by Brent, Amy
Amber kept her eyes darting between Mandy and me, probably scared she might be hit or worse. “I started dating him last December, but I found out he was seeing other women too. After that, I realized he was a player. I followed him one night before I broke it off with him. He hooked up with a girl at Roxy's Club. That was proof enough for me that he was a scumbag.”
Mandy became red-faced. “When?”
“It was December the eighteenth. I remember it distinctly because I had a big meeting the next day at work. I called in sick.”
Mandy began to cry. “Really? I was dating him then. He had planned to take me to Idaho to see my family, but then he canceled on me two days before we were supposed to leave.”
The women comforted Mandy, and she realized that both she and Amber had been played by that cheating liar. Unfortunately, Jackson had been with many women while he was seeing Amber and Mandy at the same time.
I smiled at the camaraderie of the women who supported one another. We went around the room and heard lots of stories about men and what they'd done. Some of the women who hadn't experienced it were dumbfounded by what they heard. It was clear, some men were like that, and often women couldn't see it coming. This was mainly because the men who played were on the outside seemingly lovely guys. They used kind words, gave exaggerated praise, and bought these women gifts as well. It was a sad but real fact of life, and Mandy and Amber began to talk without provocation. Both of the women understood how hurt he'd made them both feel.
Mandy wiped her tears. “I'm sorry, Amber. I thought you must've known I was dating him. When I saw your pictures on Instagram, I nearly choked.”
Amber smiled a kind smile. “I know how you feel. I felt it when I watched him with the woman behind Roxy's. He literally did her up against the wall and then came to me that same night. I told him I was tired and feeling sick. I was devastated.”
I allowed these women to leave with Nicole, and go somewhere away from the group so that I could continue the session for the other women. They also had needs, and it was unfair to focus on these two who needed to process through the issue.
“Wow,” said Shona. “Those women must be so happy to sort that out. My husband left me for another man, so it was a bit different for me. I wondered why he never wanted intimacy. I had believed that something was wrong with me. It's not fair when shit like that happens.”
The other women nodded in agreement, and we each began giving a statement about something that had hurt us in the past. When it came to me, I spoke candidly, which built trust within the group.
I spoke and told my own truth. “Six years ago, I broke up with the love of my life because he thought I cheated on him. I didn't, but in his mind, he believed I did. So that was that. If he didn’t trust me, that was on him.”
The woman next to me waited for silence before taking her turn. “I once made my best friend steal some expensive clothes when we were thirteen. She got caught, and I didn't. Last year, I told her I was sorry, but she won't talk to me.”
The next woman spoke. “I’m still mad at my dad for leaving Mom and me. We reconnected last year, but I still have animosity. I can't seem to forgive him fully.”
We all listened to the statements as they went on around the circle. The camp had sixteen participants, plus Mandy and Amber, who were in a private discussion in another room.
I smiled at all of the women for being so candid. “I want you to pat yourselves on the back for bringing honesty into this room. What we've discussed here today is private, and we need to keep each other’s anonymity sacred. You know that you wouldn't want other people knowing what has been touched upon today, so let's all make a pact to keep these conversations a part of our memories.”
“I don't mind telling people anything. I think it's helpful,” said Franca.
“I don't want nobody knowing my business. I hate that gossip crap,” added Jacinta.
“Me too,” said Sally in agreeance.
I waited for the women to be silent again. “We are all different in how we think and behave outside of this camp. But regardless of our uniqueness or differences, we must keep other people's truth sacred. It’s their personal story, and some of you might not care if it's on the news, but others of you still need your privacy. So, let's respect that so no one is injured or scarred more than they may have already been, especially on an emotional level.”
“Amen!” said Sally.
“Yep,” added Jacinta. The group nodded, happy that the camp was a safe space to talk.
“Okay, so everyone has had hurts in the past. Some have had disappointments. Some have been holding guilt in for a very long time. You might even feel sad, lonely, depressed, frustrated, or even angry about your past.” I let my words sink in. “But, the purpose of this camp is to realize that the past is there as our greatest teacher. It allows us to see that we might not go through an experience like that again. The future is not here yet, but we know what things we did, or that were done to us. And these can have an impact on future events. So, what is the answer?”
I watched hands go up. “Yes, Dina?”
“I think we try not to make mistakes again.”
“Okay, good start, but sometimes others do things that we can’t control.”
“I know,” said Jacinta, excitedly.
“Yes?” I asked.
“We are the ones who are in control of how we feel about something.”
“Yes, keep going,” I said, encouraging her more.
“Well, if we think something is good or bad, it’s only our thoughts about it that make it true. Sometimes, we need to think about if it's really right for us or not.”
I smiled. “Yes, Jacinta, that’s right. Let me add something to your insight. There will always be people, places, and things that make us feel a certain way. Good, bad, jealous, angry, frustrated. A whole myriad of emotional things, including your past or your perceived future. Life will have challenges. If you connect yourself to the present moment and feel your feelings about a certain thing, then you are using your inner compass.”
“Intuition?” asked Dina.
