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This book contains mature themes, explicit language, and scenes of a sexual nature intended for adult audiences only. It is rated R and is not suitable for readers under the age of 18.
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This book also includes depictions o...
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Onika Maraj Manhattan Wellness Center
October 18, 2025
"Okay, Ms. Maraj, so how are we feeling today?" my therapist asked gently, her eyes watching me closely. I tapped the sides of the chair nervously, feeling the weight of the question settle in.
"Conflicted," I sighed, sinking back into the seat.
She nodded, her pen hovering over her notebook. "Tell me more about why you feel this way."
I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. "Life just seems so hard for me right now. It's like my brain and my heart are constantly fighting, and I honestly don't know which one is winning." The words tumbled out, a bit shaky, like I'd been holding them in for too long.
She leaned in slightly, her expression calm and encouraging. "Care to elaborate on what they are fighting about?"
I glanced out the window, trying to blink away the tears that threatened to spill over. "I'm in love with my girlfriend..." I whispered, feeling the weight of the confession hit me again, as if saying it out loud made it more real.
"But?" she prompted, sensing there was more.
"She wasn't there for me during my postpartum," I muttered, feeling the anger and hurt rise in my chest as I sat across from Dr. Carter. "I feel like it was all about her. Don't get me wrong, she got shot and I know that's a lot for anyone, but... what about me?"
Dr. Carter nodded like she always does, her face calm but focused. "It sounds like you're feeling neglected in the relationship, like your needs weren't being met. Can you tell me more about that? What specifically did you feel was missing?"
I exhaled, trying to put words to all the shit that's been swirling in my head for months. "I just... I was struggling. I had just given birth to twins, going through postpartum depression, and I felt like I was drowning. But it was like everything was about her. She was healing, and I get that, but I didn't feel seen. I didn't feel like anyone cared about what I was going through."
Dr. Carter stayed quiet, letting me talk. "Did you try to express these feelings to Beyoncé at the time?"
I paused, thinking back to all the times I tried to drop hints, but nothing really changed. "I didn't want to add more pressure on her, you know? She was already dealing with her own trauma, and I felt guilty for even feeling like this."
"Guilty for wanting support from your partner?" Dr. Carter asked softly, like she always knows exactly what to say.
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Yeah. Like, I felt like I didn't have a right to ask for anything because she was going through something too. But I was hurting, and it felt like no one saw that. I was still expected to take care of the kids, take care of her... but who the hell was supposed to take care of me?"
