She smiled lightly. “I am. I’m half-Mexican on my mom’s side.” She shook her head at my obvious attempt at changing the subject. “But did something happen when you were looking for me to lead to a panic attack?”
“We’re trauma dumping on date two, remember?” I replied, still trying to deflect and internally wondering if it was a sign I wasn’t ready to put myself out there again. Would I always fear losing the women in my life?
ELEVEN
PRESENT
Grant and I talked every day since our first date. Unfortunately, the date didn’t end up like I expected—not that I expected sex on the first date, but I would have at least liked a kiss. I tried not to take it personally because he said he’s old-fashioned and doesn’t like to rush things, but I’ve never been out with a guy who didn’t rush to sex. I had to believe he still wanted me, even if we moved slower than I had with anyone else before. It was all a part of healing.
We'd talk on the phone every night before bed, sharing highlights of our days and random casual topics to get to know each other. I found out he loved to cook, had a younger sister, and read every night before bed. The more we talked, the more unique our questions became. I learned he had an anxious habit of chewing on his hair, so much so that one side is slightly shorter than the other.
I smiled as I got in my car to drive to therapy, feeling more excited about the path ahead rather than scared. I told Darlalast week I was ready to try EMDR. After my date with Grant, I came to realize how much I loved the version of myself I became in his presence. I quickly decided to try EMDR sooner rather than later, because that version of myself deserved to shine a lot more.
I knew I was going to have to talk about my upbringing and relationship with my mom and what happened to me when I was young, but I had buried everything from my childhood so deeply. I didn’t even know if it was possible to bring it back to the surface. Emma was the only person I’ve shared any details with. I’ve tried telling my mom, but those conversations never went well. I even gave minor details to my middle school best friend, Shawn. He never knew the full truth, though.
I considered talking more about Shawn. I glued myself to him like he was the only one who could save me. From the moment I met him when I was eleven, I thought he was my soulmate in every sense of the word. I was wrong, and it took me a very long time to move on with my life without him.
I replayed memories of Shawn as I drove to therapy when Grant called. “Hey, you,” I said in greeting.
“I figured the sound of my voice might ease any nerves for your first EMDR session today. I know from experience that the first time can be rough.” I had shared with Grant how I was about to start EMDR therapy, but didn’t go into the details—that’s for the second date.
“Thank you so much for saying that. I feel so much better about it,” I said very sarcastically.
He laughed. “I only want you to be prepared, but also know you’ve got this! You are stronger than your trauma. I know we haven’t known each other long yet, with one date and a few hour-long phone calls, but I can tell from those interactions how strong you are.”
If he could see me, he would notice me blushing. “Thank you, genuinely. What do you have going on this afternoon?” I asked, redirecting the conversation away from me.
“I actually have the day off, so I’m thinking of doing some sightseeing. I might go read at the beach.”
“I can’t believe your work trip is in California, and you get to stay by the beach. I honestly don’t know what has kept me in Arizona for so long. I literally pass out if I get too hot.” I couldn’t believe I admitted that.
“I guess you’ll have to keep me around so you can go on one of these trips with me.” I heard some background noise, as if he were talking to someone.
“Do you have to get off the phone?” I asked instead of responding to his statement. I loved the thought of traveling with him, but it was still early, and I still had a lot of personal healing to do. I still second-guessed every interaction with lingering thoughts of not being good enough for a man like him. Or at least the man he’s shown me so far.
“I should. My buddy who lives out here is complaining about being starved, so I probably shouldn’t keep him waiting. But before I go, can you humor me for a second?”
My stomach fluttered. “O-kay,” I muttered hesitantly.
“I want you to repeat after me.” He paused. “I am stronger than my trauma.”
I wanted to believe him, but the doubts crept into the back of my mind. I was also relieved that he had become someone who believed in me and wanted to talk to me through this new beginning. I paused with hesitation before finally saying, “I am stronger than my trauma.”
“Good girl. I’ll talk to you tonight.”Did he actually say that?The call ended before I could say anything else or even fully process what he said.
I was still in shock when I pulled into my therapist’s parking lot. Had he called me a good girl on purpose to distract me? That’s why he hung up before I could even say goodbye. All I thought about was what else I could do to have him call me agood girlagain.
I smiled as I walked into the waiting room and sat down, reminiscing about meeting Grant. Darla soon appeared and said, “Serenity, are you ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I stood up from the waiting room chair and followed her to her office. The smell of chamomile brought me comfort.
“How has your week been?” She took out her notepad and uncapped her pen.
“Honestly, good. I’ve been talking to someone, which makes me a little nervous because I don’t want to scare him away before we even have a chance to begin, since I’m barely starting to heal from my past.” How could I even explain to her that there was an immediate connection between Grant and me, which neither of us could really explain?
“First, healing can be a lengthy process depending on several factors. We may not be able to eliminate all your triggers, but we can work through your emotional responses to traumatic memories. You are already ahead of a lot of people in understanding your healing journey by being here.” She gave a reassuring grin.
I pondered what she said for a minute. I wondered how it would feel to think about the traumatic moments in my life without falling into a depressive episode, keeping me in bed all day. I wanted to be strong enough to live my truth without shame. I wanted to love myself wholeheartedly, so I only accepted the same love in return. I needed control of my life back. I couldn't keep everything buried deep anymore.
