Flashback

Maya POV

"I'm not sure it's for me...that's what I mean," I say, moving my hands to indicate the space in front of me. I've never been one to talk about myself, my feelings and how I feel.

If not with Andy.

After a couple of beers.

Or more than a couple.

Never sober anyway.

But hey, I'm deeply convinced about this choice… just wish I'd had a drink first to loosen up a bit.

"Why did you decide to come to therapy, Maya? Can I call you Maya?"

I see this figure in front of me, and I know that if I want this to make sense, to make me feel better, I have to open up.

"Certainly, no problem." I take a deep breath, trying to take time and, why not, also a little courage.

"I had a wonderful relationship, but I fucked it up. I always fuck everything up!"

Jane, the therapist, looks at me, absolutely not willing to say a word, on the contrary. Her gaze makes me understand that it is time to tell a few more details.

"I cheated on the woman I love with my ex... or rather with a colleague I used to have sex with every once in a while."

Her expression doesn't change, she doesn't move a facial muscle.

"And I threw it in her face. After she waited for me at home for hours, worried about me, I threw it in her face."

I'm not proud of it. That's one of the reasons I came here. Silence goes down for a few seconds, which feels like minutes.

"You said 'the woman I love'. Not 'the person I was with' or 'the woman I loved'. Why?"

This question is like a tackle. I'm ready to respond, but I think maybe it would be best to take a moment.

A day hasn't gone by without me thinking of you since it ended between us. I thank my lucky stars when a call comes in for a difficult job at work, because at least I know that for a few hours my mind will be on something else.

"Simply because I haven't stopped loving her. A person like her isn't easily forgotten. And I know that if we're not together anymore, it's all my fault... she... she was right."

I regret these last involuntary words because I already know what the next question will be.

"About what, Maya? What was she right about… Carina, right?"

Just hearing her say your name shakes me. All the way through the bones, into the veins, and it looks like a punch to the heart.

"My father abused me"

I almost don't even blink as I say it.

"Not physically... but psychologically. He was not an easy man, much less a loving father. I realized that not long ago."

I think back to the outbursts, when I didn't live up to his expectations, having to be on my toes all the time, to not upset him, to not annoy him. And at these thoughts my muscles twitch, involuntarily, almost as if my body is going on the defensive, as if a danger is approaching.

"Okay, don't worry. Take a moment," Jane tells me, with a different look than before. Not that classic look of pity, which many people have when they hear stories like these, but more of an attentive, inquiring look, which does not give me a feeling of intrusiveness. It almost seems to want to take me by the hand and accompany me into the dark corners of my mind.

I close my eyes for a second, trying to calm my breathing.

Eyes on me.

I hear your voice in my head, I see your face for a second, while you caress my cheeks with your hands. Ah, that's the coup de grace.

"What my father did made me a stronger woman. I won an Olympic medal, I'm one of the youngest women ever to become a captain of the Seattle Fire Department. I'm a force, a true force of nature, and every goal I've reached, I've reached with my own legs. They are not his conquests, but mine!" "Then what is it about what your father did to you that still frighties you?"

I didn't expect a therapist to go in so heavy, so direct. I just hope it turns out to be what I needed in the long run.

"It scares me that I might be like him."

Silence falls in this room. Besides, the coldness in my tone of voice while I say certain things often freezes me too. I see her taking some notes on the planner she keeps on her lap. I'm curious but sure I don't want to know what's in it, also because I've seen her write enough since the beginning of the session.

"Ok Maya, I'd say we've set our starting point. Now, I'd like to ask you again a question I already asked you. Try not to focus on the answer you have already given me, but just think about what you have told me and follow your instincts. Okay?"

I nod yes. I'm not sure where this is going, but I want to let myself go.

"Why did you decide to come to therapy, Maya?" Wow, all of a sudden this question, which I thought I knew the answer to, seems to catch me unprepared. But I want to follow my instincts, and let the words come out of my mouth as they come. As soon as I get them.

"I don't want to hurt the people I love anymore. I want to believe that I'm not a monster like my father, and I want to do everything I can to not become like him."

Yeah, did they come out!

"Okay... I want to point out how your response is no longer focused on a specific event or something external, but on you. You put you and what you want at the center. There's no more talk of an episode to want to make up for. It's about a journey you want to make on yourself, and that's the only effective long-term motivation."

I reflect upon Jane's words. But I can't help but think of you: it was you who advised me to do it and if I had just followed your advice before, maybe... maybe you would still be with me.

"It's normal, Maya, that right now you're thinking about the person who pushed you to take this step. From what I learned about you in this first session, it couldn't have been easy to make a decision like this. But I want you to understand that this path is about you and especially for you.

Only then, regardless of what happens tomorrow, you will be able not to fall back into what you yourself have called mistakes."

She's absolutely right. I know, but I can't help it. I can't stop thinking about you.

"Ok… I think that's enough for today, Maya. We'll continue during next session."