‘These people do not define you.’
Oh.
‘These people are purely a figment of your past and the only point in time that matters, is this one right now. So, for this task, I’m going to ask you to tell these tales for the last time. I want you to work in pairs for this exercise, preferably someone you feel comfortable with.’
There’s a buzz of anticipation as people get themselves into pairs. Will and I just nod at each other without the need to ask. Usually, I feel anxious about these kinds of things, worrying that no one will want to pair up with me, like being picked last in gym class. I glance around, hoping that no one else is feeling this way and see Nish looking in my direction. I gesture that I’m pairing up with Will and he looks wounded, but thankfully he’s sat beside Meg who can offer him distracting cleavage.
After a brief pause for seat switching, Anna asks us to tell our tales.
‘Take turns getting everyone and everything out of your system but do not reply, question or attempt to comfort the other person – doing this will only legitimise their belief that they are the victim. There are no victims here. It’s very hard to change something you feel you have no power over. Take back the power. Accept responsibility. By the end of this exercise, you will leave your sad stories at the door and start creating new ones.’
A sea of faces turn to each other and say… absolutely nothing. The only sounds are a few nervous giggles and stifled coughs. Anna stops striding and places her hands on her hips.
‘Did y’all come on a bootcamp expecting it to be easy? I’m sorry, people, but you’re going to have to dig deep here. Be brave. Bare your soul! Y’all came here for a reason, let’s do this!’
For the first time, Anna sounds like a bootcamp drill instructor instead of a salesperson and very slowly, people begin telling their tales. Will throws me some side-eyes as we both remain spectators at this event.
‘You want to start?’ I ask him, knowing that his answer will be no or an expletive to the same effect but I’m persistent. ‘Go on. What made you the bundle of joy you are today?’
‘I’m not doing this,’ he replies. ‘I don’t get paid enough to tell strangers my innermost secrets.’
‘But we’re best friends now!’ I tease. ‘Remember? We are the poster couple for bootcamp. The clicking twins, the—’
‘Still no.’
‘Meh. Worth a try.’
He turns to face me, resting his arm on the back of the seat. ‘Feel free to share with me, though. I am here for you, Nora.’
‘Uh-uh. Nope. You think I’m going to tell a journo my secrets—’
‘Shh!’ He glances around nervously. ‘I told you I wouldn’t write about you.’
‘Whatever. I’m not sharing anything intimate unless you do.’ I cross my arms like a petulant child. ‘Let’s see how long it takes for Anna to yell at us. We might get asked to leave! You’re already on thin ice for your meditation napping.’
‘Attemptedmeditation napping, and fine – one thing each but no bullshit. You first.’
I agree, moving my chair around to face away from everyone in case they’re all expert lip readers. Thankfully they’re all knee deep in self-despair.
‘My dad died when I was ten. Heart attack. That was the last time I had a positive male role model in my life.’
He frowns. ‘Sorry to—’
‘No comments or questions, remember?’
‘OK. My dad died a few years back too. Mum still lives in Edinburgh.’
I wait for the rest of the admission. ‘And?’
‘Nothing. That’s it.’
‘Seriously?
‘Fine, OK. After my dad died, I found out he’d been cheating on my mum for years. She never knew… still doesn’t. That really messed with my head. She’s a kind woman, you know and now I’m left carrying his dirty little secret. He was careless with people, so I try very hard to be a good man but…’
‘You don’t think you are?’
‘I do believe that’s a question.’
