You dropped the bomb on me, baby.

Yo yo yo! I'm back, and have I got news for you, buddy boy (and girl). You are not special! Did you hear me? You. Are. Not. Special. And the sooner you realize that, the easier relationships will be. What? Did I hear you ask "Why Sarah, isn't everyone special?" Well as a matter of fact no. No one is special. Not you. Not me. Not your mom. Not your daughter. Not your brother. Not even that guy at the office that makes you feel a little dizzy when he walks by. We are all pretty much the same. Remind yourself of this when you look in the mirror and you think to yourself, "Self - you look very attractive today! Way to hang in there with those jump squats!" Instead, think to yourself , "Self, you are average. Average. And there is nothing wrong with average. Deal with it or be miserable forever."


And this, my friends, was the gist of my last therapy session. I walked out of the door in tears. Hot, angry, confused, frustrated, embarrassed tears.

Okay, I'll back up some. First of all, let me apologize for being a stranger. I've been busy making love. I mean shopping. Which is, in fact, my unhealthy substitute for the horizontal cha-cha. Which, in further fact, means I've sort of been getting more @$$ than a toilet seat. At any rate, I have been busy spending my new home buyers credit and involving myself in home-improvement projects. I have discovered that Sarah is a very creative girl! Custom crystal chandelier anyone?

So I'm spending money, and simultaneously mulling over what went wrong with my flirting strategy. Was it me? My methods? Was I going to the right places at the wrong times? Are there really just no available men in plain sight? I think the answer is all and none of the above. And I was discussing these dating difficulties with my therapist on Friday. I wanted to make it clear that I didn't think that the reason I wasn't having any luck was based on a belief that I wasn't good looking enough. It happens to be my opinion that I am pretty attractive. The older I get, the more comfortable I am in my skin. I like who I see in the mirror. Yes, my teeth are crooked, my butt is flat and I have mama tummy, but I see more pretty things in the mirror than I do un-pretty things. And, as anyone who has known me for very long can attest, that is something!

Meanwhile, back on the couch, I am winding out my session. I think we were talking about the importance of me expanding my social circle with both male and female acquaintances. Then, I was asked "Sarah, what if you aren't 'incredibly good looking?' What if you are actually just normal like everybody else?" Say what? "But I didn't --" "Oh, yes, you did. You called yourself attractive, and it isn't the first time. You have set up a scale with you up here and everybody else down here." "But I didn't - I don't think of myself as being better looking than anybody, I just mean that I don't think I'm a troll!" This gave even more evidence of my self appreciation. Me and John Edwards -- two peas in a pod.

We then partook in a small scale debate on the definition of special. According to the doctor, I am not special. No one is, in fact. So I should accept that I am just a normal person with normal looks and a normal personality and let go of the delusion that I am this extraordinarily beautiful, unique, 'special' woman who deserves something more extraordinary than plain ol' average people. Then I scheduled another appointment, laid my money on the table and walked out of the room with an "I'm fine, I swear" half smile on my face.

Now, if some of the events in this story were untrue, if the doctor had not gone to the trouble of actually looking up the definition of special in not 1, but 2 dictionaries, to prove her point that no one is special, or more blessed with certain qualities than anyone else, then I would have taken this admonishment to reflect on the idea that even if I didn't think that I was pretty, it wouldn't mean that I didn't deserve good love. That even if I were dull and boring, I would still deserve good love. Everyone deserves love. But instead, I heard her say that I had a somewhat narcissistic attitude that probably came through in my conversations and interactions with those around me, and that it was probably quite a turn off. She really said that. That's why I heard it.

It didn't hurt that my doctor doesn't think I'm a stunner. It hurt that she took my candid confession that I was pretty happy with my looks, added it to the fact that I have trouble meeting men and putting myself into social situations, and came up with a diagnoses of delusions of grandeur and conceit. I just don't feel like that fits. Maybe I'm wrong. If I am, let me know and I won't fire my therapist.

Now, in what may be my have been my last session with my heretofore esteemed therapist, I did come away with two very good homework assignments: 1) no impulsive or indulgent spending this month -- only groceries and necessary toiletries; and 2) get back on the internet dating wagon and ride like the wind! I am taking both of these assignments seriously because I feel them. It's time for big changes and bold actions on both of these fronts. It's time to get what I want instead of wrecking my finances trying to fill a round hole with a square peg. Shut up.