I study psychology, I can change them
As a psychology student, I’ve trained myself to seek answers beneath the surface. I don’t take behaviour at face value; I turn it over, dissect it, and trace it back to origin stories that might explain why people are the way they are. I look for theory in their silence, for trauma in their cruelty, for pain in their betrayal. Every time someone hurts me, I feel a familiar ache rise, but it’s not just pain. It’s a question. A relentless, burning question: Why? Why would they say that? Why would they do that? What went wrong in the wiring, in the raising, in the living? I tell myself there has to be a reason. Maybe they didn’t mean to. Maybe they were projecting. Maybe they’ve never been loved the right way, and so they don’t know how to offer love in return. I search their actions for attachment styles, emotional dysregulation, and unresolved grief. I diagnose in the silence between texts. I theorise in the middle of the night when sleep won’t come. I tell myself that if I can just ...
