"AJ, if you don't talk about it, this isn't going to work," Mr. Owen Reiss, my new therapist, was trying to get me to open up to him.

"I don't want 'this' to work."

"Why not?"

"Because...I just don't?"

"Is that a question? AJ, I'm not here to solve your problems."

"But isn't that your job? You're a therapist after all."

"AJ, people lie to themselves. They think they're better or worse than they actually are. Sometimes just telling someone else how they see themselves is enough to get past the worst of these. Sometimes it is someone else telling them what they see.

"My job is to be that someone else. Beyond just being anyone, I'm actually trained to be able to respond correctly."

"See, that means you will lie to me."

"No, I won't. Lying would destroy any type of trust we could build. For us to actually make any progress, you have to trust me."

"Well, how is what you said any different?"

"There is more than one way to tell someone the truth, just as there is more than one way to lie to someone."

"But, if you don't tell someone the whole truth, aren't you lying at that point?"

"For certain very strict definitions of truth, yes. But if we really get into the philosophy of Truth, then we could be here for years and never come to an agreement."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do the philosophers."

I was still a bit lost, but let him have this one.

"So, do you want me to lie down on the couch or something?"

"Not unless that's what you want to do. I'm not a psychoanalyst, so that really isn't part of what I do."

"Huh?"

"There are many types of therapy. Psychoanalysis is only one of those. Humanistic therapy is another. I like mine."

"I always thought that all therapists were the same. Is there really that much of a difference between them?"

"Psychoanalysts assume that your unconscious mind is lying to your conscious mind about the source of the problem. Their methods are designed to 'trick' the unconscious mind into revealing itself."

"Humanistic therapists like me believe that it is a matter of determining where your attitudes and actions differ and either help you to change your attitudes or your actions to match."

"So, that would be me acting more masculine if I really am a boy?"

"Or accepting that you're a girl, yes."

"You don't do this with all of your patients, do you?"

"I prefer the term clients to patients, but yes. You're not sick, AJ. This isn't an abnormality in you that causes your distress. It is a simple conflict."

"Simple..."

"Sorry, I understand that for you this is a very momentous decision, and I shouldn't have made light of it."

"I thought you were supposed to be a professional, Mr. Reiss."

"Well, I'm human first, and a therapist second. I make mistakes."

"Shouldn't I be seeing you as infallible to help the process?"

"Only if you want to."

I giggled a bit at this.

"AJ, why don't you tell me about yourself?"

"What do you want to hear?"

"Whatever you'd like to tell."

The time I spent with Mr. Reiss was wasted in my opinion, but he was pleasant to talk to, so I told him about myself. He seemed so accepting that I started to get angry with him. He was supposed to dislike me. This was supposed to repulse him.

I began telling him some of the darker stuff. I told him of my fascination with my blood flowing into the vial, and wanting to cut myself. Still, he just sat there with a slight smile on his face, waiting for me to go on. He would ask me questions when it was warranted, or just restate what I'd said.

Why wouldn't he crack?

"Six months ago, I broke into the Kimbal building."

"The twelve story building downtown?"

"Yes. I was tired and wanted to get some rest."

"So, you were going to sleep in the Kimbal building."

"No, not in the building. I knew from past experience that the guard liked to smoke halfway through his rounds, so he left the roof access door unlocked."

"I see."

"No, you don't see. I stood on the edge of the building and looked at the ground for almost an hour. I tried to make myself take that final step. There would be the rushing of the wind, and then a sudden stop, and I'd finally get some rest."

"Why do you feel that you need that?"

"Why don't you hate me? Why? How can you calmly ask me about wanting to commit suicide?"

"Have you ever actually cut yourself?"

"No."

"Jumped off a building?"

"No."

"Taken sleeping pills? Tried to drown yourself? Hang yourself?"

"No! I'm not that stupid!"

"Then why do you think I'd get upset with you thinking about something you just admitted you'd never actually do?"

I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times and then in a small voice I said, "I might."

"AJ, that is why you're here. So that you won't."

"But, I am evil. I hurt people. I could have killed those two..."

"But you didn't."

"I could have. I was out of control."

"Really? Then how come more of them didn't go to the hospital?"

"Because I'm not even strong enough to do that. Only the weaker girls."

"AJ, are girls really that weak?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Yes."

"Which is it?"

"Girls are weak. I mean, everyone knows that."

"People are people, AJ. Some are weak and some are strong. Some are both weak and strong at the same time."

"How can you be weak and strong at the same time?"

"Well, look at yourself."

"I'm not strong."

"So, a weak person fought off eight attackers all by herself with nothing more than a couple of bruises and a split lip to show for it."

When he put it that way, I had to admit that he had a point. It wasn't something I wanted to be proud of, but I knew that it took a certain type of strength to accomplish.

