarred by the battle we had with tooth pain last year.  What about other wounds, though?  Is he building his identity around the idea of not having a normal dad? (Or a normal mom, for that matter!)

What about the children who go through terrible, traumatizing experiences? How much of their schemas are built by referencing memories of awful abuse, war scenes, hunger, or life-threatening disease?  They will not build schemas the same as normal children, because they simply can't.  What has been handed to them is what their brains are working with. If could remove those reference points, would they be able to know the difference between left and right?  What if trying to "heal" them of their pain would have the effect of destroying their ability to make some kind of sense of the world?  Yes, the brain is plastic, but it takes an awfully long time to retrain even simple schema, how much more an entire brain.

So often I wonder. Pain is awful. I want it to go away.  But what are the side effects of its absence?  What would happen if I could magically make my pain go away? What in my life have I built around my pain, and the memories thereof, that would become hollow or confused if I could erase the pain?  Like a game of Jenga--which blocks would make the entire tower topple over if they were removed, and which ones are safer to remove?

The myth of the Whole Person

When you're single you get a lot of conflicting messages from society.  The messages are mostly subtle, unspoken. One of the most common messages, though, is not so subtle. You see it everywhere.

It's about being a "whole person."

The commonly doled out advice goes along the lines of "Don't look for a relationship to complete you. Learn to realize you are already complete in and of yourself!"
Or it might come across something like: "When you stop looking for a relationship, that's when you'll find it!"

It sounds so healthy, so wise.

I think it's bullcrap.  Here's why.

First of all, it assumes that each of us should be a "whole person."  What does that even mean? I take it to mean "self sufficient."  Your value lies in your own personhood, and you don't need anyone else to make you happy.  But this is ridiculous.

From a social sciences perspective-- Nobody is truly self-sufficient.  We are all part of a huge web of interdependence. Let's bring this down to a very basic level. Nobody would chide someone about trying to be a "whole person in and of yourself" because they go to the grocery store to buy groceries, instead of growing all their own food.  "Why can't you be happy with what you produce by yourself, Jane Doe? Why are you relying on other people's food to meet your needs and make you happy?"

How about a step higher on Mazlow's hierarchy? (I'm not sure how much stock I actually put in that way of characterizing human behavior, but we'll go with it for today's post, for the sake of making a point.)

Above biological needs are safety needs.  Are we, each of us individually, to try to be completely self-sufficient when it comes to safety? Are we somehow lacking in maturity, because we rely on other people, (say, the police department, for one example), to keep us safe sometimes?  Of course not.  Could we be happy if we tried to rely on our own "wholeness" and didn't have the comfort of knowing there's somebody, or a group of somebodies, keeping us safe?  Probably not very.

Romantic relationships could be put neatly into the third category, directly above safety needs.  Why, all of a sudden, at this point, are we supposed to be self-sufficient and self-complete in this category, when it's so obvious that we need the help of fellow humans to meet our needs in the first two categories?

From a psychological standpoint-- Is there even such a thing as a "whole person?"  All of us have strengths and weaknesses.  Some of us are good at managing groups of people, some of us are good with children, some of us are good at speaking our mind boldly, some of us are good at diffusing tense situations... the list goes on.  Nobody can be good at everything.  All of us are bad at something.

But life throws lots of things at any one person, and many of those things lie outside of that person's preferred skill-set.  When things happen to me that I am just not very good at handling, it's normal, healthy, mature, and wise, for me to ask someone else--who's good at that thing-- to help me.

Why is it somehow unhealthy for me to recognize that it would be great to have a long-term life partner who is better at dealing with social situations than I am (for example)?  Or to realize that I'm generally so freaking intense, having someone around who can lighten the mood would be good for my health?  Where is the line drawn between an unhealthy obsession, and an objective understanding that finding a quality life partner is a very reasonable, mature, and desirable goal?

