I fight an urge to roll my eyes. He’s obviously one of these ‘not all men’ types who claims to be an ally and then calls you a fat bitch because you don’t want to give him a blowjob, even after he oh-so generously held a door open for you.
Edward meets my eye, his expression serious and earnest. Okay, maybe he’s not one of them.
‘You mentioned having migraines recently,’ he begins. ‘Did you know women are three times more likely to get migraines? That they’refourtimes as likely to have an autoimmune disease? Not to mention, twice as likely to suffer from depression.’ He clears his throat. ‘Some experts think it’s linked to the fact that women aren’t able to release their anger properly. They shove it all deep down inside.’
I take this in. ‘I wouldn’t exactly call that scene in TGI Friday’s a healthy way to deal with my emotions.’ I grimace.
‘That’s fair,’ he laughs dryly. ‘But at least you were letting them out instead of forcing them back down.’
‘But I feel angry all the time,’ I protest weakly. ‘I getsoangry.’
‘I’m sure you do.’ He smiles dryly, then nods at the journal. ‘But look at those examples of your anger. On Tuesday you say you wanted to throw the Wi-Fi router across the room and scream, but did you?’ I shake my head as he continues, ‘I’m not saying that would be the right way to ventyour frustration, but you could’ve called the provider. You could’ve taken a walk while it fixed itself. You could’ve had lunch to distract yourself.’ He pauses. ‘And then on Wednesday, you wrote that you were stuck behind a man at the fridge in an M&S.’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘Did you actually say anything or did you just stand there silently waiting and feeling furious for the whole six minutes?’
‘I stood there silently waiting and feeling furious,’ I confirm in a mumble, then throw my hands up. ‘But whatcouldI say?’ I cry, feeling slightly hard done by.
Edward cocks his head. ‘Well, you could’ve said, “Excuse me, can I get my three bean Mexican wrap with tomato salsa and sweet potato?” That might’ve been one option.’
‘Oh,’ I say, genuinely stumped by this. It honestly hadn’t occurred to me. I stood there that whole time, hopping from foot to foot, silently raging at the entitlement of men and waiting for the guy to realise how inconsiderate he was being. And of course, he didn’t, which only compounded my upset. But Edward’s right. I could’ve just said ‘excuse me’ and got on with my life.
Why didn’t I do that? What’s wrong with me?
‘There was one part here that felt real’—he gestures to the journal—‘where you said your broken internet made you feel like you couldn’t control the situation…’
I wait, staring at a dark hair on his shoulder. It is the only imperfection on his otherwise impeccable suit. With that much hair on his head, it’s surprising he doesn’t shed more.
He pauses. ‘When your boyfriend—’
‘Ex-boyfriend,’ I correct quickly, then feel silly for saying it. It suddenly feels like I’m flirting with him or something.
‘Ex-boyfriend.’ Edward nods. ‘Justin?’ I gulp in acknowledgement as he continues, ‘When Justin said he didn’t want to be with you anymore, what were you really feeling in that moment? Sitting there at the table in that restaurant?’
I sniff, trying to take myself back to that moment. I’ve tried so hardnotto think about it. I’ve tried to pretend it didn’t happen at all.
‘Angry,’ I say simply.
He frowns. ‘But you and I both know there would’ve been more to it,’ he prods. ‘Anger is a secondary emotion. It’s a defensive emotion that’s protecting you – shielding you – from some other primary emotion or feeling. I’m not saying anger isn’t real or important, of course it is. Anger is natural. It’s important. It’s a powerful force; a good thing. Unless it’s not dealt with properly and it becomes destructive. That’s when we lash out or make bad decisions. You can hurt people who don’t deserve it.’
‘Justindiddeserve it!’ I say fiercely, and he nods.
‘Of course he did!’ he replies with certainty, and I feel a rush of new affection for him. ‘But do you ever find yourself lashing out at people whodon’tdeserve it?’ I hesitate, not answering. But I think about how the only person I ever really snap at is Sam. Who nevereverdeserves it. I think about swearing all over the anger journal. That could be construed as me lashing out in the wrong direction again. At Edward. When he’s actually been pretty nice.
He continues, ‘You have to understand the underlying feelings, so you can manage them going forward. So you can develop healthy coping mechanisms and gain clarity.’ He pauses. ‘So what else were you feeling when Justin ended things?’
I take a deep breath, my head spinning as I think back to that painful evening. ‘Humiliated,’ I admit after a moment. ‘Vulnerable. Rejected. Hurt. Sad.’ I start speaking faster. ‘Afraid, ashamed, guilty, weak, exposed.’ I look down at my hands – they’re shaking a little. ‘A thousand things, I guess.’
He leans forward. ‘Feeling angry is a lot easier than feeling those other emotions, isn’t it? Fury can make you feel in control, at least temporarily.’ I nod as he continues. ‘That’s why I thought the anger journal might be good for you. It’s a safe space to write things down – to vent. A constructive way to make sense of how you feel. I want it to help you express, not repress. And it could help you release some of that pent-up, self-harming rage.’
‘Right,’ I say softly. Because it actually – horribly and embarrassingly – makes so much sense.
‘But, for the record,’ Edward smiles. ‘I really don’t think the problem was that one-off tantrum in the middle of the restaurant.’ He pauses. ‘I think the problem is that it was a one-off.’
I let this sink in.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
As Edward and I finish up the session, there is a knock at the door and Sam bursts in without waiting.
‘Aren’t you guys done yet?’ she calls out as Edward frowns.