"Can I be happy for my strength, but hate how I used it?"

"You can do pretty much anything that you set your mind to, AJ. That should be a healthy thing, though. You just need a more healthy way to focus that strength."

I relaxed after that and told him everything about my life. I included all of the people I'd attacked, and the reasons that I'd done so. I didn't use them as justifications, but I did use them as explanations.

"I think we've made some progress today, AJ."

"Mr. Reiss, I came here expecting to hate this as much as every other therapy session I've ever had. I think I actually liked it."

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, AJ."

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Reiss."

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
I was just sitting down in the living room when the doorbell rang.

"AJ, could you get the door?" mom called from the kitchen. She'd decided that we would need some sustenance before setting out for an afternoon of shopping.

I walked to the door and opened it.

"Hey, Anne-Jeanette!"

"Hello, Kelly. Come on in."

"Jasmine is running a bit late, so she wants to meet us at the mall."

"Okay. You want to come in? Mom is making something for us to eat before we leave."

"I'll come in for a bit, but I really want to get going. It's not every day you get to start in on the ground floor with someone's wardrobe. We get to help mold you into the girl you'll become." She was almost rubbing her hands in anticipation.

"Well, Kelly, I have to let you know that I don't plan on going super girly."

"Oh, girlfriend, what you plan and what happens aren't always the same thing."

I just looked at her and she giggled.

"When I met Jasmine I was just coming out of my own tomboy phase."

"You..."

"No, I'm all girl, and always have been. I just climbed a lot of trees, and I still play baseball in the city league. She helped me to see that it can be a lot of fun acting girly. I sort of surpassed her in girliness."

"Is that even a word?"

"Doesn't matter. I like it."

"Whatever, Kelly, and can you please just call me Anne-Jeanette?"

"I'm sorry. I get carried away with the pet names, I know. So, any ideas what type of clothing we try first?"

"Let's try somewhat androgynous in female cuts and go from there."

"Who's trying to be a little miss party pooper? We need to start more adventurously than that."

I thought of something and blushed.

"What? It is probably really juicy. Spill, gi...Anne-Jeanette."

"We can get my ears pierced first," I said in a small voice.

She squealed and bounced up and down. Then she grabbed my hands and jumped up and down a bit more. I tried to get as excited as she was, but I just really couldn't. I was getting used to the idea of being a girl, but I really didn't think I would ever be this...bubbly.

I watched my mom as she finished whatever it was she was preparing. She'd never acted this way, as far as I knew. Of course, that was the operational phrase: as far as I knew.

Well, I'd have to see. I'd have to decide here and now to be myself. I really didn't want to let this shift in my self-image from boy to girl make a change in my actions. Sure, some changes would happen, but I wanted to try to keep those changes to a minimum.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
Another car ride. I'm running out of ways to say, 'we got in the car and drove to x and it was really boring because I spent the entire time lost in thought,' without simply repeating that every time I drive somewhere. It could be that I am lacking in imagination, but that is what I think every time I want to tell about driving to someplace.

The mall is an outdoor affair, with wide, open air walkways between stores. Being on the coast, it helps that we never have any cold winters. I'm not sure if this sort of center would work anywhere else in the country.

We stopped at a salon first.

"I certainly hope you're not here to get that lovely hair cut off," said one of the girls in the store.

"Oh, no. I'd never get my hair cut off. It would be tantamount to murder in my opinion."

"Well, what can we do for you today?"

"We want mani-pedis and my friend here would love to get her ears pierced," Kelly said.

"Don't we want to wait for Jasmine?"

"I'm here," said Jasmine from behind me.

"Hey, AJ, sorry I wasn't able to meet you at your mom's."

"You missed the best vegi-burgers I've ever had," Kelly said rubbing her tummy.

"Are you guys vegetarians, AJ?"

"Nope. Mom has this thing about hamburger though. I agree with her. If you're going to go to the trouble of eating meat, it might as well be the best cut you can get, and in steak form–preferably with a nice green salad on the side."

"Exactly," my mom added. "Might as well make vegetables taste good as ruin a good piece of meat."

Jasmine looked skeptical, but Kelly chimed back in, "You really missed out, Jaz. They were better than any burgers I've had recently. And apparently they're better for me. I might have to see if I can come over every night if the food is going to be this good."

"Girl, if you didn't exercise as much as you do, you would blow up like a balloon," Jasmine said.

Kelly just stuck out her tongue.

"Ladies, if the four of you will step this way?"

The other three got their hair washed and a slight trim. I think mine would have taken all the girls in the place a few hours to even attempt the same. I got a complete work-over otherwise. One girl worked on my feet, while another had my hands. I think they attacked me at both ends so I wouldn't be able to stop them when they started putting on makeup with a trowel.