From a purely practical standpoint-- Having someone around can be very useful.  I can hang a shelf on the wall by myself if I absolutely have to, but how much easier to have an extra set of hands?  I look forward to the day, for example, when I can briefly leave the kids with a responsible adult so I can go take a "quick" errand.  (Right now, no errand is ever "quick." I have to tear the kids away from whatever they're doing, make sure they have shoes and acceptable clothes on, strap them into the car seats, keep them from getting into trouble wherever we end up going, and do the whole thing again to go back home.)  Heck, many studies even point to the possibility that people in committed long-term life partnerships are healthier and live longer than those who aren't, as a general rule.  (There are always many exceptions, of course.)

Relationships are a need.  A basic human need.  We are social animals, and for millenia our very survival has depended upon our ability to stick together.  It is not wrong or unhealthy to want a relationship.

I get that some people become a bit desperate, and can allow their desperation to blind them and drive them to making unhealthy choices.  I get that there's a thing called co-dependence (though I think, like ADHD, it is rather over-prescribed...)  These people need our support, MORE relationship, not our condemnation and withdrawal.  They need help in lessening their loneliness, not accusations that they are supposed to be complete, and what the heck is wrong with them for not being complete?

It is such a hypocritical thing to say. If you really think you are a complete person in and of yourself, then go prove it.  That means no relying on anyone for anything. No more going to the grocery store or living in a house that somebody else built.

And of course, I'm not trying to say that relationships aren't difficult, exhausting, time-consuming, and problematic, themselves. They are.  And many of them fail and cause great suffering.  Overall, though, if both parties are mature and committed to working through the problems, I think I am well supported in my opinion that the pros outweigh the cons.

My overall point, though, is to challenge this individualistic assumption that we should all be self-complete.  How narcissistic!

Self worth and my heart

His milieu intoxicated me almost as much as he, himself, intoxicated me. Part of his incredible draw was the promise of being part of the environment, mindset, family dynamics, and politics with which he was surrounded. The inputs that contributed to his identity, and the ways he interacted with them.

Is his identity better than mine? By being around him, did I hope to exalt myself to being as awesome as I thought he was? In other words, was I, at least partially, envisioning the relationship as a vassal-noble kind of dynamic, with myself as a floundering commoner, and him as a powerful person of high status--able to lift me from my position by means of his influence and resources?  Is he simply cut from a different, finer, cloth than I am? 

Perhaps wanting so much to be part of a system I perceived as better than my own system reflects an unhealthy self-image?

Or maybe my eagerness was more of a symptom of feeling powerless to change the components of my own system that I really really really want to change. Part of me violently rejects being disqualified as anyone less than an equal human with anyone else. I've had fewer opportunities than he has, that's all. I know I am just as smart, just as responsible, just as refined as he is. ...I just also know I'll need a little help to transform the aspects of my life that I'm not satisfied with. 

Whatever the cause of today's resurgence of pain, an image has flooded my awareness. I feel the sensation of my heart as if it were located a couple inches outside of my chest. It is heaving like a dying animal struggling for each next breath. Bent over like an old peasant woman never in her life allowed her own choices. Twinging with pain all over, like a burn victim. 

I place my hands around my heart, willing them to form a cool oasis to minister to this suffering creature. Be strong, I urge. This season will pass. A new vision will emerge that you can beat for. The time will come when you shine in such refracted rainbow brilliance, that all your enemies will be ashamed of their petty judgements and reckless rejections of the life you work diligently to infuse. Deceit will no longer haunt you. You will love who and where you are, and the trust you place in those who partner with you will be well deserved.

Believe this until you heal, I whisper. Believe it until it comes true.

It goes to prove, you never know what to expect from me...

Messing up a brownie recipe is a
batch botch.

A cranky woman who messes up a brownie recipe is a
batch botching bitch.

An unfeminine, cranky woman who messes up a brownie recipe is a
batch botching butch bitch.

Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all night.

