Page 9 of Meet Me at the Altar

“A hotel.”

“How am I supposed to get home?”

“Use the car service.”

“Are you coming home?”

“Hell no.”

“What about your things, Drè? What am I supposed to do with them?”

“I don’t give a fuck about that shit, about you, or any of this bullshit. Live your life, Mercedes.”

Chapter 3

Kalliope

ONE YEAR LATER

“When you first returned to me, you had just dyed your hair red, gotten some tattoos, and a couple of piercings. You had returned to your place of residence that you shared with your ex-boyfriend, spray painted the house that he was a cheater, and you had put up signs all over his yard and your neighbor’s yard that he was screwing your eighteen-year-old neighbor. Then you slashed his tires and bust the windows out of his car, taking literally the song that you played in your car, to heart. You stated that your family said, ‘We don’t know you anymore.’ You have come a long way in the last year, Kalliope. How are you feeling about the progress you’ve made?” Dr. Jessica Norris, my therapist, asked.

“I’ve grown up a lot, and I’m just doing what feels good in the moment. It was difficult living my life doing what everyone elseexpected of me, and I never realized how oppressive that was. This is the first time that I’ve felt so free.”

“Do you believe their perception of you as the good girl was based on their expectations of you or who you projected yourself to be?”

“I think it was a combination of the two. My parents molded me into this image as the youngest, and they held me to it. I came to expect it of myself, took pride in it, and showcased it for people outside of our family. It was exhausting.”

She sighed and steepled her fingers under her chin. “The first time you came to see me was almost ten years ago. We worked for two years before we both deemed you were ready to be free. You returned a little over a year ago, and you were once again stressed about something similar that brought you to me in the first place.

“As we talked, we discovered that you were having separation anxiety. The first time, your best friend left your life unexpectedly, and whereas you expected him to return soon after he left, he didn’t. This time, you lost your job unexpectedly, and then you came home to learn that your boyfriend had cheated on you. You declared that you were done with relationships. Are you still in that same space today, or would you be open to meeting new male friends? The goal is not necessarily to start a relationship but maybe engage in some friendly dates.”

I sighed as she summarized the trauma I dealt with around men. Of course, I wanted to date again, and I wanted a relationship eventually. Marriage had been on the radar forever, but it was no longer my goal. If it happened, fine, and if it didn’t, fine. The thought of starting a relationship was scary. Putting my heart out there again to get hurt was risky, and all of that started with dating.

“I don’t know, Dr. Jessica. I’ve asked that same question of myself a million times. Truthfully, the tattoos, hair dye, and ban on relationships were my way of detaching myself from my past, people’s expectations of me, and my perception of myself. I believed it would protect me from getting hurt again.”

“What was your conclusion?”

“In some ways, it can. My life changes are my way of telling people that they cannot place their expectations on me, and I’m not as predictable as I always was. I’m living my life on my own terms. I fear that opening myself up to relationships will bring those expectations and pressure back on me again. I’m not sure that I’m ready for that—I don’t trust men, any men.”

“Let’s look at that. Is it that you don’t trust men at all, or you just don’t trust men with your heart?”

“Definitely that. They’ve done nothing but abuse my heart and disappoint me.”

“Which brings me to my point. Is it that you can’t trust all men or specific men?”

“I trust my father and my brother with my life.”

“I know. You’ve told me in the past how much you depend on them. Has there been a string of men who have hurt you?”

“No. Just two, my best friend and ex-boyfriend.”

“We have spoken in depth about your ex-boyfriend cheating on you. You now understand that it was not a reflection on your self-image or your role as a woman in his life. His cheating was a selfish decision that he made that put both your health and his at risk. It is understandable that you are hurt by his choices and even angry. I want you to focus on learning how to forgive, though, Kalliope.

“Carrying anger and resentment aren’t healthy for you or the relationships in your life. You deserve good, healthy relationships, and you deserve love. When you choose to forgive, it does not mean that you don’t place barriers up to protectyourself, but you get to walk away freely from all the guilt, the hurt, and the weight of those painful memories. I want that for you.”

I wiped at the tear that fell down my cheek. “I want that for me too.”

“Now, about your best friend. We hardly ever delve into that, and I notice that you still call him your best friend when you talk about him. Each time, I’ve said ‘former’ in the past, you have corrected me. What is that about?”