Wednesday, February 28th
Sophie
The door to the office opens, and Dr. Winters peeks her head out, her mouth curving up into a smile when she sees me. “You ready, Sophie?”
I toss the Cosmopolitan magazine back down on the coffee table in front of my chair, sling my purse on my shoulder, and push to standing with a nod to follow her into the office.
It’s a routine I’ve done many, many times, and I still get butterflies in my stomach every time she pushes the door to a close behind me with a click. It’s not that she’s not an incredibly nice person—she is—and it’s not like I’m here because my life is a disaster and everything is falling apart either.
I’m lucky. I’m fairly happy. I have friends and family, and I don’t have cancer.
And that’s a fuck of a lot more than many people can say.
But I hit a bit of a dark spot a little over six months ago after my grandmother passed away, and when I went to my regular doctor for a checkup, she recommended I start seeing Dr. Winters too.
It’s not that big of a surprise that Mimi’s death hit me the hardest—we were by far the closest out of all my siblings, and when I really look back on it, I can see that she was actually one of my best friends.
I had to find a way to cope, and rather than binge drinking and obsessing, I decided to give therapy a try.
Dr. Winters has been there for me for a long time, even if I haven’t gotten the guts to tell most of the people in my life about my standing Wednesday appointments with her.
“Can we normalize putting a magazine other than Cosmo out there?” I say by way of greeting, smiling to take the sting out of my words. “That’s seriously, like, the worst option I can think of if you’re trying to build women’s self-esteem.”
Dr. Winters laughs as she takes her seat, picking up her pad and pen from her side table and pretending to scribble on it, dictating, “Patient shows signs of disproportionate anger for magazines.”
I roll my eyes but laugh. “Okay, maybe I have a little bit of an attitude today.” Dr. Winters smiles her annoyingly knowing smile, and I sigh, mocking, “And why do you think that is, Sophie?”
My therapist snaps the fingers on both of her hands like maracas. “Ah, yes! My plan to live inside your head is working! I love when you can self-actualize a question before I have to.”
I shove my body back into the couch and consider my answer. There’s obviously been a ton of stuff going on in my life over the last couple of weeks, and I figure that’s as good of a place to start as any.
“Well…Belle got married this last weekend. And I’m, like, so, so happy for her, you know?”
Dr. Winters nods. “But?”
“Buuut…I don’t know.”
“You don’t know, or you don’t want to voice it? Because there’s a difference.”
“I just…you know I came here about my grandmother’s passing, right? Not for relationship advice.”
“Sophie, you spent three sessions talking about your sweet Mimi, and I enjoyed them immensely. But you’ve spent the last twenty or so talking about relationships. You drove the conversation there, not me. I’m just providing whatever guidance I can in the situation.”
I gulp a little. “Have I really been talking about wanting a relationship for that long?”
Dr. Winters smiles. “It’s not all you talk about. It’s just a big part of your life. Which, quite frankly, is understandable. You plan weddings for a living. You live it, day in and day out, and I have to imagine that makes it a little harder to forget about. That’s why I’m here. To help you.”
“I guess I just really thought I’d be married by now. And seeing Belle…” I pause, trying to think of the word. “Achieve it?” I shake my head. “That sounds so stupid.”
Dr. Winters raises her eyebrows but says nothing else, so I continue to babble. “I’m happy she’s happy. I really am. And John is a great guy. I don’t know that I would have been a good fit for him, but Belle is. They work, you know?”
“And watching Belle makes you want to have it for yourself?”
“I don’t know that it’s really Belle.”
“So, just weddings in general? You feel like everyone in the world is finding it but you?”
I shake my head. “Other than my sisters, I’ve never really been to a lot of weddings, personally. Like, outside of work, I mean.”
“Okay, so maybe you got too close before? Someone special in a past relationship that you really felt was the one, but it didn’t work out?”
I shake my head again. Frankly, I’ve never really dated anyone I considered marriage material.
“Okay. So, what is it that brings out the need in you? Societal demands?”
“No, I don’t think so. I mean, I’m proud of what I’ve built in my business, and I realize I might not have gotten to do it this way if I’d met someone sooner.”
I can hear myself, and I imagine Dr. Winters must be getting frustrated with me at this point. Hell, even I am. But for as enraged as she may be on the inside, she doesn’t show any impatience on the outside. Since I’m genuinely confused at my own complication, it’s greatly appreciated.
“So, what’s the missing link here? What drives you?”
I shrug, fiddling with my fingers as I try to deep-think, and admit, “I’ve always pictured myself as married. As a little girl, I dreamed of weddings. I thought I’d have my own by now. It was in my ten-year vision, but…that was fifteen years ago. Honestly, I know what I’m looking for in a man, and I eliminate the noncontenders right off the bat. It should be saving me time.”
“Sophie, life doesn’t manifest like an Erin Condren planner. It’s messy. Unexpected. Usually drama-filled and ass-backward. You’re going to have to open yourself up to going on some dates with men who might not be Prince Charming.”
“I don’t see the point in dating people I know aren’t prospects for a long-term commitment. What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s judgmental. And shortsighted,” she says, her tone of voice somehow gentle enough to keep me from feeling bad. “Would you buy a house based on what it said on the listing, or would you actually do a walk-through beforehand to see what it was really like?”
My eyebrows pinch together. “So, men are houses now?”
“Sort of.” She grins. “You’re looking to set up shop…stay there for a while with both, right? Maybe the vinyl siding is faded, but the inside’s got a hundred-thousand-dollar reno, girlfriend.”
“You should start an app.” I grin cheekily. “HGTV meets that dating app TapNext.”
“I’m just saying that you can’t know the heart of a person until you spend at least five minutes in their presence.”
“What do you suggest I do, then? Because I’m trying, Dr. Winters, really. I’m willing to meet men. I’m willing to get out there. I want it.”
She considers me closely before leaning toward me again and tilting her head to the side. “Is that really true, Sophie? Are you really putting yourself out there? Because you just said before that you eliminate men who aren’t contenders right off the bat?” I frown as she continues. “What if you’re eliminating them too soon?”