Critiques of Word of Faith

A friend of mine asked me what I thought of this article by Eric Hyde, about why Word of Faith Christians become jaded, since I came from the Word of Faith movement, myself:
http://ehyde.wordpress.com/2013/06/04/why-do-word-of-faith-christians-become-jaded/
His article, in summary says the following:
Mr. Hyde has had a lot of experience with Word of Faith Christians, and has recently noticed a large number of them abandoning Christianity, becoming jaded, or switching to a different denomination. He defines the Word of Faith movement in a way that I think is slightly unfair, but overall gets the gist of it. He posits a few reasons why he thinks so many Word of Faith Christians end up leaving the movement.
1) "Words words words" There is too much an emphasis on the right confessions, and not on the right actions.
2) "Faith + Grace – Works = Victory!" [I didn't actually understand what he was trying to say in this point.] I think he's trying to say that the movement teaches that the relationship between God and the believer is presented as entirely passive, with the believer only receiving God's blessings and not required to do anything to express love back to God.
3) "Abundance, Good; Lack, Bad" This point was actually two points.  First, the Word of Faith people do not have a satisfactory answer to the theodicy conundrum. And second, the WoF's emphasis on a very shallow definition of "good", meaning what *I* the believer think is good, resembles and encourages the selfish consumerism so prevalent in our society.


My response is probably a bit disappointing, because while I no longer identify as a Word of Faith-ist (let's just say WOFist for short), I do disagree with Mr. Hyde on several of his points.

Before I articulate my disagreements (and some agreements) with this article, I think it's an important reminder that the official small-o orthodoxy of any religious sect is often dissonant with that sect's overall praxis. What is taught from the pulpits is often quite different from what is lived and accepted on the streets.  (For an obvious example, take Catholics and birth control...) Myself, I've always been somewhat more inclined towards logos than populos; with figuring out the "right" beliefs more than conforming to social norms.  I have always found it easy to step into the role of Pharisee, being very concerned about the correct interpretation of Scripture, and wanting myself and others to conform to [my understanding of] that.  So when I was in WoF, I was trying to get to the bottom of what the "true" teachings were, while it seems that Mr. Hyde is much more in-touch than I ever have been with the popular outworkings of the Word of Faith movement. Perhaps any disagreements between us arise from that difference in approach.

That said, another introductory point is that even though the Word of Faith movement is a pretty small slice of Christianity, it is not really a homogenous movement with a single identifiable creed.  It is not a denomination.  Like most other Christian fundamentalists, any WOFist worth his/her salt will insist that his/her only source of authority is The Word of God (which means a combination of the Bible --oh, and that his/her understanding of it is the correct one--and the internal voice of the Holy Spirit), and s/he won't be bossed around by formal denominations and the "traditions of men."  Each Word of Faith church creates its own "statement of faith" and repertoire of rhetoric with varying emphases and understandings of theological points.  That is what it means to be a non-denominational church. You get to decide what you (officially) believe and don't believe. Because of this heterogeneity in the Word of Faith movement, I wouldn't be surprised to find out that there are a lot of really strange things being (whether officially or unconsciously) taught at some WoF churches out there.

Therefore, it is hard to say when someone's behavior is in conformity with the movement's official creed or not, because there is no official creed. But some issues Mr. Hyde described seem (to me) to be based on incomplete or inaccurate understandings of the teachings of those I would consider generally accepted leaders in the WoF movement.

The story he told of the man who wouldn't change his diet or exercise, yet wanted to claim victory over his health and weight problems, is certainly disturbing.  But the churches I personally went to growing up did not teach such a dramatic dichotomy between spiritual and physical efforts, and I don't think Joyce Meyers or Kenneth Hagan, (to name a couple examples), would condone such irresponsibility.  On the contrary, I was often told the Scripture, "faith without works is dead" is very important.  If you want to see your victory, you have to go out and act on your faith.

I was taught that God established physical laws in the universe, and as humans we don't have authority to go breaking those laws willy-nilly. If we needed a miracle for an extreme situation, we could "claim" it. But we couldn't go jumping off cliffs for fun and expect to command the law of gravity to change on our behalf.  The authority I was told I had was authority over the devil and over my flesh.  In the obese man example, I think that the people at the churches I grew up in would have prescribed taking authority over any demons that were keeping him in bondage to his appetite, and only then moving on to taking authority over the sicknesses that plagued him due to obesity.

