“Work is always there for you, it doesn’t let you down like people,” and with that statement it told the therapist a lot about her patient. She was a workaholic. That was obvious. She had this driving need to succeed and her reputation as a first-class bitch was well established. Her business acumen which she stated was due to Ryan’s brilliance; Nancy felt was down to Ellen’s own innate skills and genius. There was no doubt in her mind that her patient was brilliant, but tended to give too much credit to others instead of owning it herself.
“Yeah, I hadn’t done the dishes fast enough and I was sitting on the couch and he started yelling at me. I should have known,” she shook her head in remembrance as they talked another session through.
“What should you have known?”
“That he had been drinking. I couldn’t smell it on his breath but he was acting the part.”
“Did he hit you?”
Ellen nodded as she flashed back to the scene. It had been bad. He couldn’t seem to stop himself that time. She had been curled up in a ball to protect herself from his blows. Her legs cramped and lashed out, beyond her control. They caught him squarely in the ‘bread basket’ knocking his breath out of him. He flew across the living room and hit the wall. They were both surprised, stunned really. Ellen recovered first and got up and ran from the room, he ran after her swearing, but she was too quick. She hid very well until he sobered up and ‘forgot’ the incident.
“And how did it make you feel to actually strike back?” Nancy asked.
“I hated it,” Ellen replied to Nancy’s surprise.
“It didn’t make you feel better that you protected yourself?”
She shook her head. “I felt like I was stooping to his level. It was an accident, my legs cramped. It didn’t make me feel better at all.”
Nancy nodded in understanding. “He didn’t recall the incident?”
Ellen shook her perfectly coiffured head. Her telling of these incidents in her life was in direct contrast to the expensive business suit she was wearing. The child she had been was long gone. “He took revenge in other ways but that was just because he was mean, not because he remembered.”
These stories and many like them concerned Nancy but from what she could see Ellen was a true survivor. She just needed to trust again and that would be difficult.
“But why do you think his friends and even this Sheriff,” she consulted her notes. “Worley, didn’t help you if they knew of the abuse?”
“Because then they would have had to take responsibility for their own inaction. They refused to see it because their ‘friend,’” she made the quotation marks again. “Owen was their drinking buddy, their bowling buddy, their pal. He wasn’t much different than them, and they didn’t want to see their own imperfections so they ignored what they didn’t want to see.”
And the questions and deepening emotions went on and on, week after week and at first Ellen was certain it wasn’t working, it was a waste of her time to see the psychiatrist. After all, she told Ryan the same stories and he hadn’t heard as much as Nancy and given her better advice. Then at some point, it all changed. She realized she was angry. She was angry at her mother for dying. She was angry at being blamed for it all. She was angry at being demeaned, humiliated, and potentially molested by her father and his friends. The whole abuse made her angry and she exorcised it all in these sessions with Nancy. She became a healing balm as Ellen realized how much she had bottled up over the years. Nancy didn’t judge her, she merely questioned her, helped her vent. Nancy didn’t suggest things that would fix the problems, she let Ellen come to them on her own. Their discussions were insightful, thoughtful, and Ellen could feel a mantel coming off her shoulders.
“Do you think all of that is why you are unable to have a successful relationship?” Nancy asked her one day.
Ellen was angry at first over the question. It proved she had spoken too freely to Nancy. That she had opened up too much, and given away too much information about herself. Nancy nailed it though. She hadn’t been able to give of herself to others as much as she wanted. It was why all the girls, all the problems that she saw or created in her own mind, kept her from trusting them fully. They couldn’t understand what she had gone through. They weren’t allowed to know the ‘real’ Avril Ellen Christenson. She’d kept many of them at bay through her lightening quick wit or her sharp tongue. Arm’s length was as close as any could get and they had to go if they did try to get closer, tried to get deeper.
Taking personal responsibility for her adult relationships was a difficult task. At first she wanted to blame everyone else, to blame her father for his inability to get past the booze and to get past the blame game. To even blame her beloved mother for leaving her with that monster. Yes, it had been a difficult childhood. Yes, he had been a terrible father; he should not have had children in her opinion. She wouldn’t be here or been there for him to abuse if he hadn’t been responsible for her conception. Since his death which she had to admit she had contributed to, she had to step up to the plate and own the fact that she had treated most people badly. She also had to accept that her actions and her ability to make the women who had come into her life feel so bad simply because they tried so hard to love her and receive her love in return was something she ‘HAD’ to overcome.
As she came to realize how much she had blown away over the years and how many she had blown off, she began to reconcile in her own mind how she might have done it differently. That gaping hole her mother had left in her heart, began to heal. She forgave her father for his weaknesses. She didn’t forget, she merely forgave him for her own soul, so it too could begin to heal.
Once she forgave herself, she called many of her old girlfriends for whom she still had phone numbers and apologized for how she had treated them.
“What is this? Some kind of joke?”
“Are you in some twelve-step program?”
“You’re kidding right?”
The questions continued as she tried to make amends, they didn’t believe her; and then Rae answered the phone.
