» Giant Steps: The Book of Dawn - 4
Giant Steps: The Book of Dawn - 4
Giant Steps Chapter Segments
Chapter (Cont.)
Prior to our next session, Dawn called. I barely recognized her voice, even after she identified herself A soft, humming quality permeated her words. "Where do you usually Option with people?" A direct question. My first response, though accurate, was just a bit too glib. "Everywhere. Wherever I ask questions with a loving and accepting attitude. In the kitchen. At school. On a subway. In the park." Her forced laughter protested the commentary. I then described a favorite place; a little one-room glass house sitting on top of a hill behind the house in which my family and I live. My daughter, Thea, our impish eight-year-old resident artist, lettered a sign for the building as a surprise gift for me. Delighted with her own handiwork, she taped it squarely in the middle of the front window. "Big Bear's Happy Option Home ... love Thea." Dawn wanted her next session on the hill. I agreed, although I had developed a fondness for the park as a place to explore and share.
When she arrived on Wednesday, her face seemed sallow again. Looking around like an interior decorator, Dawn affected a haughty British accent. "Not bad, my dear Kaufman, but certainly not great. So this is where you do it. Not as middle class as I thought it would be. I give it a B minus." Dropping the pose, she pointed excitedly at a photograph of a war-weary soldier, vintage early 13th century, holding an infant in his arms. "Wow, is that you?"
"No. But I took the photograph. It's a favorite of mine."
"Oh," she smirked, "some hidden talents." Tapping the typewriter on a side table, she asked: "Do you write your books up here, too, or just rent yourself out for secretarial work as a side-line. No need to answer, wouldn't want to embarrass you." She ground her teeth absentmindedly. Her eyelids fluttered nervously.
"Where do I sit?"
"Wherever you want," I suggested.
Dawn dropped heavily onto the couch opposite me, threw her shoes on the floor, and placed her bare feet theatrically on the coffee table between us. Her toes quivered, dancing to a hidden electrical current.
"Okay, Kaufman, I'm ready."
I nodded.
She ground her teeth together again before speaking. "I wanted the session here because I feel more serious about it." An awkward smile rippled across her face.
"What do you want to work on? Is there something you're unhappy about?"
"You get right to the point, don't you? Let's talk about fat."
"What about fat?"
"I can't stand this any more," she said, fingering the flesh around her waist. "I can't stand the way I look."
"What is it about your looks that upsets you?"
"I'm unattractive. Nobody gives me a second glance, except Noah, of course, and that's like being desired by a leper. What a sh*tty way to be."
"What do you mean?"
"It's like with Allen. We've been friends for years. He always tells me about his love-life problems with Tina or Lisa. I'm like his sister, and a go-between. He never once looked at me the way he looks at them."
"And how do you feel about that?"
"f*cking miserable."
"Why?" I asked.
"Then all I do is end up thinking."
"What do you mean?"
"I keep thinking about when I wasn't fat and when I wasn't alone."
"What about that time, Dawn?"
Her hands rubbed her thighs nervously. She kept wetting her lips. "Well, I might as well go through it. If I don't do it here, I'll do it when I leave. About two years ago, I met this boy, Jonathan. He was older than me, had great looks ... something very special about him, at least I thought so. We went out several times. The petting got pretty heavy, I got scared, but he wanted to go further, to do everything. He said it would be all right. All I could remember is how much it hurt. He seemed cold afterwards, said I wasn't very good at it. I couldn't stop crying. I asked him to talk to me, but he just walked away. I know you're going to think this is stupid, but I went to him the next day and told him I'd be better, that I'd read this book on how to make love. He smiled - boy, what a sucker I was for a smile - and said he'd give me another chance. I must've been out of my mind. Begging him to do it. Well, I lied to my mother that weekend so I could stay out until twelve. We parked along Shore Road. And," she stopped. Her voice quivered. "And, he put on the inside dashboard light. I was too scared to ask him what he was doing. We both pulled down our pants and he pushed it into me. It hurt so much, I thought I'd go out of my mind. I tried to move up and down like the manual said, but he had me pinned against the steering wheel. I kept praying it would be over." As Dawn talked, tears flowed down her cheeks. "He kept pushing against me. Finally ... finally, he stopped. Suddenly, oh God, I realized there were faces pressed against the windows of the car ... familiar faces!" She moaned. The cry erupted from some dark, hidden place. The blood drained from her face as she hyperventilated.
