Mia: Shaken Not Stirred

The true life stories of a NYC female.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

I Passed Their Test

Our session was minutes away from being officially over. My patient had just made a major disclosure about the permanent medical impact of her sexual activity on her life. There was no way I was going to end the session on time. Freak it I thought I’ll skip lunch, this is important. My stomach growled in protest. I had skipped dinner the night before too exhausted to eat and had dashed out of the house without breakfast. It had really been looking forward to lunch. I’ll grab a croissant and some orange juice on my way to campus when my shift here is over I thought to myself.

She sat back in her chair and stared into my face. She’d been hearing voices all morning that much I’d figured out since she kept asking me if I’d heard them as well. Whether she’d made the stunning confession out of her own free will or if it had been at the urging of one of the voices remained unclear to me.

I noticed the twitch in her face, the way she tilted her head as if listening to something. Her voices were with her again and they were obviously interested in what my reaction to her statement was going to be. Her body was tense as she attempted to drill a hole into my face with her stare. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. “Do you think I’m a whore now?” she asked with a trace of hostility in her voice.

I leaned forward in my seat and gave her an equally gimlet stare.

“No, I don’t." She seemed shocked.

She sat back deep into her chair and breathed deeply. Her hands uncurled and she placed them face down on her thighs.

“Did you think I would?”

“Everyone else does.”

“I’m not everybody else. Do you think you’re a whore?”


“Then who cares what the hell anyone else thinks. You know why you did what you did. You were in love right?"

She nodded her head.

I told her she wasn’t alone in her situation. Many have walked in her shoes and until the end of time many more will walk the same path with the same results. That’s what support groups were for I explained.

“They have support groups for this?” she asked incredulously. I nodded my head and smiled.

"They have support groups for everything. People are not alone as they seem to think. How about I find you a support group, would you like to meet other people in the same situation?”


I moved my chair besides her and opened my lap top and we surfed the net. She was amazed by the number of support groups available to her and began talking to me about her situation. I was the first person she’d opened up to about this she’d informed me. I thanked her for her trust.

“Sex doesn’t always hold the same meaning for men as it does women. It’s not your fault the guy turned out to be a jerk. You live and you learn right?”

She nodded her head again.

“I really thought you were going to think I was a slut.”


She patted my desk with her hand. I turned in my seat and looked at her pointing at my desk.

“Who am I to judge you? Do you think that because I sit on that side of the desk that I’ve never made my share of mistakes? Honey trust me I have made my share of mistakes. Big ones. Huge. Take me off the pedestal you’ve place me on because you and I are not so different. I’m human just like you and unless I ever develop the power to raise the dead I have no right to judge you or anyone else and even then I’d hope I’d be wise enough not to. ”

She laughed, she was definitely more relaxed. She tilted her head listening to the voices and she nodded her head in agreement with them. I guessed I had passed their test. My stomach growled at me. I owed it big time.

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Posted by @ 11:11 AM
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