Our mother tucked the fantasy novel under her elbow and walked right out of the room without another glance.
“I can’t…” I shake my head, tears pricking my eyes. I don’t like this answer. Take it back.
“Lily,” Dr. Banning says but I’m still shaking my head.
I see all the years flash in and out. I see each of my sisters suffocating, being silently molded by a mother who just wants the best. I see me being free of that. But why does it hurt? It shouldn’t fucking hurt.
“It’s stupid. It’s so stupid,” I complain and touch my hands to my eyes.
“Lily,” she says slowly. “You have to let it in.”
“Let what in?”
“The pain.”
My bottom lip trembles and I just keep on shaking my head. “It’s stupid.”
“Why do you think that, Lily?” she asks fervently. “Your pain isn’t worth less than anyone else’s.”
“You don’t understand. I shouldn’t feel this way.” I point to my chest. “I have money. I come from a privileged life. I refuse to throw a pity party for myself.”
“You can’t refuse to feel hurt just because you think that you don’t deserve to feel it.”
I don’t know if I believe her. I think I should. “My sisters got the raw deal,” I say in defense, my cheeks stained with tears. “I got off.” No controlling mother. No piano lessons or ballet recitals.
“You never give yourself a break,” she tells me. “You’ve never given yourself a chance to feel. Do you understand?”
The emptiness. I guess it’s where that pain should be.
“It’s just you and me,” Dr. Banning says. “I don’t care about your last name. I don’t care about what your sisters went through. All I care about is you, Lily.”
It takes me a few moments to gather the strength to start talking about the thoughts that unsettle my head. A couple tears fall onto my hands and I manage to say, “When I was really little, my mother used to put me in classes like she did the other girls. Art. Singing. Piano…Everything.” I bite my lip, nodding to myself as I remember. “I lasted about a day in each. I just never picked up talents like Poppy and Rose.” I pause and cringe at my own words. So what Lily Calloway? You’re not talented. You don’t need to cry about it.
“Keep going,” Dr. Banning urges.
I shake my head now, but the memory continues to spill. “When the school sent me to remedial math in third grade, I think that was the last time my mother paid attention to me. I wasn’t sociable and congenial like Poppy. I wasn’t smart like Rose.” I wipe my eye. “And I never grew tall and beautiful like Daisy. I think…I think I was something she wished she could return. Like a generic handbag. But she couldn’t. So she just acted like I didn’t exist…”
She let me spend nights at Lo’s. Let me do whatever I wanted. And that freedom turned out to be as suffocating as her control.
“I never felt like she loved me,” I mutter under my breath. “I never felt worthy enough.”
I shake my head again. I don’t want this to be the answer. It should be something more. It should be a horrific, life-threatening event. Not these stupid feelings.
“When are you going to stop punishing yourself for what you feel?” Dr. Banning asks me.
“I don’t know how,” I choke
“You’re human, Lily. You hurt just like the rest of us. It’s okay.”
I nod now, changing course a little. I want to get there. To allow myself to feel pained by my childhood without feeling irreparable guilt at the same time. I just don’t know how to compartmentalize these emotions. How do I bear the hurt of being lonely without hating myself at the same time? Because my sisters would have given anything for the freedom I had. Because the world would give anything for the life I was born into. I feel selfish and stupid. Worthless and pathetic. Ugly and used.
Sex made me whole again.
One time turned into two. Two turned to three. And then I just couldn’t stop.
Dr. Banning passes me a box of tissues and I pluck a few from the carton, blowing my nose and trying to compose myself.
When the quiet lingers, I say, “I don’t want that to be the answer. No one will understand.” I’m some girl who decided to fill the emptiness in her heart with sex. Neglect and loneliness drove me to this place. A single choice to start and then the inability to stop.
“I understand,” Dr. Banning tells me. “Rose will understand. And in time, your family will too. You just have to give people the chance, Lily, and you have to learn not to be ashamed of how you arrived here. It’s not your fault.”