Okay, so they only put on a light coating of makeup that perfectly accentuated my appearance.

They showed me a couple of sheets of stud earrings while they were working on me, and I saw the perfect pair. They were even in surgical steel. I've done a bit of research in the past. I was thinking of getting a single ear pierced in the past, one of the things I wanted to enhance my appearance.

I was going to get a skull or a gold cube, or something masculine.

That was then.

The red and pink hearts looked like they would be perfect. It was just the outline of two hearts, and they overlapped a bit. The red was on the left, and about a quarter higher than the pink–two hearts per ear.

Getting hit in the face hurts a lot worse.

When we were all finished mom got a number of photos of us in front of the store. Then it was time to get down to business.

True to my word, we started with jeans and t-shirts. Unfortunately for me, I didn't understand at the time what that meant.

So many girls' styles, and cuts, and…

I liked the way that the clothing felt. Not in any sort of sexual way. No. It fit. It all fit. Properly. There is something about having clothing that fits you properly that you never realized you missed until you actually put something on that just...fits.

I don't know how else to say it.

It doesn't have to be tight, or loose. It simply makes you feel normal. You can forget about what you are wearing and just be.

Which isn't to say that I didn't feel downright sexy in some of those pants and tops.

I have to say that other than the fact that it limits your range of motion, I love skintight jeans. I love the way that they make me feel. You feel like you're naked, and yet fully clothed at the same time.

"I love these. Can I wear them out of the store?"

"Anne-Jeanette, think about how easy they are to get in and out of."

"Not very, but they are so sexy."

"That may be, daughter mine, but we have more clothing to try on. You are welcome to wear them tomorrow."

I imagined getting into, and out of, those jeans twenty or thirty times through the course of the evening.

"Point taken, mom."

Jasmine and Kelly just giggled at me.

"Oh, hush. You two just wish that your butts looked as good as mine in those jeans."

They hit me for that one.

Yeah, they hit like girls.

We were walking to the next store with a tower of bags. Not all the bags were mine, but a good percentage were. A little store front caught my eye. I'd seen the symbol on a number of signs. The symbol of an empty fist with a dragon wrapped in the fingers.

The lettering above the symbol proclaimed this store as West Coast MMA.

"Mom, do you mind if I stop in here?"

Mom got a disapproving frown on her face, but nodded after a moment. "The girls and I will take the bags out to the car. We'll need our arms if we're going to carry bags from the other stores. However, Anne-Jeanette, if you choose to go in there, then realize that the next place we're going is Victoria's Secret."

I looked back at the store front, and then simply nodded, "Okay, mom."

"We'll be back here in about five minutes."

I stepped into the dojo or whatever it was, and I was assaulted by the smell of sawdust, blood, and sweat. There was a bit of leather mixed in for good measure. It was a good smell in my opinion.

"If you're here for the self-defense class, it's been cancelled. Our previous teacher got married recently and is on her honeymoon."

"No, I wanted to see what you had in here."

There were a couple of guys working with the weight bags, and another couple in the ring, sparring I assumed.

"Do you even have room in here for a self-defense class? It seems kind of...small."

The guy chuckled at me, "It's got a couple of back rooms. I'm Felipe."

I pulled the card out of my wallet, and sure enough, it said Felipe on it.

"I think this might be yours. Shawn Harris told me to get together with you."

"Shawn? How is that genius?"

"Good."

"So, he sent you my way. Street fighter?"

I nodded and shrugged.

"Used to be. I'm trying to get out of it."

"Any good?"

"I used to think so."

"Well, you're shorter than I'd like. Want to spar a bit, just so I can see how you move? You'll have to fight one of these apes, as I don't have any girls."

"I'm fine with that."

"None of my protective gear will fit you..."

"Felipe, if any of these guys can touch me, then I'll have a really good reason to hang up my gloves."

I climbed up into the ring with one of the amateurs there.

I mean that in every respect of the word. He was wearing a head guard, and a waist guard.

He went after me with a telegraphed straight arm punch. I stepped to the side and kneed him in the stomach and then elbowed him in the back of the head when he doubled over.

"Henry, get out of there. I should've known with someone that Shawn sent me."

Felipe climbed in the ring with me.

No, I didn't win. Didn't lose either. He seriously put me through my paces. I could tell that he was holding back, though, and it started to upset me. I got creative and found myself on my back with a bicep hurtling toward my head.

I rolled out of the way and leapt to my feet. I was crouching and getting ready for my counter-attack when Felipe held up his hands.

"Anne-Jeanette, you get out of that ring this instant!"

Oh, crap. I was in for it now. I wonder if mom will accept that I'd only been sparring?