back, and dark brown skin. She’s been my assistant for all five of the years I’ve been working in this profession, and she’s been top notch from the very beginning. Even though she’s ten years older than me, she appreciates that I went to school for a long time to become a therapist, and she's a big help in keeping all of this in order. My personal life can sometimes make it hard to remain focused on my professional life. Keisha’s job isn't only to schedule my appointments and keep me on track with everything on the agenda, it’s also to make sure I don't let my professional and personal lives compound, which can be a task.
“Good morning, Dr. Colson,” Keisha says with a smile. Her braids are tied into a ponytail today, and her yellow sun dress hugs her body.
“Morning, Keisha.”
“Running late?”
“A little.”
“Better get in there then. Your first patient shouldn't be too much longer.”
I push open the brown, wooden door to my office and step inside, closing it behind me. My office is decked out in dark walnut wood furniture that gives the space an outdoor type of feel. I want my clients to be as comfortable as possible here, because the topics we discuss tend to make most people uncomfortable. The more relaxed and comfortable I can make my patients, the more likely they are to open up to me about their secrets.
The couches are brown and black fabric with plush cushions and a single pillow, just in case someone needs something to fiddle with or clutch. I made sure to stay away from leather, because I didn't want the sound of the couch to distract from the session every time a client moved. I need their full attention. This is their safe space. In here, we tear down walls and barriers and reveal the passion and pleasure behind them.
I have a large desk that rests in the corner of the room, where I track appointments and transcribe notes I take during each session. I keep files there and play music from it when I’m between patients, but when I have somebody on my couch, I sit in a black armchair directly across from the patient. We can't be separated by a desk. It has to feel much more personal than that—like we’re just two people hanging out and having a deep conversation.
The walls are covered in pieces of art that aren't too distracting—basically black and white pieces , and there's a single mirror on the wall behind my desk, that I now find myself looking into. The height of the mirror is higher than most would expect because I’m six-two, so most of my clients can't see themselves in it without actually trying to. My hair is short and lined up, as is my beard, and I double check to make sure I look professional in my white button up and tan slacks that seem to make my caramel skin and green eyes stand out today. I don't look like a man who woke up at five in the morning to have sex and barely left the house in time. That's good. I look ready to meet my new patient. Image is important when meeting someone for the first time, so I’m glad I was able to tear myself away from Ava in time to put it all together.
“Dr. Colson, your seven-thirty has arrived,” Keisha’s voice calls to me over the intercom.
I give myself one last once-over before taking a deep breath, and answering my assistant.
“Thank you, Keisha.”
I walk across the office and open the door to find a innocent-looking man with pale skin seated across from Keisha in one of the two brown chairs. He’s also wearing a white button-up, but his pants are black. He looks younger than me with his clean shaven face, but the inexperience and insecurity I see wafting off of him isn't because of his age. He looks timid, even when he stands up and shakes my hand, but his grip is strong like he was thinking about it before engaging in a handshake.
He's apprehensive, but wants to portray confidence before the session starts. A lot of men think that seeking therapy makes them weak, so when they manage to drag themselves into a therapist’s office, it takes a while before they're able to let go of the unnecessary effort of trying to look as though they don't need to be here. Some men would rather look like an ass