Emmarie’s Perseverance Series

“Ok so it all started when my Dad passed when I was 4. He was murdered in a robbery gone bad. I don’t remember it. But I blame it for what happened next, because if he never left then my Mom would’ve never remarried and he would’ve never hurt me. He, being, my late step Dad. He also died… in a car crash… I was in it. I was only 11. My Mom was there too. We were going to our 3rd Thanksgiving Dinner of that Thanksgiving day. We were t-boned and he took direct contact from the vehicle. I was in the hospital for a long time with broken bones and my Mom had a pretty nasty head injury. She had a really  hard time overcoming that. But she also didn’t know what he did. I don’t know if it would have made a difference anyway. Do you think it would have?”, Emmarie said trying not to cry.

“Well, you haven’t told me what he did yet and I don’t know your Mother or much about her. So it would be really hard for me to say. I’m just on the outside hearing your story alone. I couldn’t really give an accurate opinion when I know little details and even as you tell me more of those details without actually being there or at least knowing more about your Mother’s side, if she did know, it’s difficult to form a judgement call. Does that make sense, Emmarie?”, the therapist said carefully.

“Yeah. It does. I just know she’s very religious and didn’t seem too worried about what made me self harm… just about how it would affect my afterlife and how the church would view such an act. So I find it hard to see her in a nurturing way about anything. And outside of those reasons she also was very self centered and wanted to be the center of attention and hated when anyone else was in the spotlight. Especially me. So I feel like she would somehow be mad at me for stealing her husband or something, even though I was just a helpless little girl.”, Emmarie stated with a very saddened, whisper tone in her voice.

“I’m so sorry to hear that Emmarie. I will say this, whatever happened wasn’t your fault. You were a child and children can’t be held accountable for what adults choose to do to them, even if the child agrees. And I’m not saying you did but, I am saying even if that WERE the case, it still was his fault alone and you hold zero responsibility. Do you understand that?”

” I do. And I didn’t agree to it anyway. I cried. It started when I was only 6. And lasted until he died when I was 11. But I still get what you’re saying. Like when teenagers who have relationships with adults often get blamed too and it’s not on them. The adults in the situation know better and should have done better as they are responsible for making the right decision in the matter. A child can’t consent so, therefore holds no responsibility, EVEN,  if they say yes.”

“That’s correct Emmarie. You are a very smart young woman.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Um. So. I guess I’ll get into what happened now. Um. Well. He would like, mess with me. Down there. He even went all the way for the first time when I was 9. And it became a regular thing too. He would make me mess with him too. With hands and um well mouth too. I don’t think I need to give details, I’m sure you can put it together. It was horrible. I hated it and it hurt when he went all the way. I wanted to tell my Mom. But he said he would kill me. I know now that I should’ve told and he would be in jail and couldn’t kill me. And would probably still be alive too. But there’s nothing I can do about that now. So yeah. Um. Yeah. I’m sorry. Is that too much?”

“No Emmarie. Thank you so much for opening up to me. I know that had to be really hard to do. Have you ever told anyone this?”

“Just my imaginary friends.”, Emmarie said with a nervous chuckle.

“Well I feel honored you felt comfortable telling me this. And I look forward to helping you work through this trauma and reach a point of healing and peace.”, the therapist said with a sympathy giggle.

“Thank you. I want that too. And just saying it out loud to someone has really helped to be honest. Like I feel a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders.”

“I’m so glad to hear that.”

BBBEEEEPPPPP. The timer sounded loudly and Emmarie felt a little sad. She had more to say and running out of time felt like a gut punch. But she knew in only a short week, she could come back and speak more and maybe even more freely since she had let the hardest part out. Therapy was the best decision she had ever made and she was looking forward to all the positive things her new life would bring!

“Uh oh, times up. I’m so sorry we have to stop here. I wish we could talk more. I really look forward to keeping this conversation going next week if you’re up to it, Emmarie.”

“I definitely will be. And I have even more to add to it as well. Today was so relieving and I can’t wait to relieve even more. Thank you so much for listening and letting me get all this out. See you next week! Bye Mrs. Smith!”, Emmarie said enthusiastically as she walked out with a smile and feeling accomplished and ready to face the world!

“Can’t wait! Have a good one Emmarie!”

“You too!”

The door shuts and echoes down the hall. Then silence fills the empty space. If only walls could talk. So many secrets have ricocheted off these walls. But so many hearts have been healed.