Elevator Pitch (Hapless In Love #1)

5. The Dreaded ‘V-Word’

5

the dreaded ‘v-word’

Selah

Manhattan, NY | September 6, 2023

I’ve set up my iPad on my island, along with my usual supplies for therapy—tissues, water, a notepad and a pen. I sit and stare at the clock as I wait for the call. I think of what’s happened over the last week and what I’d like to discuss today. Moments later, Dr. Garnett’s name flashes on the screen, and I swipe to answer. She appears with a soft smile. Her burgundy hair is styled in a short, layered bob with a side bang. When she reaches up to adjust her square-framed glasses, I notice how her olive blouse compliments her brown skin.

It was important for me to find a fellow Black woman as a therapist. I wanted to open up to someone who looked like me and would have a better understanding of my daily challenges as a Black woman.

“Good Afternoon, Selah. How are you feeling today?”

“I’m feeling better, Doc. It was an okay week. I had a bad date, so I won the brunch games, met some neighbors, and made no progress on my list.”

“What about the date was bad?”

“Everything. It was awful, and I didn’t leave when I should’ve. The cook dropped a raw egg on my foot. My date couldn’t pronounce my name and eventually started calling me his ex’s name. He refused to order what I wanted, so he ordered for me. He didn’t have a job and is a rapper who sent me his music once I told him where I worked. He interrupted me whenever I spoke and got six strikes.” I let out a resigned sigh.

She starts jotting down notes before she looks back into the camera.

“It sounds like you weren’t comfortable at any point of the date. You implemented the strike system for these exact situations. To have an excuse to remove yourself. Take a moment to think about that.”

I think about it, and I’m not sure what it was about this date that made me feel stuck. It was as if everything I’d been working toward left me in that moment. It returned when I got angry at the end of the night.

“Simple answer. I’m still people-pleasing. I’m struggling with taking control of situations and removing myself when I’m uncomfortable because I’m still considering everyone’s feelings over my own.”

“Did you stay the entire time?”

I nod. “At the end of the date, he called me ‘Sara,’ tried to kiss me, and suggested that I’d be paying the next time. I finally got angry and found my voice.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“Not as good as I expected. Probably because I should’ve spoken up sooner. When I left the date, I was disappointed, mostly with myself, and I was hurt. He even Venmoed me for my meal because I was a ‘bitch.’ His words. It felt like a sick joke by how much worse it got. I just wanted to go home so I could cry. I even contemplated deleting the SoulBlend app.”

“Did you?”

I shake my head. “I got distracted when my Uber pulled up in front of my building. I realized how close I was to the comfort of my home, and I could let it all out. I grabbed my e-reader to get a little further into my book and hide my face if I looked like I was going to start crying.”

“You know, we often talk about the ‘strong Black woman trope,’ and when you hide your vulnerability, you’re adhering to it. What would happen if you let go and allowed yourself to just be ‘Selah?’ Feel whatever you were feeling in that moment?”

Fuck.

Here come the tears.

She always clocks me.

I love and hate her for it.

“I don’t know how to let go publicly as I do in private. I’m not comfortable doing that. The last time I let anyone see me break down…I had that panic attack. I met Audrey and Eric in that elevator.”

“No consequences came from that. You made friends, and that led to a lot more. You allowed yourself to be vulnerable with no regard for what anyone around you thought, and how did it feel?”

“It was embarrassing. The only reason I didn’t have time to harp on it was because I had more important things to worry about than what two strangers thought about me crying in public.”

She jots down more in her notebook, and I know that means we’ll be digging deeper into that one.

Great .

“We’re going to circle back and dive further into that, but I’d like to cover everything you mentioned before we run out of time. Now, did you allow yourself to cry when you got home?”

“No. I didn’t feel the need to once I settled in.”

“What happened in between the walk from the car to your door?”

“Greyson,” I say in a low voice.

She raises a brow. “You’ve never mentioned him. Who is he?”

“A neighbor I met in the elevator.”

“How was meeting Greyson? ”

“Annoying at first, he interrupted my reading to talk to me. Intentionally . I was rude and didn’t give him eye contact initially, but when I did, I was…stunned. He’s attractive. I’ll say that,” I add with an eye roll.

She stares deadpan over her glasses. “What else?”

“It was a positive interaction, and he was amusing. He inquired about the book I was reading and said he’d like to discuss it when we saw each other again.”

She gives me a look that says ‘ girl .’

“So, when I got home, I didn’t want to cry anymore. I read my book until I fell asleep.”

“And have you seen him again?”

“No. I haven’t left my apartment since Sunday besides getting the mail and taking out the trash.”

She looks down to scribble something in her notebook.

“And you said you met new people this week. Who else?”

“Estelle. A neighbor who lives on my floor. She’s an older Black woman who’s growing out her gray, just like my mom. Movie star gorgeous, and I have no idea how old she is. She’s got a big personality, and she’s hilarious. I learned she grew up in St. Louis too, but she’s lived in New York for the past twenty years.”

“How did you meet?”

“I got some of her mail by accident, and I brought it to her. She answered the door with a wine glass, looking like she’d had a rough day. She was expecting that card and thought it was lost in the mail. Before her husband passed, he wrote her a bunch of love letters and arranged for them to be sent in the future on their anniversaries and birthdays. He got really sick a few years ago and said he didn’t want her to forget how much he loved her when he was gone.” I pause as tears start to fall, and I snatch a tissue to dab at them. I take a deep breath before I continue. “She told me that, and I sobbed on her doorstep.”

“I understand why.” She nods.

“Yeah. She felt bad for making me cry, so she invited me in for wine and cookies. Then we watched the Housewives marathon for a bit.” I chuckle.

“It’s good to hear that you are finally settling in and meeting your neighbors. I would like to challenge you a bit. I don’t think you’ll like this, but I hope you’ll give it a shot.”

“Okay.”

She sits up in her chair and adjusts her glasses. “I’d like for you to try immersion therapy soon. Your dates are a version of this. You are still fearful of dating and relationships, yet you are trying to connect with people. I know the goal is to find partners for things on your list, but it matters no less.

“I know how you feel about working in the office, and I understand it’s optional. However, I’d like to suggest an experiment. How would you feel about working from a coffee shop for a few hours once or twice a week? Just to get out of the house and be around other people?”

I frown and exhale as I consider it.

“I don’t love the way it sounds, but I will give it a try.”

The timer sounds, signaling the end of our session. I couldn’t be happier because I want to climb in bed before I try to work on anything I learned today.

“Let’s recap. What is your homework for the next week?”

“Follow the rules of the strike system. Allow myself to be vulnerable. Try working outside the house once a week and meet new people.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll see you next week, same time. Take care, Selah.”

“You too, Doc.”

The screen goes black as the session ends. I take the tissues with me as I head to my bedroom. I call out for Peach to see if she wants to join me. Therapy is good, but I won’t deny how much it takes out of me. I forgot to bring up my recent nightmares, but I’ll make a note of it for next week.