Therapy session with Joeie

“Your 4 o’clock is here,” the receptionist told me over my phone speaker.

I thanked her, noticing they were a few minutes early, always a good sign. That gave me enough time to review the email my colleague had sent me.

do you have availability? My client is the legal guardian of his 16 year old little sister and believes she could benefit from therapy. I thought of you because she’s a little oppositional and doesn’t believe she needs to talk to a professional. You guys would be a good fit for each other :)

Great… a teenager who doesn’t want to be here but no explanation of why the adults in her life think she should.

I guess if her brother is her legal guardian, that might have something to do with it. What happened to her parents?

I checked the next email where my colleague had forwarded information to the biller and head receptionist. My new client had union insurance, which means her guardian works with the fire department, and instantly I began to wonder about her family. Was there someone to take over if she lost her brother? Would she be able to handle another loss on top of who she already lost (her mom and maybe a dad, too)?

Glancing at the clock, I decided it was time to go meet my new (oppositional) client.

When I arrived in the waiting area, the pair that belonged to me were obvious — a tall man, early 30s with dark hair and eyes sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs, thumbing through a psychology today magazine. At his side was the Wikipedia image of “teenager.” She had brown hair, lighter than her brothers, with a green streak down the side, eyes glued to her phone.

“Josephine?” I called out, and the brother looked up, then nudged her. She scowled at him for a moment until he nodded in my direction, then her green eyes met mine mid-roll. She plucked out her AirPods and stood.

Her brother stood, reaching out a hand to shake mine. “I’m Justin,” he said. “Do you want me to come, too?”

I shook my head, “I’ll call you in at the end, once we’ve gotten to know each other a little better.”

Justin nodded and sat back down, glancing at his little sister with eyes that said, “behave.” She responded with another eyeroll, tucking her phone in her pocket and ready to follow me.

When we arrived in my office, she took the farthest seat from mine, which was also closest to the door.

“I’m Breanna,” I told her as I sat.

“I’m Joeie, ending in ie, not y,” then proceeded to spell it out for me.