"What would you like to talk about today?"
I survey the neutral beige walls of our school's counseling room. When I signed up for a session, it seemed like a good idea. Now that I'm actually here, it feels almost embarrassing. Who comes to therapy just because of a breakup?
"I've just been feeling really lonely lately," I say. That's the only way I can really describe it. "And I feel like I don't really have anyone to talk to."
The counselor, Ms. Kim, nods slowly. She's Korean but she looks nothing like my mother. Her hair is wavy and her eyes are round and wide. She looks a lot nicer than my mom but doesn't everybody?
"I'm glad you're here," she tells me. "So what do you think has been making you feel this way?"
I press my lips together, reminding myself that her job is to not judge me.
"I broke up with my boyfriend a few weeks ago. We've been together for about two years. Well, we were together for about two years. I just really miss him, to be honest."
"Why did you break up with him?" she asks.
I breathe in deeply. "His cousin kissed me. I didn't want to kiss him. He forced me to. I didn't tell him because their family has just reconnected and they're basically best friends but I felt so guilty lying to him that I broke up with him."
She tilts her head to the side slightly, listening. "You didn't tell him because you wanted to make sure his family stayed peaceful?"
"It sounds stupid, I know," I say. "But it was just a kiss. I didn't want to overreact."
"From what I'm hearing, this kiss wasn't consensual. Why do you think this would be overreacting?"
I let out a light breath. "I don't know," I admit. "I think I'm kind of used to people telling me I'm overreacting and being too emotional."
"Your family?" she asks.
"Yeah," I say.
"Has your family ever made you feel as though your emotions are not valid?"
I scratch the back of my neck. "I mean... sometimes. That's just how they are, though. It's normal."
"Emotional abuse is not normal," she says softly.
"Abuse?" I repeat. "I don't know if it was... That's a strong word."
She looks at me, eyes soft. "No one has the right to make you feel as if your feelings don't matter."
My head dips. "I mean, I'm the one responsible for my actions. There's no point in blaming someone else."
"Do you find yourself trying to take responsibility for other people's actions? Putting other people's concerns above your own?"
My face wrinkles slightly at the thought. It sounds too narcissistic to say I agree. Still, my mind flickers to the different experiences I've had with people.
With Jaden, I always offered my notes and helped him even though people at school would spread rumors about me. For my parents, I always blamed myself for my grades, internalizing their harsh words. For Marcus, I took time to help him study even when I had a busy schedule myself.
Even with Zack, he never asked me to try and "protect" him but I did anyway. Maybe that was worse than confiding in him.
"I want to be a good person," I say. "And when I help others, it makes me feel like less of a burden on them."
"Do you think that talking about your emotions to people burdens them?" she asks.
"No one wants to hear about me being sad," I say with a bland smile.
"Then, how have you dealt with these emotions?" she asks.
I haven't.
"I hang out with my friends," I say. "Sometimes I go out to parties."
"Do you drink or smoke?" she asks. My eyes flit around the room and she adds, "Everything you say is between you and me."
I bite my lip. "I drink sometimes."
"Would you say you drink a lot?" she asks.
"What qualifies as a lot?" I reply.
"Have you ever drank to the point where you blacked out?"
I look down, which seems to be enough of an answer for her.
She nods slowly and moves on. "Amelia, when is the last time you did something for yourself?"
I crease my brows. "Well, my relationship was for myself. My parents didn't like us together."
"But you worried about confiding in him about your feelings?"
I press my lips together. "He had a lot on his plate. I felt guilty asking for more because he already gave me so much."
She looks into my eyes, her voice soft as she asks, "Why don't you show yourself the empathy and care you show others?"
I scratch my arm, dipping my head. She doesn't wait for an answer, just smiles.
"This week, I want you to take some time for yourself. Maybe buy yourself some new clothes or go for a walk... Whatever you like. Do you have any hobbies?"
It takes me a while to think. All I've done since starting college is study, work, and try to hang out with people when I have a chance. I'm not sure if those count as hobbies.
"I used to write," I say. "But I stopped having time once I got to college."
"Take 30 minutes out of your day and just do it," she says. "When you feel sad, try not to drink and instead, take some time for yourself. Don't feel guilty. Remember you deserve this."
My hands intertwine as I take in her words, trying to stick them in my memory.
"Thank you," I say.
"You're a great girl, Amelia," she tells me. "You just need to realize that yourself."