Tessa's Escape to Athena's Ground(13)
“Honey, thank you.” Tessa didn’t think her stomach could handle a scone, but some warm tea with sweet honey might be soothing.
After a few quiet sips, Carmen broke the silence.
“You read our Description of Services and Therapeutic Mission?”
It was the first page of the sealed green packet and Tessa had indeed read it. In fact, she’d almost grabbed her bag and run for the door. Only the thought of another trip, a final trip, to the ER stopped her from bolting.
“Yes.”
“What questions do you have?”
Where to begin? Should she start alphabetically, with ‘Are you freaking kidding me?’ or cut right to the chase, with ‘Is sex therapy even legal?’ Tessa opted to cut to the chase.
“Is what you do here legal?”
Carmen sat her tea cup down and looked into Tessa’s eyes: direct, unwavering and serious. “Nearly all of our clients ask us this, so forgive me if my response seems a little practiced.” Carmen leaned back into the plush cushion of her lavender chair and began the story of Athena’s Ground. She told Tessa that it was established by two women whose lives were both very unlike each other’s and also, very much the same. Like Tessa, they had crushing emotional and sexual experiences and found traditional counseling less than effective. “Our founders were women of financial substance, and they used their resources to create a safe place for women to explore their emotional and sexual needs.”
It sounded wonderful, to Tessa, but it didn’t answer the question, and she softly said as much to Carmen, who smiled in response.
“You would be paying for talk therapy, some held in a clinical setting and some not. You would be paying for transportation, accommodations and miscellaneous costs, such as food and entertainment. You would be paying for the time our field therapists spend with you. No one, not you and not any Athena’s Ground client, ever pays for sexual activity per se. While we encourage sexual activity, we charge the client for the time spent, not the activity that occurs: if our client declines to participate in the sexual aspects of therapy, that has no effect on the costs incurred.”
Carmen locked eyes with Tessa. “Let me be very clear. Our field therapists are not prostitutes. They offer their physical expertise and their emotional intelligence as part of a therapeutic plan to help our women overcome sexual issues. Clients are free to take advantage of it, or not.” Carmen’s voice was calm, but stern. Tessa thought, part mother and part drill sergeant.
“I meant no insult,” Tessa said, surprised that her voice no longer shook. “I understand, then, that my field therapy may become physical, if I allow it to be. Otherwise…”
Carmen nodded. “Before that point, we’ll have spent a good amount of time in a more traditional therapeutic setting and mode. You and I, if you decide to join us, will spend time, right here in this office. I’ll get to know you, and you’ll learn about me. You’ll come to understand what makes Tessa tick, emotionally and sexually. I’ll learn the same, and with that knowledge I will design a field therapy plan.” Carmen’s eyes softened, and the part mother emerged. “Tessa, I will assign field therapists that have the skills and personality best suited to challenge, but not overwhelm, you. The goal is to push you to discover your emotional self and physical sexuality, in a healthy way.”
Tessa had spent months with a grief counselor and had several sessions with various psychiatrists. She understood traditional talk therapy. What she didn’t understand, and what still scared the bejeezus out of her, was ‘field therapy.’