DEJI
“So…Deji and Ivie, may I ask why you are here?”
The way she said the why was what made Deji exchange looks with his wife. It was obvious why they were in the office of a marriage counsellor, wasn’t it? Their ship was sinking, they were drowning, they needed a life jacket or an anchor.
“I know it’s a strange question, but I never like to assume I know my client’s intention. Hearing from you clearly will establish expectations.” Dr Amber said.
She was an attractive woman, Deji noticed. Younger than he had expected. Somehow he had thought that someone who counselled married couples and possibly helped save their marriage, would be in their fifties or more. Dr. Amber was in her early to mid-forties, sporting a Rihanna-style haircut with blonde highlights. He could tell she was a woman who took her appearance seriously, dressed in tailored grey pants and a baby pink blouse, her legs were crossed as she sat facing them, a notepad in front of her, a pen poised in her hand.
Deji looked at Ivie, indicating that she respond to Dr Amber’s question.
“We want to work on our marriage,” Ivie replied, taking the bait.
Deji noticed that his wife had dressed up for today’s appointment. It occurred to him that he very rarely saw her dressed up. Being a stay-at-home mum meant she lived in shorts or sweatpants. Today however, she was dressed in a dress he hadn’t seen her wear in a long time. It was a dress he had bought for her during their last vacation to France – three years ago.
She had on one of her Brazillian wigs (he wasn’t sure, they all looked the same), and she had put on some makeup.
“And you?” Dr Amber asked, gesturing towards him with her notepad.
“I guess the same,” he said.
“You don’t sound sure,” the doctor said.
“He isn’t,” Ivie said.
“I see,” Dr Amber uncrossed her legs.”Well, I don’t think I can help you then.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Deji asked.
“Seventy percent of the couples who come to see me who don’t know what they want or who like you are ambivalent about the outcome often walk out of here worse than when they came in.”
Her words gave Deji pause. Before now, he wouldn’t have used the word ambivalent to describe how he felt about their marriage. He wanted it to work, of course he did. Didn’t he?
“Okay, I want to fix my marriage,” he said.
Dr Amber smiled, a wan smile. “A marriage is not like a broken toilet that a plumber fixes, and I am not a plumber. You know why? You both are going to do all the work necessary to leave here with the results you desire.”
For a moment Deji felt like a schoolboy that had just been scolded. He decided that Dr. Amber reminded him of his mother-in-law and he wasn’t sure how that made him feel.
“So, shall we start?” Dr. Amber’s demeanour shifted; gone was the stern woman and in her place was someone warm and interested. “I want you to know that whatever you tell me here is absolutely confidential.”
Deji and Ivie nodded solemnly.
There was a tense silence in the car as they drove to pick up the kids from school.
Deji hadn’t expected counselling to feel like picking at open wounds, he hadn’t expected to dig deep and sweep out dirt from corners of his heart that he’d previously kept hidden.
It made him feel dirty and liberated at the same time.
He couldn’t look his wife in the face, and he felt her constantly stealing glances at him from the side of her eyes.
The session had started off mildly after Dr. Amber’s disclaimer. They had talked about the easy stuff, it had been like a get-to-know-you session until Dr Amber had asked why they had gotten married.
Actually, she asked why they chose each other.
“Notice my word choice. Why did you choose each other? Because you had other options and yet you picked each other as your significant other. So what was that thing that made you convinced that he, she was the one?”
Ivie had looked over at Deji indicating that he go first.
Deji cleared his throat trying to buy some time. The truth was he couldn’t remember why Ivie was his choice. Because she was out of his league? Because she fit the profile of the kind of woman he wanted? Because she was beautiful? All these reasons seemed mundane and selfish.
“Um…” he started, stopped. “Um…”
“Wow. Is it so hard to remember why you chose me?” Ivie said, bitterness hardening her voice.
“Should we give you some more time to think?” Dr Amber asked.
“Yes, please,” Deji couldn’t look at his wife.
“Okay, Ivie why don’t you go instead?”
“He was different from the other men around me. He made me feel seen and somehow I knew he would make a good father to our kids.”
“What do you mean when you say he was different?”
“Well, most of the men I hung around were party boys, they liked a good time, they had stuff and money to show off so much so that it made them arrogant and blind to my feelings. Deji wasn’t that way. He was down to earth, a little shy, nervous and sweet.”
Hearing her speak made Deji ashamed. It was like he was seeing himself afresh through her eyes; or well, through the eyes of young Ivie. He wondered what she thought about him now.
He dared a look at her but she was looking straight ahead. He wanted to reach out and touch her but he decided against it.
“She was different too. I didn’t date much but when I met her, I knew she was unique. She was so smart that I sometimes found it intimidating but that was what intrigued me about her.”
“Why did you propose to her?” Dr Amber asked.
“Because I didn’t think I would meet someone better who loved me for me. She was the best person I knew.”
It was true. He had been in awe of Ivie, of her brilliance, her job (she was a doctor), her articulation, her self-awareness and her beauty. She was confident, whereas he was a man seeking validation from his father, trying to live a life that measured up to what he always desired. The fact that she loved him was surreal and in a way it gave him the validation he needed. He wasn’t a nobody trying to be somebody, he was a man loved and wanted by this beautiful and brilliant woman.
“And now? Do you think you still feel the same way about each other?” Dr Amber asked.
Again, Deji looked at his wife, took in her elegance and poise and wondered about this question.
“I need you to dig deep and be honest with yourself. Counselling only works when we are willing to ask and answer the hard questions.” Dr Amber said. “There’s no point lying to yourself or each other about a truth that exists. This is a safe space, remember that.”
“To be honest,” he said. “I don’t know.”
Dr Amber nodded, noting something in her notepad.
“And you, Ivie?”
“I still think highly of him.”
“But what do you feel?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged.
“Good. Because love is not a feeling, it is a choice. That’s why I started the question asking why you chose each other. Choices are more solid than feelings. Choices are tangible where feelings are fickle and fleeting. Yes, you might not feel love towards each other in this moment, but the reason you chose to come here is borne out of the choices you made years ago.”
“So what does this mean?” Deji asked.
“It means there’s hope.”
As Deji thought back to the conversation, he wondered if this was what hope looked and felt like: awkward silence.
Were they supposed to talk about what they talked about in counseling or were they supposed to lock up their thoughts and opinions until the next time they saw her? Were they supposed to pretend that they had not just ripped the band-aid off and that their wounds were not beginning to bleed?