“Hello?” her sweet sounding voice came through the line.
“Hello Rae, it’s Ellen,” she said quietly, and crossed her fingers that she wouldn’t hang up on her. Some had and she couldn’t blame them. To those she sent a short note, personally written and signed to apologize for what had happened between them. She kept it deliberately short, but deeply felt. She hoped they too could begin to heal for the way she had treated them.
“Ellen?” she asked confused, not sure she recognized the voice. “Ellen who?” she asked suspiciously. It couldn’t be…
“It’s Ellen Christenson,” she said sadly. She had known that this phone call would be one of the hardest. She hadn’t had to make any of them, but felt the need to atone, to explain, and ask for forgiveness. Even if none of them forgave her, at least she had tried. Perhaps they too could move on. Each phone call had made her feel a little better, a little less heartbroken, as she analyzed how badly she had treated them. This phone call though, this one was one of the hardest.
“Ellen? Oh my God, what in the world?” Rae asked confused.
“I know, it’s been a long time,” she said sadly.
“You could say that again,” Rae said cautiously. She began to wonder why, out of the blue, that Ellen Christenson would call her of all people. She had seen her of course, who wouldn’t as she had been on the front of magazines, many times she saw her at the check-out counter of the local market, plastered on the front covers, her latest brilliance, her latest amour along with her.
“I know. I’m probably the last person on the Earth you would want to hear from.” She mentally beat herself up a little, and tried to recapture the pride she once held so dear so she could get through this phone call.
“To say I’m surprised is a bit of an understatement,” Rae agreed. This had to be some kind of trick?
“I’m calling to apologize to you. I realized how wrong I was to treat you the
way I did,” she tried to keep it simple. Going into explanations had brought on disparaging remarks from the others. Some of them had the need to take a little revenge on her, and while she accepted that, it didn’t help with the apologies. To be honest, she didn’t really remember what she had done to each and every one of them, but she apologized anyway.
Rae had never heard Ellen Christenson apologize for anything, ever. It was confusing. Then it hit her, WHY Ellen would be calling. “Are you okay Ellen? Is everything all right?” she asked with genuine concern in her voice.
Ellen nearly cried at hearing the compassion in her ex-girlfriends voice. She didn’t deserve it. Rae had been nothing but kind. Loving, wild, bold and beautiful, she wanted nothing more than to please Ellen and be pleasured by her. Ellen’s eventual rejection when she got too close, when she got too loving, had hurt her deeply. It had hurt Ellen too but she couldn’t think of that now. “I’m fine,” she said in a tight little voice.
Rae recognized that voice. It set her hackles up. “I was just asking,” she returned in her own tight little voice.
“No, nothing is wrong,” Ellen tried to sound sincere. Since her epiphany, she had beaten herself up enough that making these phone calls was her final way to let go of the past she had created.
“This doesn’t seem like you,” Rae said gently. She had forgiven Ellen a long time ago, realizing that she had to be the way she was to get the most out of her business and to stay at the top of her game. She didn’t need the distractions of a girlfriend who needed her to be human too.
“Yeah, I know. I’ve changed a bit,” she said, without bitterness.
“I’d say so if you are apologizing for something that happened years ago,” Rae said, with a small laugh which soothed the sound of her words.
Ellen grinned wryly. She’d missed the sound of Rae and her laughter. It had been what attracted her to Rae in the first place, that and her fine mind. She remembered seeing her at some party in the city, her laughter had been like honey to a bee. “Well, I just wanted you to know how deeply sorry I am for the way things ended. For what I did, or rather didn’t do in the relationship. I really didn’t mean to hurt you.” They both knew that last part was a lie; she hurt people all the time. It was part of doing business. Even relationships were part of that standard modus operandi with Ellen.
“I’m glad you called Ellen,” Rae said quietly as memories assailed her. Not the bad ones, only the good. Ellen, when she was good, was very good. Loving, kind, loyal…and passionate.
“I am too Rae,” Ellen returned just as quietly. She sighed inwardly. There was so much more she wanted to say to this woman, but only to this woman and she really didn’t know how. She was still too flawed to fix it. Maybe she would never be able to. “Well, I did what I called to do. I’ll let you go now…” she began to get off the phone. She didn’t want to bother her.
“Do you really need to go?” Rae asked quickly, and then wanted to kick herself for sounding hopeful.
“Well, I didn’t want to bother you,” she repeated her thoughts aloud.
“Are you sure you are okay Ellen?”
Ellen smiled. It was so nice when someone cared like that. Rae had always cared and been thoughtful. “How have you been Rae?” she asked to deflect the question away from her.
“I’ve been busy…” she began and before they knew it, they had spoken for nearly an hour.
“So are you seeing anyone?” Ellen finally got up the nerve to ask.
“No, how about you?”
Ellen chuckled and shook her head as she answered, “When do I have the time?”
Rae laughed knowingly. She remembered it well. Still, when Ellen had found the time, it had been very magical.
“I’m glad I called Rae,” she said earnestly. She meant every word of it.
