Still not into you - Charlotte Byrd Page 0,63
moment when you’re no more. I’ve never thought about it, but that perspective makes Dr. Greyson quite an optimist about humanity. More of an optimist than I am, probably.
“When you first came here, Alice, I saw a broken, hurt little girl. Someone who was afraid to own her feelings. Someone who was afraid to listen to her heart. Someone who was, to a large extent, not very true to herself. Now, you’re a different person altogether. You have grown into yourself. You have gained self-esteem. You believe that you have worth and your feelings have worth. That makes me very proud, Alice. You’ve become quite a young woman, my dear.”
I smile. I want to jump out of my seat and hug her. Then…I do. I wrap my arms around her shoulders in a warm embrace.
“Oh my.” She laughs in surprise and then hugs me back.
“I hate to say it, but I think I’m going to miss you,” I say, sitting back down across from her. “Coming here hasn’t always been my favorite time of the week, but I think I really learned a lot from you.”
“I’m happy to hear that,” Dr. Greyson says. “I want you to remember that it’s not me that you have learned a lot from in this office. It’s through the process of reflection. I don’t mean to undermine my own credibility, of course, but it was you who has done all the work. All the work of looking back and examining your feelings and actions.”
I nod. She’s right, of course. Yet again.
“Well, I’m going to miss you anyway,” I say with a shrug.
“And I’ll miss you.”
I look at the clock. Our last meeting has come to a close.
“I hope that USC ends up being everything you’re looking for,” she says at the end of our session. “If you ever find yourself in New York City again, don’t be a stranger.”
Walking back home from Dr. Greyson’s office, I feel like I’m floating on a cloud. My feet don’t seem to be connected to the ground. It’s an amazing feeling to feel like someone, a stranger, is proud of you. My parents have always told me that they loved me and were proud of me, but now hearing it from a complete stranger, I beam with self-confidence. Dr. Greyson is right. I have made a lot of progress this semester. Everything that has happened has made me a stronger and more self-assured person at the end and that, somehow, made it all worthwhile.
I arrive at the auditorium where I’m supposed to give my speech, early as usual. There’s a line of nervous students backstage waiting to go on. The auditorium is filled with five classes of Public Speaking students. There have been two sessions of this particular kind of torture and this is the second one. Everyone backstage has been assigned an earlier time and the rest of the people who are going today are waiting in the audience. I make small talk with some of the others, but we’re all focused and not really into it. We’re all too focused and too nervous about the speech that we’re about to make. I’m the third one up and I look over my flash cards. I’ve written the speech in big letters with a lot of spacing in the words to make sure that I could see it well when I’m up there. I did not take anything to calm my nerves and I’m jealous of the two girls and guy behind me who are talking about the anti-anxiety meds that they took to calm theirs.
“I can do this,” I whisper to myself. “I can do this. I’m going to be fine.”
Finally, it’s my turn. Everyone is still clapping for the last person who went up. I didn’t hear a word of what he said. I walk out onto the stage and force myself to smile. The lights are blinding and I can’t see a soul. Something about this experience feels different than the intimacy of my previous speeches. They were all in a room of about thirty people where I could see every set of eyes. Here, there are no individuals in the room. They’re just a sea of people. I take a deep breath and clear my throat quietly. I open the lid of my water bottle so that I don’t have to fumble with it during the speech if my mouth runs dry.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I am extremely honored to be here and for this