“It’s quite alright to be different from your spouse in terms of interests, career paths, hobbies, and even who you hang out with. I think it's common to feel like you don’t belong with someone who you are so different from, because security in selfebbs and flows. That’s something that can be improved upon, but I’m warning you now: outside of actively choosing you, it is not her job to make you feel like you belong with her. That is something you’ll have to convince yourself of. As long as you both are aligned in moving the relationship forward and treating each other as best as you can, then you both will be alright.”
Ding.
The timer went off, signaling our session was over. I stood, not knowing exactly how to feel now.
I told Doc that I’d be back in about two weeks and walked out to my car. Doc was right; it wasn’t LaReina’s job to make me feel like I belonged with her. I know I did, and she with me, but those insecurities, man… sometimes they whispered, sometimes they were loud, and sometimes they lingered long after the reassurance kicked in.
But as long as we keep choosing each other, we should be alright, right?
26
REINA
“Let’s talk about accountability today,” Dr. Love said after we exchanged greetings at the beginning of my session.
“Let’s not.”
“LaReina.”
“Fineeee.” I huffed. “Where do we start?”
“Well… do you think you take accountability for your actions?”
I glanced up at the ceiling. “Ummm. When I’m wrong, yeah. Like for example, I said sorry to Vasiah the other day even though he hurt my feelings.”
“But did you mean it? What made you say sorry?”
I was two seconds from walking out this session. The line of questioning was making my head hurt. What did she even mean by what made me say sorry? Ain’t that what I’m supposed to do?
“Imma be honest, Doc… I’m not following. I know I’m a bit too old to not be well-versed in relationships, but it is what it is. What do you mean by what made me say sorry?
She blinked at me, then typed something on her iPad. I’d give my left titty to see what she had to say about me in her notes. “Saying sorry is a complex human behavior. Usually we say it when we want to mend a relationship, right?”
“Right…”
“But sometimes, we can overapologize due to past traumas or anxiety. Even if we didn’t do anything wrong. We tend to do this because we want to control a situation or minimize tension.”
“I don’t think I’m like that. Most times, I don’t give a fuck.”
“Hmm. And that’s why I asked what made you say sorry to Vasiah and whether you meant it. Because if your natural default is to not give a fuck, what has changed?”
I was stumped. And a little ashamed. I was sounding so…callous.
“I’m… I’m not a bad person,” I defended.
“Let’s stay on track here. Those words didn’t come out of my mouth.”
I chewed my bottom lip, then took a deep breath. “Okay. After talking it over with a friend, he straight up told me that I was wrong for bringing Vasiah to the hookah lounge. I truly didn’t think there was nothing wrong with it though, and that was my error.”
“Why didn’t you think there was anything wrong with it?
“Because, I’m used to having my way out here, I’m not gon’ lie. But truly, I didn’t think ole boy was gone be there… though there was a secret part of me that wanted to stunt on him if he was.”
“Why?”
I sighed. “He… disrespected me. Called me a dog ass bitch all because I don’t wanna be with his ass. He has erectile dysfunction, Doc! What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?” I went on to tell her about our back and forth that I kept up for a while, and that’s when she mentally hemmed me up again.
“But if you wanted nothing to do with him because he didn’t satisfy you sexually, why call him over there…to…satisfy you…sexually?” She genuinely looked perplexed, and I wanted to disappear into thin air. Cuz even my rule about it sounded so dumb right now. My cheeks warmed, and everything I was so damn embarrassed. I slid down in my chair.