That said, I HAVE seen several obese preachers in churches that could be described as being in the WoF camp.  So again, there's that heterogeneity in the WoF movement...

As far as the point about the God-to-Believer relationship being entirely one-sided, with God doing all the loving, and the Believer doing all the receiving, I don't think that is a fair representation of the WoF's "orthodoxy" either.  Many WoF teachers do teach a lot about love, both for other humans and for God.  Their understanding of the term might be different from how I would understand it, but I don't think the image of the Believer as a merely passive receiver of God's love is accurate. If people are getting jaded in the WoF because they feel bored and passionless, well, it's not from a lack of information out there about how WoF-ists understand the relationship between grace, salvation, love, and works.

The third point, though, is indeed a good one.  Of all the flavors of Christianity, the Word of Faith may be the least equipped to grapple with the complex problem of evil.  Their worldview is a sharp dualism.  God is only good, all bad comes from the devil and humans.  Free will is the ONLY explanatory factor as to why evil exists, and if tragedy strikes someone, the only reason is the victim's lack of faith in taking authority over the demons that caused it to happen.  I can certainly see such victim-blaming as being desperately harmful to people and causing cynicism or anger to set in, and compelling people to leave the movement.

To be fair, there is no philosophical approach that can answer the problem of evil without some logical flaws, or having to insert a glaring "I don't know" somewhere into the argument. It is a complex problem, one that humanity has been attempting to solve for millenia.  (I've probably recommended this before, but I'll do it again, it's such a good book.  Evil: The Shadow Side of Reality, by John A. Sanford, is a great overview of the problem of evil and the various approaches in trying to solve it throughout history.)  But the WoF, with its insistent positivism, is particularly weak in this area.  When they do get results, it's great. I've seen real miracles.  But for those for whom the mind-over-matter techniques don't work, the "why's" and the inherent shame in making it all the victim's fault can be psychologically devastating.

The fourth point, too, is compelling.  For those of us who are alarmed at the selfish, pampered, unsustainable, callous, and myopic lifestyles of materialism that define so much of current American society, the WoF movement's emphasis on prosperity does not seem to be the right prescription.  Again, different churches will take the prosperity message to different lengths.  But I've heard a preacher talk about how he will know he has achieved a breakthrough in his faith when he finally is able to manifest a private jet. And he wasn't joking.  And this wasn't a small church.  His message was being broadcast and published to people all over the country.  The message that you are not walking in faith if you are not financially wealthy is dangerous in so many ways.  I think this extremism is a valid reason for getting disgusted and fed up with the WoF movement.

Contrary to what Mr. Hyde says, this author said (in 1999) that the Word of Faith movement is the fastest-growing religious movement in America.  I do not know how to validate who is right, or if perhaps that was was the case in 1999, but now there is a decline.  I do know that I left it for emotional, theological, and intellectual reasons, and I won't go back.

Helping people

Back in the day
Medicine woman: "The ancestors have long used a tea from this plant to help ward off evil spirits that attack at night. Drink it at sunset, and it will protect you."
Result: The patient can fall asleep better and get better rest.

Today
Doctor: "Serotonin levels drop when the sun starts to go down, and then, normally, your body increases melatonin production to bring itself to sleep. When serotonin levels drop, though, it can trigger anxiety and overarousal. This drug will increase your serotonin levels and help you manufacture melatonin more efficiently. Take one pill every night shortly before going to bed, and you'll start to feel better."
Result: The patient can fall asleep better and get better rest.

More dialogue

I think I'm making progress.

Letting Go, Take 4.

[I walk into the coffee shop, see him sitting at the table working, and stroll over to his table.  I sit down, snapping him out of his work.]

****STOP THE TAPE****

I'm just realizing how mean that would be, sneaking up on someone and shocking them, from left field, with an intense conversation.  I'm going to envision instead that I have contacted him in advance to arrange this meeting.  Much more ethical approach. 

