Motema pulls into the parking lot of a clinic. He takes a deep breath before stepping out of his car and walking inside. He walks up to the front desk,

“I’m here for an- an appointment.” He stutters.

“Name?” the lady asks, without looking up from her computer.

“Motema Buta.”

“Ok, take a seat and wait for your name to be called.”

“Thankyou.” Motema says with a nod, then he takes a seat and waits anxiously, bouncing his leg and picking his nails as he does.

“Jade deth.” The lady at the front calls out.

Motema looks around, but nobody moves from their seat.

“Motema Buta.” The lady calls out.

Motema walks up to the desk and the lady looks up at him,

“Down the hall, third door on the left.”

“Thank- thankyou.” Motema nods while averting his eyes.

He walks down the hall and stops at the third door on the left. He looks back, recounting the doors, and then he looks at his hands and holds up his right hand. He looks back at the door and knocks.

“Come in.” The woman replies.

He slowly opens the door and inches himself in.

“Motema?” the woman asks, looking up at him.

“Yes,” he says with a sigh.

She smiles at him, “Have a seat.”

He closes the door behind him and sits in one of two armchairs. The woman was black with long copper waves, a forest green pantsuit, and big brown square glasses. She sits across from him on a light gray couch, white shelving carrying house plants and succulents dotted the blue-gray walls all around the room. There was a big glass window letting in lots of natural light on the wall opposite the door.

“It’s nice to meet you Motema, Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”

“Oh, um what do you need to know?”

“Well, why don’t you tell me about your childhood?”

Motema chuckles, “that’s always the place to start, isn’t it?” he lets out a breath, “well, um, I moved around a lot, back home, in africa. I was born in the Ituri forest, um, we were part of a tribe, moved into a village, and kept moving west until my parents eventually decided to come to America.”

“Sounds difficult, I'm assuming you didn’t get to keep a lot of close friends growing up?” She wrote on a notepad as Motema talked.

“Not really, we’d get to a place then as soon as we had the money to move again we did so.”

“Do you find it difficult to keep friends now?” she asks.

“Um, not necessarily, I mean I don't like making new friends, but the ones I do have I hold very close to my heart.”

“So, moving to America, what was that like?” she looks up at him.

“Life changing. I mean it's a completely different culture over here, and not one that is always welcoming to people like me and my mom. You know, outside the country there is all this propaganda, the United States prides itself on being this incredible place where immigrants can come and start a new life of prosperity and have their dreams come true,” Motema sighs, “then you get here, and the first American experience you have is blatant racism.”

“Unfortunately that sounds about right.” She says.

Motema sits back in the chair, “The first few months were difficult, we stayed in a motel until an apartment finally accepted us. We practiced English in Kinshasa before we came over, so we got around ok, but it still was pretty difficult for a while.”

“So, you mentioned your mom, what about your dad, or siblings?”

“I don’t have any siblings, and my father died before we came here.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry, what happened?”

“He got sick, he and my mom grew up in the forest, so moving to a big city with a bunch of germy people did not bode well for him.”

“That must’ve been hard.”

“Yea, but I made my peace with it. I honestly think it was for the best, he struggled adjusting to african civilization, I don’t think he had it in him to deal with immigration and cops and all that here.”

“So, how old were you when you moved here?”

“I was 15.”

“Wow, not a good age for such a big change, with puberty and all those hormones and such.”

“Oh yea, it was great.” He says, sarcastically, “My Mom was strict, well she was open by her standards, but she got really into christianity, I mean she’s one of those people who thinks their religion is right and everyone else's is wrong. She’s also very homophobic, and transphobic, and well she hates all of that stuff.” He repositions himself again, sitting up straight against the back of the chair.

“How do you feel about it?”

“Oh, I'm open to all that, I myself am bi, and I don’t have any issues with anyone, as long as they are a good person. I really have my friends to thank for that.”

“How so?”

“Well, I met them when I started at my new school, after settling in at our new place, Akilah, she moved here from venezuela when she was little, and Jade who is half Laotian on his dads side, and he is also bi, and he’s like a mix of old school and modern buddhism, which is pretty cool actually.” Motema smiles, “They opened my eyes to all this stuff and it’s because of them I am the father that I am, I’m open with my kids, they were raised in a diverse household, I don't force any religion or gender roles on them, and I raise them to be respectful of other people. I mean, I wish I had that growing up.”

“How was it, growing up with your mother, after moving here and learning you’re bi?”

“Well, I hadn’t actually realized I was bi until recently, though looking back I knew on some level back in highschool. After Kil and Jade opened my eyes, I found myself attracted to lots of different people, including Jade,” he says, blushing, “ but once my mom met Jade, she hated him, and I quickly learned to deny my attraction to guys. Me and Kil ended up going out, our parents kinda pushed us together, we got married, had two kids, but after our second we realized we just didn’t love eachother like that. We got a divorce, split custody, it was pretty simple since we still love each other, and are such close friends. We each have the kids every other week, and we spend holidays together, alternating who hosts. After highschool Jade got pretty busy with school, but he helped me with the kids while they were young and we reconnected, and that’s when I realized I was bi, and I had feelings for him, and he had feelings for me.”

“So did you two date?”

“Well, kind of, we started seeing each other in secret, but I was too scared to date him for real, we’ve been together for about ten years.”

“When you say scared, what do you mean?”

Motema sits silently, lost in thought, for a moment,

“Sorry, I just realized how long ten years is, and I'm just freaking out a little bit.” He says with a heavy breath as he tenses up.

“Ok, tell me about that.”

“I just feel like I can’t breathe, my chest is tight, I'm hot. Just anxiety.” He pulls forward and leans over just a little, taking deep, broken breaths.

“When you said you were scared to date Jade, is this what you meant?”

“Yea. I mean, I'm fine when it’s just us, in the moment, but when I think about taking him on a proper date in public, and being a real couple I get this anxiety, and I can’t get words out, and it kinda feels like I'm dying.”

“Ok, well lots of people experience some form of anxiety when it comes to commitment and relationships, and that is definitely something we can work on in therapy.”

“Good, cause I love him, and I do really want to be with him.” He takes a few more breaths as he starts to settle down.

“Well, our time is just about up, but this was a great first session, and I am excited to start working with you Motema.”

“Yea, me too, this was great, thankyou.”