“And how does that make you feel, Louisa?”
After a decade and a half of therapy, I’ve come to expect this question. I’ve also come to hate it in a way; if I knew the answer, would I have scheduled an emergency Zoom therapy session that’s costing more than usual because it’s Christmas Eve?
I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly. How does it make me feel that my best friend is leaving tomorrow to spend a week and a half in London with her new boyfriend? Hollie will be gone for Christmas and New Year’s Eve, which also happens to be my thirty-fifth birthday. Even though we had an impromptu early Christmas celebration with our other best friends and their boyfriends, it’s not quite the same. We’ve known each other our entire lives and have always seen each other at Christmas.
“I feel…conflicted,” I say finally. “One part silly because we’re adults and it’s unrealistic to expect to always be together for holidays. One part sad because so much has changed recently and this is one more thing. One part guilty for feeling sad. And one part—I’d like to think the biggest part—happy because my friends are in love and they deserve that.”
“They do, yes,” Dr. Woo says. “And, may I remind you, you deserve happiness too. The conflicted feelings are natural; you’ve always struggled with change, and you’ve experienced a lot of it over the last several months. You’ve watched your three closest friends pair off and fall in love. Now this.”
“I really am happy for them, though,” I say quickly.
Dr. Woo smiles gently. “Of course you are, but it’s perfectly normal for you to have mixed feelings underneath. Your feelings are valid, Louisa.”
Dr. Woo is sitting in what I assume is her home office. This is the first time I’ve ever seen her with her hair down; it’s usually in a neat chignon or braid, but tonight it cascades over her shoulders in glossy, dark waves. She’s been my therapist since I was twenty. I should have started seeing someone six years earlier when my mom died, but my dad wouldn’t hear of it. He wouldn’t hear of a lot of things after my mom died. He pulled me out of classes to homeschool me for my last two years of high school. He would only let me go out with my three best friends and their families. Even then, I had a strict curfew and he had to know where I was at all times and how to reach me. He became afraid of the outside world and all its many perils and, as a result, so did I.
“How do you feel you’re coping with everything?” Dr. Woo asks.
“Okay, I think?” It comes out sounding like a question. I try again. “I’m coping well. I’ve been working, sleeping and eating well, plus exercising daily.”
“Good, good.” Dr. Woo nods approvingly. “Keep that up. With the holidays looking different for you this year, I want you to be sure you don’t shut yourself away or cut yourself off from your friends. It would be easy to tell yourself that Evie and Stella are too busy with their new partners, but they love you and want to spend time with you. They’re there if you feel unsteady or need someone to lean on. Remember that. Don’t let the gremlins in your head tell you otherwise.”
I laugh under my breath. When I started therapy all those years ago, I referred to my intrusive thoughts as gremlins. The negative self-talk could take over so easily and was tricky, wily, and sometimes downright nasty. Dr. Woo eventually picked up the term herself, and that was when I knew I’d made the right decision to start therapy and stick with it, even though it was painful. These days, I only make appointments as needed, and Dr. Woo is willing to fit me in for emergencies, like today.
“I promise not to listen to them,” I tell her.
“Good.” I can’t see what she’s doing, but I hear pages rustling and the tapping of a pen on a hard surface. “How are things with Fergus?”
My cheeks heat at the mention of my friend-turned-crush. He was friends with Hollie first, and she invited him to Thanksgiving at Evie’s parents’ place in October. He became part of our expanding friend group after that night, and we’ve spent a lot of time together since. I’m normally painfully shy and nervous around men—I tend to either clam up or babble, all while sweating and experiencing a non-stop internal diatribe from the gremlins—but it was different with Fergus from that first night. There was something about him that put me at ease, even while butterflies used my stomach and esophagus as a playground.
“Nothing has changed, if that’s what you’re asking,” I say. “He’s been good to me and for me. Just like my other friends.”
Dr. Woo makes a hum of acknowledgment. “And you’re still certain he doesn’t return your romantic feelings?”
I swallow a sigh. “I’m sure. He would have said something by now or made a move.” As much as I wish the sexy Scotsman saw me as something other than a friend, it’s clear he doesn’t, despite what my friends keep saying. It’s fine, though; Fergus is kind and thoughtful, attentive and sweet. Not only do I feel at ease around him, I also feel more confident, like I’m able to do more of the things that once frightened me. He’s aware of my anxiety and my limitations, and he’s been patient and encouraging, which isn’t something I can say about everyone that’s come in and out of my life over the years.
After a few more minutes, Dr. Woo and I wrap up our session. We wish each other happy holidays, and I thank her profusely for seeing me on such short notice.
“I’d like you to make another appointment in the new year, preferably an in-person one,” she says. “A follow-up to see how you fared over the holidays.” She shifts in her chair, and I think she’s going to say goodbye and disconnect, but she hesitates. “I want you to remember how strong you are, Louisa. How far you’ve come. I can see a change in you since our last meeting, and I’m proud of the work you’ve done and the ways you’ve continued to step outside your comfort zone and take chances. I’d like for you to keep that in mind over the next week as your birthday and the new year approach, and find new ways to continue your growth. Spend some time with the people you love, but try to do something unexpected too, okay? I believe in you.”
I’m teary eyed as I thank her. She wishes me a happy early birthday, and we disconnect.
Do something unexpected. For some reason, my mind goes straight to Fergus. I’ve toyed with the idea of asking him out, but the very thought of it makes my stomach hurt and my throat close up. If he said no, I’d be mortified, and I’m not sure I could handle the disappointment and inevitable awkwardness that would likely affect our friendship. I’ve only known Fergus for a couple of months, but he’s a bright spot in my life, and I’ve come to rely on him.
I get up from the couch and pace around the living room. When my phone pings, I assume it’s Hollie with more instructions for keeping an eye on her house while she’s away with Spencer. My heart gives a strange little squeeze when I see the text notification is from Fergus.
Lulu, are you busy right now? Can I come over for a few minutes?
As I type out my response—Sure, come on over—I can’t help wondering if this is a sign from the universe, a nudge to take action. I have been known to hesitate, after all. With my birthday only a week away, I’m going to need to muster every last ounce of courage if I want to accomplish Dr. Woo’s suggestion of doing something unexpected.