“I’m glad you called too,” she said softly and wanted to cry. She sensed that Ellen was going to get off the phone and she would never hear from her again.
“You take care of yourself, Rae,” Ellen told her and wanted to cry. She really wanted to ask her out again. After their comfortable conversation and knowing she wasn’t seeing anyone, but she knew she needed to heal. She needed to finally grow up to the position she was in.
“You too Ellen, you too,” she said gently, sensing her withdrawal.
“Goodbye Rae,” she spoke into the phone sadly.
“Goodbye,” she said and waited for Ellen to disconnect the call. When she did, she sat there for a long time listening to the dial tone until it changed to one that sounded raucous, before she hung up herself.
Ellen lay back on her couch and stared at the ceiling. Wondering at what ‘could have’ been.
Rae lay back on her bed and looked at the material covering her four poster bed, and wondered why fate had sent Ellen back into her life at this point, even if for an hour or so?
* * * * *
“How’s your sex life?” Nancy asked her.
“My sex life?” Ellen repeated stupidly back to her. She had just told her about trying to make amends to all the women she felt she had hurt. She had expected some sort of ‘atta gurl’ but instead this line of questioning confused her.
“Yes, how is it? Were you active with these women? Were you passive? Aggressive? What was it like for both of you?”
“You want to know the mechanics? The details?” Ellen clarified, a little testily.
“No, I want to know how you saw your sex life with these women?”
Ellen thought for a while. “I was in charge. Always in charge,” she told her honestly.
“Why?”
“Why?” Ellen frowned as she thought. “Because that’s how I liked it. That’s what worked for us.”
“For both of you or for you?” Nancy asked pointedly.
Ellen stopped to think. She thought for a while as she went over the mental list of women she had been with. “I don’t think any of them objected. I made sure they were satisfied,” she answered truthfully.
“Have you ever just let yourself go? Let someone else take charge?”
Ellen was beginning to get uncomfortable as she realized the direction that her therapist was going. “No, I guess I haven’t.”
“What about if it was something they really wanted?”
Ellen looked down at her hands. They were twisting. She steadied them. “I guess if they didn’t like how I wanted things, I got rid of them eventually.”
The therapist nodded her head. This was all making sense, another piece of the puzzle fitting into place. She could see that Ellen could understand it too. “What if you found someone who didn’t allow you to have your own way? Challenged you? Wanted more of an equal footing than what you normally allow?”
Ellen briefly thought of a couple of her past girlfriends, one in college that ‘took’ her virginity, and how quickly she had gotten rid of them, all of them, and shrugged. “I think I would avoid her because that’s not what I want in a relationship.”
“Perhaps you are afraid of giving up the control because of what your father did to you. What those friends of his tried to do to you by being condescending, patronizing, and misogynistic towards you. Their sexual innuendo and what they would have eventually done to you, angered you. From what you have told me, the thefts of your mother and grandparents things upset you.”
Ellen had to agree, but she was getting sick of this line of questioning and merely wanted to leave. It had opened a door though, perhaps a window, and over the next week before her next appointment she would think about it…a lot as she turned it over in her mind and self-analyzed.
* * * * *
“Do you think you have Philophobia?” Nancy asked quietly.
Ellen knew immediately what the word meant. She shrugged and then looked right in her eyes. Nodding slightly she replied, “I think I do have a fear of falling in love. I think I’m afraid to love, because they will turn on me. They will stop loving me.”
The therapist nodded encouragingly, hoping this d
ifficult client would continue.
“I think knowing there was nothing I could do growing up, he held all the power, knowing that my mother was too frail, I simply gave up trying,” she confided.
The therapist was amazed. Ellen rarely shared deep feelings and when she did, like this, it showed such intellect, such understanding of her own condition. She was even more astounded when Ellen continued.
“I think I’ve been repressing a lot of the anger all these years. There was nothing I could do about him, but I can do it about my own life.”
“You think controlling your own life…” began the therapist but was interrupted.
“I think I’ve always been a bit of a control freak. Look at me,” she gestured at herself. She was dressed in a sleek business suit. Many of the most elite stores in San Francisco would be thrilled at this executive’s patronage. “I’m wealthy, I’m fairly good-looking, but I run a multi-national multi-million dollar company…hell,” she corrected. “Multi-billion,” she said modestly.
“So, what are you going to do?” she was asked.
Ellen looked at her, her eyes darting between the therapist’s dark brown eyes. “I guess I begin to make amends in some small way.”
“You don’t think it’s another way of self-flagellation?” Nancy worried.
Ellen looked resigned and yet, the spirit was still there. “I don’t think so. I don’t owe apologies to everyone.” She had already started making amends, the many phone calls to women in her past had started her on a path she wasn’t going to look over her shoulder anymore.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
GOING BACK
“Ellen Christenson’s office, how may I help you?” her voice repeated the phrase over and over, many times a day, mostly to just take a message. If she didn’t answer the phone, the other secretary would, if both of them were on the phone taking messages or redirecting the call to keep Ms. Christenson from being bothered, it went to voice mail.
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