Hello, welcome to #weekendcoffeeshare! Bring a light jacket and let’s have our coffee or tea outside. It’s supposed to be a beautiful day today – temperature somewhere in the mid-60’s Fahrenheit (around 18-Celsius).

While you’re here, I hope you don’t mind helping me take my seedlings back out into the garden, just be careful. I actually killed a bean plant by accidentally brushing it against the grow light. I do hope I can move some plants into the ground this upcoming week if Mother Nature will stop threatening us with the possibility of returning to winter again.

The temperature dropped to around 35-Fahrenheit (around 2-Celsius) last night, making me to have to carry tray upon tray of seedlings indoors as well as put some cold protection on the plants outdoors. Thankfully, mom went to bed early last night so she wasn’t there to scream at me about bringing bugs and diseases into the house.

The temperature swings are confusing my plants because it would be around 70-Fahrenheit (21-Celsius) while it would dip into the low 40’s or upper 30’s at night. One of my broccoli rabb plants (the one on the right), have already started flowering while thank goodness, my other broccoli rabb plants (bottom left) are still okay thanks to the location of the container.

I had my first counseling session this week. It’s definitely different than my last two attempts – no meditation and no windowless rooms. It was just me and a licensed-clinical-social-worker (LCSW) sitting across from one another on couches. I spent the session telling him my life story. It made me feel a little better despite not getting to finish the story. I felt like it was the first time I have spoken my story out loud. Perhaps I should compile it into a book.

One of the first questions he asked was, “What was the reason you immigrated to the U.S?”

He was the second person who asked me this question in the last month, the other time was by a LDS (Church of Latter-Day Saints) missionary who stopped by my house a few weeks back.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I was 10 when I immigrated here. It wasn’t for work, I can tell you that. My mother brought me here without giving me much of a choice.” Mom has often claimed herself as the heroine of this story – bringing me to the U.S and saving me from a life in China.

After almost an hour, we began discussing my options – get a restraining order against my mom (which I don’t have the heart to do) to re-establish my personal boundaries or do things like get coffee to help me regain a sort of control over my life.

When I got home that afternoon, mom asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with me.” I answered as fears began to creep up on me. I have another counseling session next Thursday, how am I supposed to swing this one? She’ll get suspicious if I have a doctor appointment every week unless I time it right since she is slated to head into the office one day a week starting the first week of May, so maybe, just maybe…

I appreciate you stopping by and reading this week’s #weekendcoffeeshare, hope to chat again same time next week.