“Yes, but not some woo-woo weird kind that means you're a psychic or an advanced medium, but the kind that tells you whether or not something is right for you.” I paused as I thought of an example. “Okay, imagine you’re in a parking lot and you see a strange car. Your stomach might get knots as you look at it. You can't explain it, but you know the feeling is there.”
“Oh yeah, I've had that happen,” said Sally.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“I got in my car and drove home. I didn't feel better until I had a shower. It was kinda creepy.”
“Okay, anyone else? Raise your hands.”
All of the women raised their hands, which always happened when I brought this scenario up. We all had an inner knowing that was there as a compass to give us insight.
“Okay, good. Now, looking back on past hurts and situations, how did you feel back then, in those moments?”
“Absolutely crap!” exclaimed Melanie.
“Horrible!” added Myra.
“I knew something was up,” said Dina.
I waited for all of the women to realize it. They might've never recognized it before now. They had all known the feeling of it when it was occurring. They had all been so focused on the past or what the future might hold that they’d missed it. They had missed the signal that had been begging them to get it.
“If you stayed in the now, in the present moment, all of the time, then how good would your inner compass be?”
“It would be perfect!” said Fiona, her face lighting up. “Oh god, it's so blatantly obvious.”
I laughed. “Yes, it is. You wouldn’t live in the past, either. But if no one ever tells you, how do you know?”
The women talked among themselves, and I gave them a break before I brought them back to reflect upon the day. It was a wonderful day, and Mandy and Amber even exchanged phone numbers. Nicole felt
relieved that we'd been able to cope with the drama.
When I got home at five, my phone rang. I didn't recognize the number, and I was hoping it wasn't anything to do with the wiring in my house. The landlord was hell-bent on trying to have the whole system done at my busiest time of year. I was trying to get him to put it off for a few months.
“Hello, Lindsey speaking.”
“Hi, my name is Ben. I've heard about your day camp for women, and I was wondering if I could schedule a meeting with you. I run Balanced Discipline at the rec center. We just opened.”
“Oh hi, yes, sure thing. My camp finishes at four thirty tomorrow, so we could meet up at Franco's Restaurant and chat there tomorrow night. Say seven?”
“Awesome. I look forward to talking with you. I have some PTSD survivors, and I think they might be able to use your skills or insight.”
“Great, I'll see you then.”
“Thanks for meeting me so soon. Franco's at seven. I'll be wearing a blue sweater.”
“I'll be wearing a pink blouse,” I said, trying not to laugh at what sounded like a first date type of meeting.
“Sweet. Bye.”
“Bye!”
I changed out of my work outfit and relaxed under the warmth of the shower. I’d enjoyed an exhausting day, and tomorrow would be another one. But I loved my work and helping PTSD survivors was something I knew I could do. I could help anyone, really. The concept I worked with allowed for it. Stay in the present moment and let life flow.
I had a weird feeling wash over me in the shower. It felt a bit like déjà vu. It would come to me when I least expected it to, whatever it was. I was dog tired and trying to know what it might be in that state of mind was silly. I ate Chinese takeout and went to bed. Tomorrow would be another big day, I would get some much-needed rest.
Ben
“Shit, that was a long day,” said Paul, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“I know, they seem to have so much energy sometimes,” I said, feeling a bit exhausted from the day, myself.
“I wonder how many more will give me shit like that Trent guy did. I had to try and hold my tongue when he got overly cocky.”
“Man, I hear you. We want them to understand it's not a competition. But it's like trying to cook a steak without any heat when they act that way.”
“That's the worst damn analogy I've ever heard, can't you come up with something a bit more—”
I ignored him. “I have an appointment with Lindsey from the women's camp. Tonight.”
“Oh shit, she's got the most extraordinary name ever—not! Lindsey isn’t the best name for you, man. But if you're lucky, she might change her name for you.”
“Very funny. It's for our camp, you twat. I'm not going to get with any chick no matter what her name is. I've been there and done that. I got burned. No thanks. Pick another guy to fuck with. I'm single and not gonna mingle,” I said.
“Fuck, well how will you get your kicks?” Paul laughed loudly at his own words.
“I have a hand, and I have tissues. No emotional bullshit and no drama.” I smiled wickedly, knowing it would prick up his attention.
His face gave me the look it always gave when I’d said too much. “Whoa, please never say that to me again.”
“Never is a long time!”
“Fuck! It’s just the thought of you doing that. I can’t even deal right now.” We both laughed and made our way home. It had been a long day, answering a billion questions and working physically during the training as well.
I was happy that Jacob was staying with Mom again. It was going to be a regular occurrence on weekends. He'd stay overnight so that they could spend time together. I was grateful Mom was helping out. They got along so well, and she spoiled him rotten as all grandmas should.
* * *
When I got to the restaurant, I sat down and waited at the bar. I was early because being an ex-Navy SEAL made you be on time, or even early if circumstances allowed. It was all part of being disciplined and respectful. I found that it was still something I did out of habit. But, it wasn't a bad thing. It was morally good and meant that I could get comfortable in my surroundings before the meeting with Lindsey. Shit name—but that was just a coincidence. I couldn't really blame the woman for her parents' choice in that regard.
