are the same. That the answer is going to be the same whether they ask you or David. But like Cheryl said, it really sounds like you’re getting a handle on this. In my experience, kids who have been ruling the roost will fight even harder when you’re on the right track, but stick to it and he will come around.
----
Georgeous wrote:
I’m estranged from pretty much all my family. They kept insisting that I go to a counsellor. They thought it was just hormones and I would get over it. It seems harsh, but it’s a good thing. They did their best to make me feel bad, and now I am surrounded by people who choose to love me.
----
Vic wrote:
I’m a bit concerned about the forgiving, loving wall strategy. Alex is clearly identifying as ‘she’. You and David are consistently referring to her as ‘he’. Is the first part of your plan for openness to ignore that?
----
Heather wrote:
I’m grateful that you have taken an interest, Vic. Do you have a teenage child?
15
AFTER A FEW days I know my own way around. I have learned my teachers’ names. Nothing has been very hard so far, especially now that I can do my homework on the train. Academically, they’ve put me somewhere in the middle.
I sit next to Amina in most classes. Sierra sits on the other side of Amina every single time, as though it’s a rule.
Amina doesn’t talk. She does her schoolwork. She puts her hand up to answer questions, but not in a sucking-up way. She likes learning. She doesn’t look at me. I can’t stop looking at her. I have imprinted her face in my mind. I can see it when I close my eyes. When I am in bed at night I run a little silent movie of her in my head. Amina frowning. Amina smiling. Amina laughing. Amina serious. Amina sipping juice through a straw.
(I can feel your halo halo halo.)
I have to resist the urge to poke her with my pen. I literally have to hold my own hand to stop myself from touching her. I pinched her arm once. She gave me such a look. Mostly perplexed.
Sorry, that was me, says Alex, sheepishly.
Another day I was just sitting there in maths. We were doing algebra, and it was all quiet, and then I yelled out, ‘RRROXANNE!’ I picked up that particular earworm on the train in the morning.
Me again, Alex confesses.
Turns out, girls don’t do that. The teacher held me back afterwards to talk about suitable behaviour. I just stared at my feet and mumbled in the appropriate places. Because, the truth is, I was singing because I am happy.
Imagine that?
Amina waited outside for me, and as we walked down for lunch she asked, ‘Can you run?’
Sometimes Amina disappears at lunchtime. The other girls have told me that she runs. Laps, I guess. Something like that. It’s been a mystery.
Can we run? Alex asks.
Of course we can run if Amina wants us to run.
‘I s’pose.’
‘Will you be on my team?’ she asks.
Of course we’ll be on her team!
‘Sure!’
‘Good,’ she says, smiling.
You probably want to know more about Amina. You want to know what she likes, what music she listens to, what she thinks about things. I’ve been wondering that too, except I am afraid.
Amina is like a present, with shiny paper, crisp corners and no visible stickytape. I don’t want to open it and discover it wasn’t what I wanted.
I know that’s kind of a boy thing too, isn’t it? I should love her however she is, but what if she liked Big Brother ? What if I find out her favourite song is ‘My Heart Will Go On’? We couldn’t even be friends after that. I think I’ll just look at her from here, thank you.
I sit with Julia in science. She’s smart, but I think she struggles with some of the technical stuff. Or maybe she is just bored. Sometimes she files her nails under the desk. When I see her I call out ‘Whoolia!’ and she calls out ‘Lexia!’ and we air kiss.
Julia’s lips are a dusty pink. I thought it was lipstick, but that’s the actual colour they are. She has a little tiny mo. She gets it waxed, I
----
Georgeous wrote:
I’m estranged from pretty much all my family. They kept insisting that I go to a counsellor. They thought it was just hormones and I would get over it. It seems harsh, but it’s a good thing. They did their best to make me feel bad, and now I am surrounded by people who choose to love me.
----
Vic wrote:
I’m a bit concerned about the forgiving, loving wall strategy. Alex is clearly identifying as ‘she’. You and David are consistently referring to her as ‘he’. Is the first part of your plan for openness to ignore that?
----
Heather wrote:
I’m grateful that you have taken an interest, Vic. Do you have a teenage child?
15
AFTER A FEW days I know my own way around. I have learned my teachers’ names. Nothing has been very hard so far, especially now that I can do my homework on the train. Academically, they’ve put me somewhere in the middle.
I sit next to Amina in most classes. Sierra sits on the other side of Amina every single time, as though it’s a rule.
Amina doesn’t talk. She does her schoolwork. She puts her hand up to answer questions, but not in a sucking-up way. She likes learning. She doesn’t look at me. I can’t stop looking at her. I have imprinted her face in my mind. I can see it when I close my eyes. When I am in bed at night I run a little silent movie of her in my head. Amina frowning. Amina smiling. Amina laughing. Amina serious. Amina sipping juice through a straw.
(I can feel your halo halo halo.)
I have to resist the urge to poke her with my pen. I literally have to hold my own hand to stop myself from touching her. I pinched her arm once. She gave me such a look. Mostly perplexed.
Sorry, that was me, says Alex, sheepishly.
Another day I was just sitting there in maths. We were doing algebra, and it was all quiet, and then I yelled out, ‘RRROXANNE!’ I picked up that particular earworm on the train in the morning.
Me again, Alex confesses.
Turns out, girls don’t do that. The teacher held me back afterwards to talk about suitable behaviour. I just stared at my feet and mumbled in the appropriate places. Because, the truth is, I was singing because I am happy.
Imagine that?
Amina waited outside for me, and as we walked down for lunch she asked, ‘Can you run?’
Sometimes Amina disappears at lunchtime. The other girls have told me that she runs. Laps, I guess. Something like that. It’s been a mystery.
Can we run? Alex asks.
Of course we can run if Amina wants us to run.
‘I s’pose.’
‘Will you be on my team?’ she asks.
Of course we’ll be on her team!
‘Sure!’
‘Good,’ she says, smiling.
You probably want to know more about Amina. You want to know what she likes, what music she listens to, what she thinks about things. I’ve been wondering that too, except I am afraid.
Amina is like a present, with shiny paper, crisp corners and no visible stickytape. I don’t want to open it and discover it wasn’t what I wanted.
I know that’s kind of a boy thing too, isn’t it? I should love her however she is, but what if she liked Big Brother ? What if I find out her favourite song is ‘My Heart Will Go On’? We couldn’t even be friends after that. I think I’ll just look at her from here, thank you.
I sit with Julia in science. She’s smart, but I think she struggles with some of the technical stuff. Or maybe she is just bored. Sometimes she files her nails under the desk. When I see her I call out ‘Whoolia!’ and she calls out ‘Lexia!’ and we air kiss.
Julia’s lips are a dusty pink. I thought it was lipstick, but that’s the actual colour they are. She has a little tiny mo. She gets it waxed, I
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