Dr. Nelson watches me for a second, processing the word vomit. She writes something down in her notebook before looking back up at me. “Do you miss it because they chose you?” I nod, tears fighting my eyes not to fall. “Why do you think that’s so important to you?”
“Because no one has chosen me just for me before,” I admit. Oh, shit. I’m going to cry right now. It’s my first session and I’m already about to bawl like a baby. Yet, I don’t want to stop talking. It feels too freeing. As if talking about it will take the pain away. “At the time, it felt like people were starting to really like me. Before I could even understand it, people have always taken one look at my family andtheirachievements and based me off that. I never got the chance to show my true talents or figure things out on my own. I thought that they started to realise I wasn’t as bad as everyone made me out to be and that they wanted me. Looking back, I know it was stupid because they didn’t want me. They just wanted what I could give them.”
“Do you think you still do that now – allowing people in because you’d prefer that they want something from you than nothing at all?”
I shake my head, wiping the tears with the back of my sweatshirt. “No, I’ve stopped doing that. I realised that what I need is people to like me for who I am and if they don’t – if they want more – then I don’t need them.”
“How do you manage relationships and friendships with this fear?”
“I don’t think it’s a fear. I’m not scared of it happening again because I won’t let it.”
“How do you ensure that doesn’t happen? I’m curious about your process, Scarlett.”
“I just don’t let people get too close romantically. That’s where it hurts the most,” I say easily. It’s the most natural response and the one that’s the truest. This isn’t an interrogation, but for some reason, it feels like it. She’s just trying to get to know me, but it’s so hard to explain that to her when I don’t even know who that is sometimes.
“Do you not think that limits you from gaining something possibly great?”
I shrug. “Maybe. I’d rather have nobody and deal with solitude than have people who are destined to break my heart.”
She nods, writing down in her notebook. I take the opportunity to take a real deep breath and allow the weight of the world to be off my shoulders for one minute.
“And now, as you deal with losing your uncle, are you still shutting people out or are you allowing anyone in?” she asks. “You said you weren’t alone when he passed. I’m assuming you still talk to that person.”
Just the mention of that day, the way Evan held me and cared for me makes me cry even more. He was justthere. She holds the box of tissues towards me, and I grab them.
“God, I’m so fucking embarrassed,” I mutter, wiping my eyes and my face. She doesn’t say anything, but she smiles softly. “Yes, I still talk to him, but not about what happened. It’s hard to talk about it.”
“That’s understandable. It’s not something you exactly want to remember and that’s okay. Dealing with it and moving on is just as important,” she says gently. “Do you mind me asking what you talk about instead?”
I shrug, tilting my head up to the ceiling so I can stop the tears from falling. “He helps me forget. He distracts me and I don’t know if he’s doing it on purpose, but he doesn’t push me to talk about it,” I say, remembering the way he taught me how to play piano. How he let us sit in silence when I didn’t want to talk.
“And does that help?”
“With Evan it’s just…He listens to me. Even if we have a complicated relationship right now, he still manages to care and it’s beyond me why. I haven’t given him any reason to. We weren’t the kindest to each other for a while and then we talked, and I don’t know…I misjudged him. I think we’re similar in that way,” I explain. “Maybe if people got to know me more, they’d actually like me despite my money and my family. But I'm constantly putting up this barrier, terrified of rejection.”
“And you think Evan likes you for more than that?”
“I mean, he has to, right? I’ve put him through some real shit for the last few years and I know he’s probably scarred from witnessing what happened to Gio. And God, I feel like such a hypocrite,” I say when the realisation hits me, and I bark out a disbelieving laugh. “I just said that whole thing about people judging me and deciding they don’t like me, and I did the same thing to him. I’ve got to know him over the last few weeks and he’s…He’s probably one of the kindest people I know. He listens to me, he takes care of me, even when I don’t want him to. It’s not about him choosing me for me because in some way, I don’t think that would matter with him. Even if we had a rocky start, all he’s done since then is make me feel like I’m capable of more than I give myself credit for. He’s gotten to know me, and he hasn’t run away yet.”
Dr. Nelson smiles as more tears run down my face. I rub at my cheeks, sighing as the realisation that I might, actually, definitely like Evan Branson washes over me. “He seems like a good friend. Why do you think you care so much about being liked, Scarlett?”
I laugh. “I don’t care.”
“You do care, Scarlett and that’s okay,” she presses. She’s not going to let this go.
“It’s so easy to say that you don’t care about what people think of you, but the truth of the matter is, you do. Everybody does. Because people’s perception is what makes you,you.You can try to be a good person, and someone will think you’re trying too hard or you’re not trying hard enough. You can try and showcase your intelligence and you’ll get put down for it. So, really, even when I try to be my authentic self, I can’t ever find it because I’m still, subconsciously, trying to please others.”
“Don’t you think it would be freeing if you let go of that?” she asks curiously.
“People don’t need a reason not to like me and they just don’t and that sucks, okay? Even before everything that happened with the party, people had one look at me, and they realised they don’t like me. One person I could deal with. Maybe I’m just not their vibe, but when it’severybody,I’m starting to wonder if maybeI’mthe problem. MaybeIneed to be the one to change because nobody else will. I thought I was just a hard person to love. I tried to change, and it didn’t get me anywhere. But I don’t want to do that anymore because I love myself and I just…I just…”
“Want to fit in and be accepted,” Dr Nelson says, finishing my train of thought. I nod. “It’s all anybody wants.”
“I want to stop feeling this way. I really do. I never used to think about what happened or what people think of me until Gio died and suddenly I’m questioning everything, my loneliness included. I just want to be happy again, but it’s only been two weeks,” I say.
I want to move on. Not because I’m cruel and that I didn’t care about my uncle, but because I have so many goals and aspirations that I can’t achieve if I’m stuck in my head. I don’t enjoy being down and feeling helpless. I like being a fun friend. I like laughing and having a good time, but I feel so guilty about doing that when I’ve just lost one of my closest family members.
“Grief and happiness can coexist. You don’t have to feel guilty for wanting to be happy right now. Nobody chooses to sit in grief, it just happens and that’s okay,” she says gently, as if reading my mind. The way she talks to me makes me believe her. She tells me things and for some reason, I believe they’re true. “You can be more than one thing, Scarlett. You can be brave as well as being scared. You can be confident and have insecurities. You can be rude or mean, but you can also be kind and selfless and loving. Really, you can be anything you want.”
