The Boyfriend (The Camgirl Part 3)

Part XXXIII: Dr. Cardaso

Blake

Blake let out a deep breath as she sat down on the plush, comfy couch, and forced a smile across the table at the therapist. She found it hard to truly relax or get comfortable.

"So, Blake, is this your first time in a therapy session?"

Blake shook her head and looked the therapist up and down.

Dr. Cardaso was a plump woman in her forties with dark skin, and hair without any grey in it despite the crinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. She wore a dusty blue pencil skirt and jacket over a white blouse, with a light-charcoal infinity scarf topping it off. Blake knew that the choice of clothing--both the color lack of any pattern--was meant to be calming and neutral, like the sage green walls and the few plants dotting the room.

"My mom and my high school made me see a therapist when my dad went to jail."

Dr. Cardaso was very good at her job. Not a hint of surprise, judgement, or pity on her face. Just understanding and compassion.

Why does that still make me uncomfortable?

"Is that something you would like to talk about?"

Blake shook her head again, "No. Not yet, at least. I have a few more...pressing things I would like to talk about first."

Dr. Cardaso smiled, "That's fine. What would you like to talk about, then."

Even though Blake had already committed this far to therapy, she still had to force the words out. They sounded so immature.

"I want to work on opening up to my boyfriend. It's...hard for me to do that in general, but I want to move forward with him and make sure he knows the real me instead of just a face I put on for everyone."

"Well, let's start with that, then. Can you describe the 'face' you put on?"

Blake took a deep breath.

"I don't think it's that different than what everyone else does. It's the one that disguises how much of a mess I am--that says everything is okay, things might even be good, or great. And..."

Blake paused for a moment, "I don't put that on all the time in front of him. I've let him see me when I've been in a bad place, or told him or asked him for help when I've felt awful."

"But you don't feel that's enough?"

Blake shook her head, "I know it isn't."

"Has something he's said made you hold back? Or even just a way he may have reacted without realizing?"

"No. He's really wonderful. I'm already a lot to deal with, and I made sure he knew that before we started dating, and we had one misunderstanding, but he's been really great so far."

"Can you tell me a bit more about what you mean by that? Most people who are more self-aware can think that they're 'a lot to deal with', as you put it."

Blake sighed, "I'm a sex worker. A cam model. Before we started dating or doing anything physical, I told him it was something I was going to keep doing, and that if I quit, it wouldn't be because of him."

She let the statement hang in the air, waiting for the judgement, or the "ah, I see why you need therapy" look.

Dr. Cardaso just nodded and gave her a tight smile, "That's not something a lot of men are secure enough in themselves to deal with in a relationship. Was the misunderstanding you had over jealousy?"

Blake shook her head, "No. I--"

Her throat tightened at the memory, and Blake had to close her eyes and take a deep breath to banish the feeling of how gross and uncomfortable in her own skin that encounter had made her.