“And Alex?”
“Dom and Enzo. Tabitha and a few others at work. My family knows about us, but they don’t really get the complexities.”
Elena nodded. “So you both have support networks outside this relationship. That’s important—you’re not solely dependent on each other for emotional regulation.” She looked at me. “When was the last time you actually reached out to Dom about what you’re going through?”
“Two days after the flood. After the PTSD episode. He called to check in, I told him what happened.”
“So he’s aware of your current struggles, knows you’re in intensive therapy right now.”
“Yeah. He knows.”
“That’s good. You’re actually using that support system. What about other people? Your dad, other family members?”
I shifted closer to Alex. “Dad knows some of it. He’s seen me at my worst now, helped with the injections. But I don’t talk to him the way I talk to Dom or you.”
“Part of building sustainable recovery is distributing that support. Dom, me, your family—those connections matter. They give you outlets so Alex isn’t carrying everything alone, which reduces the pressure that triggers your protection instinct.”
“I can work on that,” I promised.
“Good.” Elena looked between us. “Now let’s talk about your physical relationship. How has intimacy been affected by Finn’s medical conditions and recovery?”
My cheeks flamed. I didn’t want to talk about this part with my therapist.
Alex spoke first. “The testosterone treatment’s obviously helping. Finn’s more confident lately, more willing to engage physically.”
“And the challenges?” Elena pressed gently, turning to me.
I took a breath. “ED sometimes. Energy fluctuations. The damn TBI affects everything—desire, physical stamina, even just maintaining arousal consistently.” I felt heat creep up my neck. “I haven’t been ready to… we haven’t had… intercourse. Alex has been amazing about all of it. Just like she always is. Patient. Accepting. Makes it easier to not feel like a failure every time my body doesn’t cooperate.”
“That acceptance is important for recovery,” Elena replied. “Sexual function issues are common with TBI and hormonal disruption. Treating them as medical challenges rather than personal failures reduces the shame that often makes symptoms worse.” She turned to Alex. “How do you feel about navigatingthose challenges?”
“Honestly? It’s not as hard as I thought it might be. The physical stuff is just logistics, and I like a challenge.” Her lips hitched to the side. “We figure it out. What sucks is when Finn pulls away emotionally because he’s worried about his physical limitations.”
“So the withdrawal is more difficult than the actual medical challenges.”
“Yes,” Alex’s voice was certain.
“Finn, do you hear that? The limitations themselves aren’t the problem for Alex. It’s when you let shame about those limitations create distance between you.”
“I hear it.”
“Physical intimacy is part of how you connect and support each other. When trauma or medical issues affect that, it’s not just about sex. It’s about maintaining connection and partnership. The goal isn’t perfect performance, it’s finding ways to stay connected that work for both of you despite the challenges.”
“We’re getting there,” I murmured.
“I can see that.” Elena’s voice softened slightly. “The fact that you can discuss this openly, that Alex can communicate what actually matters to her versus what Finn assumes matters, that’s healthy partnership functioning.”
She set her pen down, looking between us. “Here’s what I’m observing. You both have strong foundations, good communication when you actually use it, support systems beyond each other, willingness to work through difficult topics. The barriers aren’t about compatibility or whether you’re good for each other. They’re about individual patterns, Finn’s protection instinct and worthiness issues, Alex’s rejection sensitivity and competence armor, that interfere with using the support you’re both trying to provide.”
Alex and I sat silently for a moment.
“So what do we do?” I asked finally.
“You keep showing up. Keep being honest about what’s hardinstead of hiding it. Keep using the support systems you have.” Elena paused, turning to me more fully. “And Finn, you specifically need to work on believing that needing support doesn’t make you a burden. That your worth isn’t tied to how useful you are. Because that belief is what drives the isolation that makes PTSD worse.”
“I’m trying,” I whispered.
“I know you are,” she nodded. “And Alex, you’re doing the work too—catching yourself when you armor up, being honest about your struggles instead of defaulting to ‘fine.’”