****OK.  Back to the conversation.****

Me:  Hey.  Thanks for agreeing to meet me. How are you?
Ex:  Hey.  I'm OK.  How's it going for you?
Me: Fine, I guess.  Pushing through my school work these days, mostly. I'm not too satisfied with the quality of education I'm getting, but I guess that's the deal--you get what you pay for, and I chose a cheap school.
Ex:  Yeah. Life can work that way.
Me:  Ironically, though, since I really am eager to learn, I've enrolled in a few free courses through iTunes U and other sources of open-access courses, and that has been mostly a good experience.  The quality is often higher than what I'm getting at [my university's name], go figure.  I'm not getting credit for the free courses, but they are making me sharper.
Ex:  Good for you, for taking your education into your own hands! I admire how ambitious you are.
Me:  Thanks. You know how to make a girl feel good!
[We both suddenly realize the awkward accidental double entendre there, and look away from each other, briefly embarrassed, trying not to grin.]
Me: (hurriedly)  Well, this whole discovery of iTunes U has made me curious about how Open Source works.  So, fittingly, I found a free course about Open Source! The history, the various models of communication, business models, and so on. It's been really fascinating!  And it's very pertinent to the field I'm going into. 
(my voice drops a bit.)  God, though, [his name], it reminds me of you, and it has really made me ache to talk with you again.  I want it so much, [his name], that my chest actually literally hurts when I think about it.  You always had such informed and insightful perspectives on these kinds of things.  Do you realize how much I loved communicating with you?  Really loved it.  You challenged me, you gave me an outlet for my thoughts, you irritated me, confused me, amused me, the whole nine yards.  And some of our conversations were truly life-changing for me in a dramatic way.  As in -- you were instrumental in helping me leave my religion, for example -- THAT life-changing.  I wanted you to know that... I guess... How much you made a difference in my life.
Ex: (looking down) Mmm... Thanks for letting me know.  I appreciate your candor.
(I sense he is tense, as if there's something on his mind that he isn't able to express. He shifts in his seat too much, rubs his hands through his hair too often...)
Me: So... (I lean in a bit, and my hands are knotted so tightly on the table that my knuckles are white.) The last communication you got from me was abruptly dismissive...  I guess I was kind of a bitch.
Ex: Well, deservedly so.  I mean, no, you weren't a bitch-- you were just upset. When I sent you the news about [the other woman]'s pregnancy, I pretty much expected something along the lines of what I got.  Not really surprising.
Me: Knowing me like you do, what do you think my reaction has been since that email?  What do you think has been on my mind the past several months, regarding... "us"... this situation?
Ex: Ummm... How could I know? I've been so overwhelmed, myself, I can't picture what you've been going through. I kind of figured you'd just move on, I guess?
Me: I'll tell you.  Even though I have felt a huge personal sense of loss and grief at what happened, and even though I have a lot of seriously stressful things happening in my own life, most of my conscious thoughts about this situation have been worries about how you're doing.  How you're coping, how you feel, whether you're becoming an alcoholic or not, whether you're getting into your new "daddy" role comfortably or not, how your family is doing, and so on.  Does that surprise you?
Ex: It's nice of you to care so much.
Me: (gently) Do you see the pattern here, [his name]?  I go too far into the side of caring about what others think, and in my opinion you go too far into the side of thinking only of yourself.
Ex: (somewhat strained) That might be something close to a fair analysis.  I don't think it's always true, though.
Me: Oh I'm sure it's not.  [His name], I'll be direct. Losing you has been one of the saddest events of my life, seriously. You're a great person.  You're so smart, strong, talented, hard-working, interesting, just an incredible human being.  I'm losing a lot by losing you.  But here's an obvious rhetorical question:  How, do you think, do I even know what I'm losing?  I know it because I've thought about you.  Studied and analyzed you.  Stalked you online. (uneasy laugh)  Made considerable efforts to connect with you.