"Dawn, watch me," I said, as I cupped my hands in front of my mouth. "Breathe into your hands, like this. Go ahead, it'll help you catch your breath." In a couple of seconds, she regained control of her breathing.
Crying, pounding her fist on the table, she continued. "You know what that bastard did? He had invited his friends to watch... that's why he put the dash lights on. The rest is such a blur. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill myself." Dawn stood up and leaned against the glass door. "Two days later, right in front of the school building, he tried to apologize. Do you believe that? It's like saying, 'Gee whiz, sweetheart, I'm sorry I cut your throat.' So I kicked the bastard in the balls."
"What about that experience disturbs you most right now?"
"I think ..." She stopped herself, swallowing noisily. "Every time I think about it, I hate myself I got sucked in so easily. I'm so damn gullible."
"Why is that disturbing?"
"I asked for it. Literally, I did. I even went back for more. That's scary."
"What's scary about it?"
"Kind of proves the point, doesn't it?" Dawn concluded.
"What point?"
"My mother's always worrying about me like I'm an idiot, always reminding me. And she doesn't know half of it. Oh, God, there's got to be something terribly wrong with me."
"Do you believe that?"
"How else could that have happened?"
"What do you think?"
"Anyone who'd let that happen to them can't be all there. A screw is missing. Something's out of whack."
"What do you mean?"
"I can't quite explain it," she said, "but I scare myself."
"How?"
"I keep going over that incident with Jonathan. No matter how I try, I can't make it all right ... like I'm sick or something." Clasping her hands tightly over her eyes, she continued. "His f*cking smile. The dashboard lights. Those squashed faces against the window." Suddenly clenched fists slammed on the table.
"Why are you so angry?"
"I hate them, I hate them, I hate them, I hate them, I... hate me."
"Why, Dawn?"
Tears flooded her eyes. "Why didn't I know? Why didn't I see it coming?"
"What would your answer be?"
"Oh, no," she yelled, waving her hand, "it's a little too pat to say I was a dumb thirteen-year-old, naive and all that sh*t."
"Why is it too pat?"
"Because there's got to be something more, something wrong with me," she insisted.
"Can you find that 'something'?"
"No."
"Then why do you believe it's there?"
"I don't have any reasons. I just do."
"I don't have any reasons. I just do."
"Sounds stupid, doesn't it? But I still feel unhappy about it." She sighed.
"What are you afraid would happen if you weren't unhappy about it?"
"Oh, Christ, maybe then I'd do it again, get taken again and again."
"Why do you believe that?"
"I don't know. I can't ever forget how I felt, how I hate him."
"What are you afraid would happen if you did?"
"It's the same answer. Then it might happen again."
"Are you saying by being unhappy or in pain, you somehow protect yourself from letting this happen again?"
"Yes," she said, "if I let it be okay, then maybe I won't be as careful as I should."
"What are your reasons for believing that?"
"I don't know. I really don't."
"Do you think you can be comfortable with yourself about what happened and still watch out for yourself?"
"I'm not sure."
"You want to think about it?"
She closed her eyes and spoke in a whisper. "I guess I could be relaxed and still take care of myself. I know much more now, especially right now"' A faint smile creased her face. "It Is getting clearer and clearer. It's just amazing!"
"What is?"
"To realize maybe I don't have to be unhappy or angry and drive myself crazy to take care of myself. To know, when I took a look, there really wasn't anything wrong with me. Really, that's weird. I kind of feel free. It's not scary any more." She stretched like an infant just awakened, filling the room with a loud, throaty sigh. Her arms grabbed at the space around her, then fell completely relaxed by her sides. No fluttering eyelids. No quivering toes. "We sure moved a long way from where we started. What does all this have to do with my being fat?"
"What do you think?"
Dawn laughed.
Dawn laughed.
"Uh huh! I just realized I've been heavy for almost two years. I started gaining all the weight not too long after that night with Jonathan. I guess it connects, but I don't know how. Can we go through it again?"
"Sure. What is it about being fat that makes you unhappy?"
"That I won't be attractive."
"And why would you be uncomfortable if you weren't attractive?"
"Then boys won't ask me out."
"And how would you feel about that?"
"Awful. Because then I'd be alone. sh*t, we've come a full circle; we're in the same place!"
"Are we? Before you said that when you were alone, you thought about the incident with Jonathan and how painful it was. Right now, if you were alone, would you still be thinking about it?"
"No. And if I did, the pain's gone. It would be okay to be alone now."
