“He had no disciplinary flags.”
“Yes.”
I hold their gaze.
“He didn’t deteriorate under my influence,” I say. “He improved.”
They sit back slightly.
“I will not deny that my heart got involved,” I continue. “But I did not exploit my position. I did not manipulate sessions. I did not violate confidentiality. I maintained professional documentation.”
“And your solution?” the man asks.
“I will no longer sit in on Wilder’s sessions,” I say clearly. “Another professional can take over his case immediately. I will work exclusively with other players.”
“You’re willing to recuse yourself entirely?”
In other words, I’m removing myself from a difficult situation.
“Yes.”
“And the relationship?”
“That is no longer ongoing,” I say, forcing the words to stay steady.
The woman studies me carefully.
“You understand that even if you are not working directly with him, proximity still presents scrutiny.”
“I understand scrutiny,” I reply. “I chose this field knowing it would be male-dominated. Knowing I would be judged harsher than my male counterparts. I am prepared for scrutiny.”
The man folds his hands.
“You believe you can maintain professionalism despite personal feelings?”
“I believe professionalism is not the absence of feeling,” I say. “It’s the discipline to act correctly regardless of it.”
Silence.
I lean forward slightly.
“With respect,” I add, “I did not sleep my way into this position. I earned it. I will not allow the narrative to reduce my competence because my personal life intersected with my work.”
The woman’s expression softens.
“You are aware that stepping down voluntarily might have been easier.”
“Yes,” I say. “But easier is not the same as right.”
Another pause.
Finally, the man nods slowly.
“We can authorize conditional continuation,” he says. “You will be formally removed from any direct involvement with Mr. Calloway.”
“That is acceptable.”
“You will undergo quarterly review.”