You know what?  I'm a great person too.  But I don't think you realize what you lost when you set me aside. I don't feel like you did any diligence in trying to learn who I was beyond some shallow observations of my life and personality. That's how I feel. And that's what hurts.  I feel like I have been quickly glanced over, like a cheap glass vase at a pawn shop. "Oh that's pretty," and then set back on the shelf.  And I was never selfish enough to demand that you look deeper. I always just gave and gave and gave to you.  That was my attempt to get your attention.  But in the end, I think you felt superior to me, based on some external factors, but didn't consider that there are other aspects of my life experience that could compensate for areas where I'm not at your level.
That's the story I'm understanding, at least.  Is that accurate?
Ex: No... yeah... no...  I mean... It's not like I didn't notice anything about you... You're making it sound like... (He is uncomfortable and keeps trailing off.  The dilemma here is that if he confirms what I said, it would be rude, admitting that one feels superior to someone else, for example. But if what I said is true, then it would be lying to contradict it for the sake of politeness. And if it's false, it requires him to be very vulnerable in sharing some very personal feelings.)
Me: Look, I know this is hard.  I mostly just wanted to share my feelings, get it off my chest. I know most people have a harder time being emotionally open than I do. One of my many talents. (forced laugh)  You don't have to disclose anything you don't want to, though.  I'm just here to TRY to make a better closure to our relationship than what I did last February.  I'd rather things ended peacefully.
Ex:  (long pause) It's a noble endeavor.
Me:  So... Because my opinion is that you could use some help in getting outside of your own head, I'm sharing a small slice of my pain with you.  Pain that you, for the most part, caused.  I'm not saying that my pain is greater or more important than your pain. I'm sure it's not, actually. I'm just asking if you can at least see it.
Ex: (whispered) Yeah, I can see it. (long pause) There's nothing I can say that really does this any justice except "I'm sorry."  Even that sounds cheap... (trails away)
Me: (looking at him sadly and steadily) I'm going to leave here today, and most likely, I will never see you or communicate with you again.  The finality of it punches me in the gut sometimes, even now.  I guess that must be what it's like with you and your mom too -- that finality, knowing you'll never be able to talk with her again.  It's hard. It's really hard.
Ex: Yep. (lips quivering) "That dark night" is pretty awful.
Me: I'm so sorry.  I really am.  I can't even begin to help you with those feelings.  With the "us" situation, however, I am trying to frame this metaphorical death in terms of transformation.  I definitely got a lot from my relationship with you.  And though I wish it could continue, it can't. But even this process of tearing apart can be a learning, transformative experience for me if I let it.  Sounds trite, doesn't it? I am trying to see this relationship in those terms... for my own life, at least...  I hope you can learn and grow through this as well.
Ex: (he is less composed than before, and misty-eyed. I'm pretty sure the last paragraph was only half-heard, and his mom was closer to his mind.) That's some good wisdom there.  I don't know how much of it I can be fully on-board with, philosophically, but... (voice cracks)
Me:  (softly)  Go ahead!  It's OK.  You're not less a man in my eyes for crying.  Quite the opposite. I'm surprised I haven't broken down yet, myself, honestly.
(His tears bring me to tears.  After a minute of the tears falling, we are able to take deep breaths and get back under control.)
Ex: That whole thing you said awhile ago about feeling like you were cheap... that's not true. Believe me.  I... I never knew what to expect from you. You were a bit intimidating that way, actually.  I liked that, though.  And I admired your fortitude. I don't think you're something to be passed over, and never have. I just... I am just... a wanderer.  Like you said, I'm stuck in my own head. I'm not very good at making plans or thinking too far down the road.  And I was too stressed out to be thinking clearly at all, I guess.  I'm... Ugh, this is a mess...
Me:  OK. Thanks.  I appreciate your honesty.  You don't have to say any more.  I don't need you to validate my worth. It's tempting. But I'm not here for that. I think I said my piece.
I'm going to go now.  It's really hard... It would be so easy to fall into a long conversation, but... you're taken now, and I don't think it's appropriate for me to be with you too long. I'm just going to have to leave you with your life and trust you to live it to the best of your ability without my help.  I guess it's a skill you modeled well for me.  (I pause, realizing that may have sounded caustic.) That's a good thing, right?  Boundaries.  Hey, it was good to see you again.
(We stand up, and hug for a long time, then I walk away).