westward grove

twenty

"Tell me about yourself, Camila." My therapist suggested, crossing her legs.

The request was simple enough, but I struggled to draw up an answer. She knew virtually nothing about me, so I supposed I should start with the basics. "My name is Karla Camila Cabello, but I go by Camila. I'm twenty two years old, I'll be twenty three soon. I was born in Cuba, lived in Mexico for a while, then settled in Miami when I was six." I paused for a moment, taking a breath. "I have a girlfriend, her name is Lauren. We've been together for a couple of months, and I hope it ends up being forever. I don't really have any family, just my sister, but it's whatever. I work in a strip club, which my girlfriend owns. I'm also a writer, but I'm not making consistent money off of that. So, I strip." I concluded with my job occupation, not knowing what else to bring up.

My therapist's name was Dr. Winston, or, Rebecca. Dr. Winston was at least forty, but aging gracefully. Glasses with thick black frames sat on her nose. Her hair was blonde, and even though no roots were showing, I had a feeling it was from a box. She cocked an eyebrow, causing me to realize that she noticed me staring. It was innocent, but probably looked suspicious.

"It sounds like things are going pretty well for you." The proclamation came out as more of a question.

I shrugged, because, with everything considered, things were going pretty well. "I have some pretty bad family issues and a problem with substance abuse that consistently cause problems in my life." Normally, I wouldn't admit either of these things if my life depended on it, but I wasn't paying all this money not to get help.

"Would you be willing to talk about your family today?" Dr. Winston asked. "You don't have to talk about anything you're not comfortable with, seeing as this is only our first session together. It's just that, a lot of problems can stem from family issues."

As much as I despised the topic, I more or less wanted to talk about my family. I was paying my therapist not only to help me with my issues, but not to judge me. There was a seemingly infinite reasons I couldn't stand my family, and I was usually hesitant to discuss them.

"My mother used to hit me." I stated, opting to just dive right in. The words came out easily, as though I'd been wanting to say them for an eternity. "Not that often, and she stopped once I was old enough to fight back, but it still happened. I think I've moved past that, though. What I can't move past is that she used to tear me down, and make me feel like shit. That just... hurts."

Dr. Winston nodded as though she understood, even though I knew with every fiber of my being she didn't. "Have you spoken to your mother about this?"

"She died a few months ago. I had plenty of opportunities to discuss it. I mean, shit, she wanted to discuss it." I laughed quietly, entirely out of spite. "She seemed really... guilty, and she apologized more than once. She was actually sorry for all of the bullshit she put me through, and I completely disregarded her."

Dr. Winston pursed her lips, causing me to shift uncomfortably in my seat. "Do you regret not patching things up?" She asked, a hint of sympathy in her voice.

"Patching things up would have required me forgiving her, and I wasn't ready to forgive her." I explained. "I've come to terms with the fact that I missed my opportunity to have something resembling a functioning relationship with her. When she died, I wasn't at a point in my life where I could let the past be the past. I'm still not at that point, but I'm a little closer."

"What about the rest of your family?" Dr. Winston questioned. "Do you have a relationship with them?"

"My sister and I are okay." I started, releasing a deep sigh. "My father split when I was a kid. He wasn't really part of my life before that, though. He used to work all the time."