Slay (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, #30)

by Laurell K. Hamilton

I turned around in the passenger seat as far as the seat belt would allow, trying not to yell at my dad but to still protect my personal boundaries and honor my own trauma. Yes, that is therapy-speak for trying to keep your shit together when you feel betrayed all over again by your parent who is supposed to protect you but keeps failing.

“That if someone says they’re sorry, but keeps repeating the behavior, they aren’t really sorry.”

“I’m poly, Dad, which means here in the United States I can’t legally marry everyone that I love. Hell, I still have to pick just one like it’s some romance novel and fucking soul mates.” Judith said, “Language.” I stared at her as I said, “Motherfucking son of a bitch, what’s wrong with my language, Judith?”

I’d been talking for weeks in therapy about protecting my boundaries. Learning that protecting myself physically and emotionally was not being disrespectful or mean; it didn’t make me a bad daughter, but was simply self-care and demanding to be treated like the grown-up I had become, not the child they remembered.

I thought about hugging him, but I didn’t really want to, and if you don’t want to touch someone, even family, you shouldn’t touch them.

I wasn’t the same girl who came here ten years ago, because I’d seen too much, endured too much, killed too many people, to be the same person. It’s not just years that age you, it’s events.

“I know, but here’s what I learned in therapy. I found people who loved me and made me feel comfortable enough to be more feminine and softer, because I didn’t have to spend all my time defending who I was. They accepted me all dark and cranky and morose, so I could be softer with them because they didn’t tell me there was something wrong with me constantly. They didn’t see me not being all girly and pastel as a fucking crime. It freed me up to explore the parts of being a woman that I actually liked or was willing to try.”

People keep treating me like I’m the princess in this story, someone you kidnap, or bespell to overcome your enemies, or use to make your kingdom bigger. But I am not the motherfucking princess, I am the knight that rescues her.

“I love you,” I said. She grinned and said, “I know.” We’d introduced her to Star Wars last weekend, and yes, I kissed her again.