Christie Tate Quotes

I wept...for how deeply afraid I was that my life would never truly change or, worse, that true change would ask more of me than I could give.

If you can't say no in relationships, then you can't be intimate

If you're serious about getting into intimate relationships - becoming a real person, as you said - you need to feel every feeling you've been stifling since you were a kid. The loneliness, the anxiety, the anger, the terror.

I can be mad at you and still love you, you know.” No, actually, I didn’t know that. I had no idea.

That was how I'd always imagined the surface of my heart -- smooth, slick, unattached. Nothing to grab on to. Unscored. No one could attach to me once the inevitable heat of life bore down.

That was how I’d always imagined the surface of my heart—smooth, slick, unattached. Nothing to grab on to. Unscored. No one could attach to me once the inevitable heat of life bore down. I suspected the metaphor went deeper still—that I was afraid of marring my heart with the scoring that arose naturally between people, the inevitable bumping against other people’s desires, demands, pettiness, preferences, and all the quotidian negotiations that made up a relationship. Scoring was required for attachment, and my heart lacked the grooves.

When you agree to keep someone’s secret, you hold their shame.

I released a secret, not caring who in my family. might abandon me, because I finally understood that keeping the secret was an act of abandoning myself.

business. I released a secret, not caring who in my family might abandon me, because I finally understood that keeping the secret was an act of abandoning myself.

I recognized the familiar feeling of warmth and safety that settled after the rush of emotional risk.

When was the last time you told someone that you weren’t ready for what they were asking you to do?

something gentler. I took a deep breath. Was I going to drown in despair or was I willing to ask for what I needed?

Being first in my class made me a workhorse who desperately wanted achievements with which to wallpaper over the holes in her personal life, not brilliant.

didn’t yet know that therapy, like writing, relied on detail and specificity.

my terror about other people’s anger was yet another stumbling block to intimacy.

If you can’t say no in relationships, then you can’t be intimate,” Dr. Rosen said. “Say that again.” I held still so that each word would seep inside me, past my skin and muscle, and settle in my bones. “If you can’t say no, there can be no intimacy.” People said no to me all the time, and I still loved them.

We’re trying to figure women out,” he explained. “What, in your opinion, would be the best Valentine’s Day present ever?” “We’re easy to please, any small detail will do,” Tate said. The collective male snort was loud. “It’s true,” Christy added coming out in her defence. “Yeah right. Any small detail will do, my ass,” Max began. “Let’s put it this way: what do my poor bros have to do for Valentine’s Day so that their Steak and BJ Day in a month will be memorable and won’t degrade into a handy and a hamburger?

Si no sabes decir que no en tus relaciones, no puedes tener intimidad —manifestó el doctor Rosen—. Repítelo

Cuando seas capaz de tolerar ese miedo y dejes de intentar arreglar su ira, estarás lista para tener una relación íntima.

That was how I’d always imagined the surface of my heart—smooth, slick, unattached. Nothing to grab on to. Unscored. No one could attach to me once the inevitable heat of life bore down.

need. Impulses to do anything to keep other people from feeling angry at me. I still need help overriding those impulses. I need help figuring out what two-syllable word best describes my feelings. Telling the truth of my desire, even when I’m ashamed of it. Tolerating other people’s intense feelings. Tolerating my own.

His smile made me feel cozy,

I wasn't in the habit of saying no. If I went around saying no, then they'd be mad at me. Disappointed. Unhappy. I couldn't tolerate that. That kind of audacity belonged to other people like guys and hot women with no emotional baggage.

If you can't say no in relationships, then you can't be intimate.

Yes was who I thought I was supposed to be as a girlfriend, friend, employee. A girl, and then a woman, in the world.

If you can’t say no in relationships, then you can’t be intimate,

She held my hand across the table, and I did the holiest thing of all: I shut the fuck up.

I released a secret, not caring who in my family might abandon me, because I finally understood that keeping the secret was an act of abandoning myself.

Maybe I don't want my secrets all over your group grapevine. Why not? You don't get why I want privacy? (There were zero expressions of outrage on the faces staring back at me.) You might want to look at why you're so invested in privacy. Isn't it standard practice? It might be, but keeping secrets for other people is more toxic than other people knowing your business. Holding on to secrets is a way to hold shame that doesn't belong to you.

My parents firmly believed that I could make up my mind to be happy. I understand now that they were offering me the tools they relied on: willpower, optimism, and self-reliance. But those tools kept slipping out of my grasp, so I reached for the more reliable bingeing and purging to tamp down the emotions trying to surface. My parents and I wanted the same thing: for me to be normal. I longed for a "normal me" more than they did, but none of us understood that I wasn't "moping" and that the attempts to stuff my feeling might come at a high cost. I also heard an implied request that I bury Hawaii and all its terrifying images. Beneath my parents' request thrummed a subtext: Don't think about it, or you'll get upset. Don't get upset, or you'll fall behind on the important work of being a normal teenage girl. Don't talk about it, or you'll upset yourself. Don't talk about it, or you'll upset me. I wanted to be a dutiful daughter, so I buried it the best I could.

If you can’t say no in relationships, then you can’t be intimate,” Dr. Rosen said. “Say that again.” I held still so that each word would seep inside me, past my skin and muscle, and settle in my bones. “If you can’t say no, there can be no intimacy.” People said no to me all the time, and I still loved them. Is this what people were learning in high school when I was bingeing on Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies and making mixtapes with Lionel Richie and Whitney Houston songs?

I had a master’s degree I wasn’t using and a boyfriend I wasn’t fucking.