"Then if fat meant unattractive which meant being alone - and now being alone isn't an unhappy place any more, would you be unhappy about being fat?"
"I guess I wouldn't. But that doesn't mean I want to be fat. I still want to be thin."
"Sure, but there's quite a difference between them. Being unhappy about being fat is trying to move away or run away from what you fear. Focusing, doing what you can to be thin, is moving toward what you want. Away versus toward."
"I understand what you said, but as I listened, I realized I can't really see myself thin."
"Why not?"
"Maybe my metabolism has changed."
"Do you believe that?"
"Not really."
"What are you afraid would happen if you were thinner?"
"Nothing. Well, that's not true ... I mean I didn't say the first answer which popped into my head. I was going to say prettier. But that's stupid. Why would I be afraid of being prettier, especially since that's what I've said I wanted all along?"
"What might be frightening about being prettier?"
"It's crazy. I just saw myself thin - a lot of guys would start asking me out."
"What about that would frighten you?"
"Oh, wow! The more invitations, the greater the risk of getting sucked in again."
"Do you believe that?"
"No, not any more, not now." Tears filled her eyes. "I see. I see. So Jonathan and my fat are very much connected. What a crazy way to protect myself"
"Crazy? I don't think so. Painful - perhaps, Remember what I said to you that first time we talked? That we each do the best we can? Maybe now that becomes clearer. Your anger, your fat, represented the best way you knew how to take care of yourself."
"I don't want to do it that way any more," she said. "I don't need to do it that way any more. I feel so, so un ... un-angry."
The intensity of her smile energized the room. Her clarity dazzled me. Sometimes we dismiss the insights of a child or teenager because of his or her age, but whether we're five, fifteen or fifty, we all know. To witness that 'knowing' come to life is an awesome experience.
"Dawn," I said as she put her shoes on, preparing to leave, "you once said you didn't think you could make it all right, that you were sick or 'something'. Perhaps, from what you've discovered for yourself today, you can know there is nothing sick or unapproachable or unchangeable in any of us - not in you, not in me. Those are just beliefs, judgments; they're only true as long as we believe they're true."
"Thanks for today," she whispered.
"There's no thank you due to me, not in the way you might mean it. Whatever happened for you today, you did. I could tap your shoulder to show you a sunset. If you were busy, you might just ignore it. But then, again, you might turn and be thrilled by a glorious sky. Well, what you did when you watched the sunset, you did for yourself. If you turned, you chose to turn. If your body tingled, if you felt joy, that's how you responded to what you saw. All I did, all anyone can ever do, is tap you on the shoulder."
Her eyes glowed. Her lips parted in slow motion, but emitted no sounds. She kept nodding her head. Very quietly, she left the hilltop house.
Entry in Dawn's Diary, June 10
Can't possibly describe my session with Bears yesterday. I feel so different, so high - higher than I ever felt on grass. Hope it lasts. Wanted to tell him at the very end of the session, but I couldn't bring myself to talk about it. My voice disappeared. I knew it wouldn't make a difference to him (I hope not), but I still wanted to say it. Maybe next time I'll be ready. Funny how he's always ready. Last night my mother did her usual hysterics bit. I did a really weird thing - a first! Instead of screaming back, I just felt like kissing her, which is exactly what I did. She looked at me flabbergasted (I think that's how you spell it), then stormed out of my room. This morning, Noah stopped me in the hallway before my second class. You know, if you really try, you can find some clear skin between all those pimples. He kept asking me if anything was wrong because I treated him so nice. I pushed myself to watch Karen get off the bus this morning. I still have trouble looking at her. I think she has the same problem because she never looks at me either. Chris said Jill isn't pregnant. Who cares!
Entry in Dawn's Diary, June 14
Finally made up my mind about the hilltop house and called Kaufman today. Switched my sessions back to the park. He never asked why, but I wouldn't have told him anyway. I think I say too much on the hill. Thought about Jonathan today, it's weird to feel so different - finally!!! I let Noah kiss my nipples. He's so darn serious that I couldn't keep a straight face. When I kept laughing (it tickled), he said I blew his concentration. You'd think he was taking a test. Jill's nauseous again, everybody - she's a regular one girl soap opera. They invited those dancers back to our Humanities class. I couldn't watch that girl, the one who was so special and terrific last time. Kept looking away. Told Mr. Jenko I felt sick, spent the rest of period with Tina and Chris in the lunch room.
