And Rebecca nodded, again.
“I think, Amanda,” she said, “That it sounds like there’s a disconnect between what you want, and what you think the larger world wants for you.”
I nodded vehemently.
“It’s exactly that. I want to be with Mr. Parker, I want to be with him, to love him, to have his babies, but the world wants me to be in school, to be single and a student, have a high-flying career and all that.”
Rebecca was silent for a moment.
“And you don’t see any way to reconcile the two?”
I shook my head.
“Of course not! How would I manage a career with a baby and a man? Remember, I’m from Central New Jersey, that’s sixty miles from here, it’s not exactly close. How in the world could I have both?”
Rebecca let herself smile a little then.
“A lot of women are in your shoes, Mandy,” she said gently. “I understand what you’re struggling with, how it feels like you have to make a choice. But the thing is that it’s not so black and white, there are many shades of grey.”
I was stumped. Of course there are many shades of grey in the world, I got that. So what in the world was she talking about? This psychobabble mumbo jumbo was making no sense.
“Are you telling me I should be a teen mom?” I asked slowly. “To drop out of school? Can you even say that, seeing that you work for the university?” I asked, gesturing to our room.
And Rebecca shook her head patiently.
“What I’m saying is that people often feel like they have to pick one path. They have to go right or left, choose between the blue pill or the red pill, but sometimes there’s no blue or red, there’s just shades of grey.”
Okay, back to this shades of grey thing, it was really getting tiresome. Also, was Rebecca really referring to the movie The Matrix during our session? I sighed. Maybe I should have asked for a real doctor, this was turning out to be a waste of time. But there were only twenty minutes left, might as well go with it.
“Okay, let me try to understand what you’re saying,” I began slowly. “There are many choices in the world, and maybe I’m too black and white, either school or no school, Mr. Parker or no Mr. Parker. But given that my parents have already paid forty thousand in tuition, what should I do?” I asked, staring her in the eye.
And the therapist just cocked her head at me.
“I can’t answer that, you know I can’t,” she said slowly. “But remember, many women juggle a relationship, marriage, babies and career at once. Even multiple kids,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “It’s not easy, I’ll give you that, it’s very, very hard, and many women are constantly afraid that they’re going to drop one of the balls, that they’re one second away from eggs splattering on the floor. But that’s not the point,” she said firmly. “What I’m trying to say is that it’s not easy to be female because there are so many ways our lives can unfold, so many different things that we’re supposed to want. But you don’t have to choose one thing at the expense of another. You have many options, many possibilities, and you can explore many paths at once.”
I was silent for a moment, digesting.
“You mean like take the red pill and the blue pill?” I asked slowly, new horizons beginning to expand in my head.
And Rebecca nodded.
“Maybe take both pills, or blend the pills together to make a purple pill, or look for an orange pill somewhere,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “The world is your oyster, that’s all I’m trying to say. What you’ve laid out is tough, I completely agree, but it’s not insurmountable. Just takes a little bit of work and elbow grease.”
And I nodded slowly then, realization dawning in my mind.
“I hear what you’re saying,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone. “I just thought that the whole image of the woman trying to juggle everything was someone middle-aged, like a thirty-five year old career woman with kids, a husband, who’s also a professional and a PTA mom.”
“That’s who the magazines usually profile,” nodded Rebecca agreeably. “But I don’t think that woman is so different from you. You’re younger, sure, so maybe it hasn’t quite started yet, but your plate sounds like it’s filling up pretty fast.”
And then I was really stunned. Because the counselor’s words were slowly seeping in, penetrating my brain, making some sense. I’d always thought that if I had a baby at eighteen, then life was over. If I dropped out of school, then I was a hopeless loser, my parents would disown me, I’d be done for, with no future, no career, just a down-and-out girl, barefoot with three kids living on hand-outs on the wrong side of the tracks.