No, Rachel, you’re doing it wrong.
You’re too loud. Too rowdy. You shouldn’t go out at night. You shouldn’t wear that dress.
Rachel, how could you do something like that? Didn’t I teach you to wait for your husband?
Rachel blinked rapidly, trying to shut out the memories. The critical voice in her head. The voice of the woman who was perfect and graceful to everyone. Everyone but her.
Because Rachel couldn’t do anything right. Rachel wasn’t ever going to be able to do things the way they were supposed to be done. Rachel would never get it right. Ever.
She’d tried to kick against it, to rebel, and in the end she was the only one who’d been hurt. And she’d come out the other side trying so hard to be better. Trying to keep herself from being too big...too loud...too her.
She was trying so hard not to be herself.
The dam that was holding everything in, that had been holding it all in for years in spite of the mounting pressure, finally burst.
A tear slid down her cheek.
The first tear in years. And now she didn’t think they would ever stop.
She walked over to the bed, clutching her chest, her shoulders shaking as the dam burst on the past ten years of emotion, held so tightly in her, in a tight, heavy ball that she’d resigned herself to carrying around inside forever, broke open and poured out all over the place.
She wondered if you could drown in your own tears. She was seriously afraid she might. Or at least that she might die from not being able to catch her breath. Every attempt at breathing became another sob, until she was gasping, shaking and having a complete and utter breakdown.
Maybe this was what happened when you kept it all in. Maybe the breaking point was inevitable.
She was certainly broken. No question.
She was dimly aware of the bedroom door opening.
“Rachel?” Alex’s voice, her name followed by a sharp curse. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay? Are you okay?”
“I can’t do this, Alex!” Her words came from somewhere deep inside of her, came out without her having a chance to even think them first. She only felt them.
“Yes, you can.”
“No, I can’t. I can’t...ever do things the way they’re supposed to be done. I mess them up. When I feel too much I make mistakes and when I...when I don’t feel at all I feel like I might as well be doing nothing at all. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know how to love a child, and follow my heart, use my emotions, without making bad decisions. And if I...if I keep on like I have been and just don’t care...then what’s the point? I can’t. It’s too hard. I’ll mess it all up, I know I will.”
His arms were around her, holding her close, his lips on her temple, fingers laced through her hair. Their last confrontation, the angry words, didn’t evaporate, but for the moment they were on hold. “Rachel, you can do this. You can.”
“It’s a lie, Alex. It’s always been a lie. I’m not perfect. I hide all these pieces of myself, and I don’t show anyone. I don’t know how to give everything because I’m so damn afraid of it. Because if I do...it still won’t be good enough. It won’t ever be good enough.”