The restaurant was nice. I hadn't been there before, and I found the furnishings to be warm and inviting. The décor was reds and browns, and the lighting was the orange type, softening the place with a subtle hue to give it that cozy feel. It was like a metaphor for the only way I wanted to feel from here on in. I had already lived all the drama I needed and wanted to. I’d done it with my ex-wife, with my ex-girlfriend Lindsey who cheated on me, and within my role as a Navy SEAL.
I looked at my watch. Ten to seven. She'd be here soon.
I knew that women were allowed to be “fashionably late,” and I never really understood the concept. But, I knew I was looking for a woman with a pink blouse, so I kept my eyes peeled. So far, there were only four women in the place, one wore an orange dress, another had a black sweater, and the other two had light to medium blue blouses on. She wasn't here yet. God, it would've been hilarious if someone else walked in with a pink blouse, and I'd introduced myself, and then it turned out to not be her. I hoped that wouldn't happen. I didn't want to meet any women except for business reasons. My heart was still raw from the recent past, and I needed to sort out the fricken divorce paperwork. We'd already split the savings, and the house was military housing, so she couldn't take half of that. Bitch.
I sent a text. “I'm waiting at the bar.”
“I'm right behind you!” said her text, almost immediately.
A tap on the shoulder caught me off guard, and I swiveled on my cool, plush velvet, bar stool; the one that had extra padding for customer comfort.
“Hi, are you—”
We both stayed silent. Fuck, it was my ex, Lindsey. Shit. I looked at her more thoroughly. I couldn't believe she looked so good. Her brown hair was slightly longer than I remembered, and those big blue eyes sparkled in the glow of the soft lighting. Those curves were still there, in all the right places, and her breasts pushed through the fabric of her light pink blouse. It was hard not to notice.
“Um, I don't know what to say,” I said, knowing our ending had been quite traumatic, even though it had happened six years ago.
“Me neither. I can go if you like.” She paused for a moment. “But if I stay I might need some alcohol,” she said, trying to stand as non-awkwardly as she could.
“I hear you. Let's have—”
“A cocktail,” she added, happy to order one for both of us.
It was surreal sitting beside her. The words we'd said to one another had been quite horrible. I wasn't sure if it was possible for us to get along again. I’d called her a whore, and she’d called me a bastard, among other things. She'd sworn up and down that she hadn't cheated, but it had been the last straw for me. She'd broken my heart into a billion pieces. I didn't know how I was ever going to recover. I was as tough as nails in the Navy, but that was work. I'd let my heart open up to Lindsey, and it had been a big mistake. I was sure she'd slept with him, multiple times. Idiotic Chad. Fuck that narcissistic, stupid jerk-off. I was still mad about it, even after six years. It seemed to be my luck that women cheated on me. I couldn't understand why.
“This is so weird,” she said, sipping through her green straw.
“I know. Um, I really don't know what to say, but I think these cocktails might break the ice for us.”
She smiled. “You were a jerk, Ben.”
“What?” I said, confused by her reasoning. “Really?” I added the question to make her answer it.
“Chad told you those things on purpose to break us up. He was always jealous of how close we were.” She smiled awkwardly. “Anyway, let's talk about the camps we run, shall we?”
I took a sip of my cocktail, getting rid of the funky pink straw and fluorescent yellow umbrella.
“Sure, you go.”
“Okay, so I run a day camp for women that focuses on healing using the outdoors and discussions that bring these groups of women together, despite their differences in past trauma, hurts, or self-confidence. We use painting, hiking, yoga, meditation, and connection to nature to be in the present moment. By the end of the day, most women know how to bring the focus into the present. The past can be utilized for growth, and plans for the future can be expressed, but the main goal is on the here and now.”
I looked into her big blue eyes. The passion I'd felt for her all those years ago was still there. But I had to keep my professional distance despite the rawness my body felt from being next to her.
“I run a survivalist self-defense training camp. It's a weeklong thing. We do survivalist training on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and self-defense classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. We cater for all levels. Paul has been amazing.”
“He always was amazing. Wow, it's neat that he and you have a business together. I'd heard you both joined the Navy.”
“Yep, but not the regular one. We got into the Navy SEALs. I just got out, and Paul did too, about a year before me. I wanted to come home. I didn't expect to see many old faces again, though.”
“I look old?” Lindsey asked, giving a cheeky grin. It was clear that the cocktails were beginning to have an effect on her. I was feeling warmer than I had before we'd started drinking them.
“You broke my heart, you know. I was madly in love with you when you left.”
“You were?” I asked her, confused about it all.
She giggled. “Aha. Captain Taylor!”
“I'm not a captain. That's funny, though.” I smiled at her and felt her eyes on my body. She was taking me in like I was a sea breeze she wanted to enjoy.
Her eyes moved to mine, and a hundred different feelings flowed through me. Feelings I'd buried and held deep inside. I wanted her, and I knew by the way she kept crossing and uncrossing her legs that she wanted me, too. Fuck. I hadn't expected to feel this way.
“I reckon we might need an Uber. We can go to my place for coffee and saber up.”