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My eyes began to blur, filling with moisture, and the messages kept coming.
Gael: It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. It’s kinda cool to have someone to talk to you. I have a new book for you to read! I put it in Spencer’s office. You’ll be awesome today!
Sebastian: I hope you truly realize how special you are. There’s nothing you can’t do.
Kai: Hey, son.
A laugh burst from my lips, mingling with my tears. He’d called me that because I’d joked about him being my stepdaddy when he first got with Marcus.
Kai: Sending you good thoughts today. If you need to, come over. And if you need time with just Marcus, that’s cool too.
Elliott: Let’s plan on another hug orgy next time we see you. Proud of you, man.
I was…Jesus, I was the luckiest person in the world. Every single guy who had messaged me loved me. Spencer, who had offered to take the day off and would be ready to cheer me up later, loved me. To them, it didn’t matter that I wasn’t perfect, and I was going to work my ass off so that the only opinions that would matter would be from people like them.
I got out of the car and made my way into the building. The paperwork had all been done online, but I still had to give the receptionist my ID and insurance card.
My leg bounced as I waited for my name to be called. I only sat there for three minutes, which I knew because I was watching the time obsessively, when a Black woman with a buzzed head and a kind smile opened the door and asked, “Corbin?”
“Yep. That’s me.” I plastered on a fake, probably overdramatic smile.
“Hi. I’m Imani. It’s so nice to meet you.”
We shook hands before she led me down the hallway to her office. There was a couch and two armchairs inside, along with her desk and chair. Photos of the ocean hung on the walls, and a soft scent wafted from a dispenser.
“Have a seat. You can choose any one.” I pretended to head over to her desk chair, and Imani laughed. “Oh, I see I’m going to have my hands full with you,” she joked.
“I can’t say you’re the first person to tell me that.” I chose the corner cushion on the couch, and she sat in one of the armchairs.
“You’ll keep me on my toes, then. We’ll start with me telling you a little about myself. I know how difficult it can be to talk to a stranger. I’ve been in your seat.”
“This exact one?” I teased, because that was just what I did. Deflect.
“Well, that too.” She snickered. “But really, I think it’s important to share that even therapists benefit from therapy. You might decide you don’t connect with me, and that’s okay. It’s important to find the person you feel comfortable with. Just to share a small amount about myself, I’m in recovery from ED and have worked with this population for about twenty years. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
Wow…so she had been where I was? And she’d gotten in a healthier mindset?
“I’m married. I have a lovely wife, and we’ve adopted one child together. I love the ocean, as you can tell from the photos. I call myself a bit of a photographer, but really, it’s just something I do to unwind. What do you do?”
“To unwind? Honestly? I work out, or I used to hook up a lot.”
“Used to?”
“I have a boyfriend now.” I looked down. “It’s partly because of him that I’m here. He’s helped me want to be healthy.”
“Do you want to tell me more about him?” Imani asked, and I grinned.
“I do.” I started talking about Spencer, which then led to telling her about the Beach Bums and our podcast. I ended up rambling about sex too, and how being with all those men had made me feel wanted. Somehow that turned into a discussion about my family, how they loved me in a way that sometimes hurt, made me feel as if I wasn’t good enough or letting them down. I told her about my insecurities as a child, which I guessed were also my insecurities as an adult. How social media made me feel wanted and sexy, but could also make me feel ugly and hated. How I was afraid of looking like I had when I was young, and the shame I felt in that because it felt fatphobic and wrong. Sometimes when I looked in the mirror, I would see what I truly looked like. Other times, I would only see every imperfection and often exaggerated them. I just…spilled it all. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. Eventually, tears were streaming down my face, and I’d gone through most of the box of tissues she gave me.
