Chapter 17: Therapy and Progress
Chapter 17: Therapy and Progress
Healing wasn't instantaneous. Trauma doesn't just vanish because you change the scenery or punish the abuser. The scars ran deep.
There were still nights when Maya would wake up crying in a cold sweat, terrified that she had done something wrong, dropped a plate, and was going to be locked in the dark. There were times she would flinch violently if I moved too quickly to grab a towel in the kitchen.
We started going to family therapy every Thursday afternoon without fail. Dr. Aris, a wonderful, patient child psychologist with a therapy dog named Buster, helped Maya understand that none of what happened was her fault. She helped me learn how to rebuild the trust that I had unintentionally let Eleanor break, teaching me patience and active listening.
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I radically scaled back my workload at the firm. I promoted a trusted Vice President to handle all the out-of-state travel and client dinners. My new, unbreakable rule was simple: I was home by 5:30 PM every single day, no matter what crisis the board claimed was happening. No multi-million dollar merger was worth more than my daughter's safety and happiness.
Slowly, week by week, the shadows started to lift. Maya began to put on healthy weight. Her cheeks grew fuller, returning to a rosy pink. She started making friends at her new school, inviting them over for playdates. The fearful, silent girl in the oversized gray sweatshirt was slowly fading away, replaced by the vibrant child she was meant to be.
