“Hey, Dr. Love,” I greeted. I opted to take a seat on the chaise lounge chair across from her. We stared at each other for a minute, and I observed that while her hair was a nice length, the grey color she was rocking could be touched up. I made a mental note to ask her who did her hair and offer her a service with either one of my stylists or me.
“The infamous LaReina.” She smiled slightly.
“Infamous?” I clarified.
“Desiraè speaks highly of you. But I want to know more about you as an individual. So to kick this off, what exactly brings you in?” She leaned back in her seat. I stared carefully at her, trying to figure out where I wanted to start.
“Do you ever just feel like…everything you’ve ever been taught is just wrong? Like, the people around meant well, but really, it was just the blind leading the blind? Now here I am, in my thirties, feeling emotionally stunted. Like, getting niggas is not a problem. You see me,” I winked and motioned over my face and body. “But connecting with them outside of sex and actually allowing them to see my soft side or my lover girl side is non-existent. And until recently, I never cared about how I came across to these niggas. They were for two things only. Money and dick. And I never needed their money because I have my own,” I rambled.
Dr. Love nodded as I talked, every so often typing on her iPad. Then she set it down and leaned forward.
“I know I said a lot…” I was two seconds from picking up my purse and hightailing it outta here.
“You did. But that’s why you’re here: to unpack. So let’s address them one by one. We may not get through everything today, but if you’re up to it, we can schedule more sessions. Is that cool?”
I nodded, remembering that Rae said this therapist lady wasn’t all prim and proper, appearance aside.
“Aight, so. You said that you feel like certain things taught to you by your loved ones are wrong, even if their intentions were in the right place. What things were you taught that you still carry with you? And were these lessons taught in childhood, adolescence, or adulthood?”
I chewed the inside of my jaw. “Okay so… you know I’m a twin, right? Rae’s husband is my brother. Our daddy died when we were ten. He was in the streets, and according to my Nana, our mama gave him an ultimatum: the streets or his family. He chose the streets because I don’t think he ever lived with us or anything, but he spent a lotta time with Reign… not so much me. I was never a daddy’s girl or anything,” I scoffed.
“What did he and Reign do together?”
“I’m guessing something street-related. Reign is still so vague about it. I haven’t asked about it in years, though.”
“Do you think that Reign is vague to protect you?”
I shrugged. “Girl… I couldn’t tell you. I know Reign like the back of my hand, but sometimes his decision-making blows the fuck outta me. And my daddy, girl, I barely remember his ass.”
“What about your mom?”
“Renita is…” I paused. “I don’t know how to describe our relationship. She sent Reign to live with our Nana, and I followed him, and we barely saw her during our teen years… Not saying she’s a bad person! But she’s just distant. Maybe we all are.”
“Do you desire closeness with her?”
“That answer varies by the day. I often question if she wants to be close tous.It’s like once she got fed up with Reign, she got fed up with us both. She works a lot as a travel nurse… but … a part of me feels like having a relationship with her grown children is a two-way street?” The last part came off as a question because I didn’t know.
“So how do you think that affects you today? You still never said what you were taught.”
“Right, I’m getting to that. So like I was saying, I followed my brother’s lead, but what the fuck do niggas actually know? Don’t get me wrong, I am my own person. But Reign taught me to hustle, to not take shit, and to keep my eyes on my paper. And I take it seriously. Niggas don’t play in my face; I am successful, and nobody can outwork me. But I feel like… I’m going about shit all wrong.”
“Name one thing you’re wrong about.”
“Well, for starters, I have never been in a relationship. Mind you, I get niggas… but actually claiming one?EEEEEEYUCK!” Dr. Love fell out laughing, breaking up the seriousness of it all.
“I truly thought love wasn’t for me. But recently, my tune is changing. I think I am truly losing my marbles, Doc. Because now… I want love and I… I think I amin love. But I’m also afraid that Imma fuck this up.” I finally breathed, and the room fell silent.
“And is this a person who has changed your tune?”
“Vasiah. I… he’s… this shit feels childish! Like, we are so opposite. He’s a nerd; I’m not. He’s chill, I’m not really. He doesn't know how to shoot. He isn’t from the streets. And I approached himfirst, which goes against all my rules.” I fell deeper into the chaise, feeling crazy.
“This is like the second time you’ve mentioned rules. But the reality is, when it comes to love, there aren’t many rules. Have boundaries and standards for how you want to be treated, yes. But I imagine that to prevent getting played, you are also preventing people from getting close to you, too?”
I nodded, feeling ashamed. “My Nana used to tell me that I needed to act more ladylike because no man wanted a crazy ass woman. But I truly don’t think I’m crazy, Doc. Just misunderstood more than anything. I be wanting niggas to be patient with me – correction –my niggato be patient with me.”
“You’ve said a lot without directly answering my questions, LaReina. What makes you desire love… or, more importantly, is it Vasiah who is making you reconsider how you show up love-wise?”
“Kinda.”
