Grayson Reid Jansen

I can't believe I'm doing this. I inhaled deeply and put my shaky fist to the door, ready to knock. Only, before I could, Dr.Judy West opened the door with a smile on her porcelain face.

How excited she was scared me. Like, she just knew she was about to experience some sort of fantastic breakthrough.

"Hey, sorry I didn't make an appointment. I was just hoping we could talk," I started the conversation.

The smile never left her plump face. "I told you it's on me. Come in, I've been waiting for this," she said sweetly.

I walked past her and stepped further inside the room. It wasn't what I expected and I laughed through my nose. "Aheh."

"What," she asked me, giggling as she sat down and put her glasses on.

I looked around more. "No couch?"

"No," she said in short at first, "very cliche. Just two very comfortable chairs, if that's alright with you, Mr.Jansen."

I hunched my shoulders. "You're the professional. And please, call me Gray or Grayson. Mr.Jansen is my father," I told her.

"What's wrong with your father, don't you want to be like him?"

"We're starting already? Okay," I ran my hands down my knees as I sat back in the chair.

"Comfy enough," she tested me.

I chuckled, "Yeah, it's fine."

"Back to the question?"

I swallowed and vibrated my lips. "He's great, yeah."

"You don't want to be like him?"

"Not really, no? I mean, it's a a little late for that, I think."

She tilted her head at me and nodded for me to keep going.

"We're nothing alike. I never had a good relationship with him, or a bad one. He's my dad."

"What about your mother? How was your relationship with her before she passed?"

I gulped again, feeling my throat getting tight and dry. "Uh," I hesitated to answer, "good. I guess? We were close before Colson was born, but she always treated Holland better. She wanted me to be like my Dad, be a doctor, settle down, that bullshit. Of course I never listened. She just pressured me so much I started to-"

"Resent her? Is there a certain memory, or time, that you remember feeling negatively about her?"

"Can I be honest," I breathed.

"Of course," she responded right away and put her notebook down.

"I told my parents this woman at summer camp one year. She, uh, kept saying these things to me and touching my ass. I was a kid, I thought it was cool at first, having an older woman hit on me. Then, I turned sixteen and when she came onto me I knew it was wrong? I told my mom and she just laughed. Her and my dad said there's no way she wanted me since I was just a kid and that as a 'man' I basically can't be sexually assaulted. So, I didn't think it was sexual assault. I just shrugged it off and buried it under the rug."

"Do you think because of what they said, you normalized and internalized that behavior? Trauma can do that to you. Grayson, you were taken advantage of, but at least you were aware that is was wrong and told someone. I'm sorry they didn't believe you."

I nodded stiffly.

Dr.West asked another question. "Did it stop, or what happened after you told?"

"I stopped going to summer camp. But... there was another woman - my mom's friend."

"What happened?"

My leg started to shake. "She hit on me and asked my parents if I could be her pool boy. When I told them I thought the whole thing was weird they just laughed and told me she was a good woman. I went to her house and..."

"And what, Grayson? It's okay to talk about it, you can trust me," she assured me. I laughed awkwardly and denied the tissues Doctor Judy offered.

"She said my mom told her I'd been having sex and worried I didn't know what I was doing. The woman said she could teach me things and I let her— I let her do things to me. With me. Things I had no business doing at that age, especially with her."

Dr.Judy removed her glasses and comforted me.

"I'm so sorry. Who is she, do you want to-"

"No. What's done is done, and I'm not gonna snitch on her after all these years. Just, I feel like— I don't know how I feel."

"It doesn't matter how long has passed, you can still come forward with this. She's a predator, Grayson."

"That doesn't matter now," I barked and stood to pace behind the coffee table with my hands on my hips.

"Your sister mentioned at dinner, something about a girl. Bre-uh, I think?" She mispronounced my ex's name.

"It's Brea. What about her?"

"Is she older, too?"

"No."

"Hm. Well, that's a good sign. What happened with you two, sounded pretty bad?"

I sat back down, ready to reopen that can of worms.

"It's a lot. And frankly, I don't want to talk about it," I told her.

"It might help," she urged me.

I blew air from my cheeks and tossed my head back, groaning.

"How long do we have, is this still free?"

"Grayson," Dr.West reeled me back in.

"Okay, okay-"

***

I went on to tell Judy everything about Brea and I. And no, I didn't leave out my mistakes. She agreed it was a lot to take in and dissect, I wished her good luck with it.

"And lately, I've been having these nightmares about the woman again. I didn't have them a lot when I was with Brea, now they keep me up every night," I vented. I looked over to Judy while I laid across the chair.

"Grayson, from what I've heard, I think I know what the problem is here," Dr.West said.

I sat in the chair properly and waited for her to lay it on me.

She sat upright and cleared her throat before speaking. "Given your sexual history with the woman, I think you were exposed very early to unrealistic ideas of sex and you seek fulfillment twenty-four/seven, without fail, from your partner. This is very narcissistic and self-focused, you don't understand your partner's priorities and needs. This leads to looking for intimate relations elsewhere. I.e. the cheating."

It took me a while to process that but I pondered the theory. I mean, she was a professional so I'm sure she knew what she was saying.

"And about the dreams in regards to your deviant behavior, perhaps it's just you acting out early traumatic experiences like the neglect you felt from your parents, and the... sexual abuse. These wounds, Grayson, would have left you feeling unable — err, unwilling — to commit to yourself or another person. This also means, as I mentioned, seeking sexual intensity beyond your partner as means to self-medicate or escape from your emotional, and psychological, pain," she observed.

I gulped and sat back, completely mind blown.

Out of nowhere, a timer went off.

"I'm sorry, Grayson, I wish we could continue this but my client will be in any second. If you wish to have another talk, please feel free to schedule an appointment," the psychologist let me know. She stood and began to rush me out.

"Appointment? Aheh," I spat as I reached the door.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, "I hoped this meant something. Good luck with everything."