Little Matches

I can’t promise there will always be a metaphor, but since I secretly (?) love Rules, I can’t promise there won’t be.

Today I was talking to a friend on the phone and she said, “I’m having trouble with my family. When I’m with them, I just go back to being the person I was when I lived with them twenty years ago.”

I said, “Oooooh yeah. It’s like everybody on the planet has a locker with a combination lock on it. You’re allowed to give certain people your locker combo if you want — friends, partners, lovers, kids — and sure, sometimes you regret giving it to some asshead or other, but them’s just the breaks. You just learn. But your family just HAS YOUR NUMBER. They can rummage through your locker whenever they happen to be passing by. They can steal your best pen, read your notes, eat your snacks, take your vending machine money. Maybe it’s time you got a new combination lock? That way you can lend them a pen if you want — but, like, the pen YOU want to give them.”

My friend said, “Oh, that’s a great idea — I should get a new combo lock!”

So maybe this isn’t my best metaphor — I realize, this is a gross simplification of the kind of work it takes to create lasting, healthy boundaries with the people you grew up with. But I come up with an average of seven metaphors a month, and they help me get through frustrating moments — sometimes an image will last me a day, sometimes a whole week. I think the purpose of a metaphor is to create enough light to take the next step in the dark.

And have you noticed the darkness lately? It’s pitch black and hot and frightening out here. But like Frida Kahlo (possibly?) said, “I think that little by little I’ll be able to solve my problems and survive.” I’ll just keep lighting little metaphors like matches and throwing them out in front of me.

Maybe you can find one you like.