“Have fun!” Sonia says, only half paying attention to me as I zip up my coat and head out the front door, heading to school for only the fourth time this year.

I, like every other teenager in the UK, returned to school after the Christmas holidays… only to be sent home again two days later as the country entered yet another lockdown. Like every other teenager, I wasn’t terribly sorry about this- it meant I wouldn’t have to deal with the bullshit of other teenagers like Harry on a constant basis. I wouldn’t have to spend two hours each week playing rugby or football in the freezing cold. I wouldn’t even have to get out of bed more than 15 minutes before classes were due to start. A lot of the kids in my school were ecstatic about this- after all, lockdown rules meant that we couldn’t hang out outside of school anyway- but I still felt sad. The friends I’d made at ‘the table’ had quickly become the best friends I’d ever had, and the more time I spent around them, the more accepted I felt- even if they only accepted me as ‘Liam’ and not ‘Lisa’.

Not long after we were sent home, I celebrated my fourteenth birthday. As with Lily’s birthday twelve days earlier, I had a ‘Zoom party’ with the other girls, played music and ate cake, but the most special thing that happened that day was Bailey sending another poem that I immediately printed out and pinned to a cork board I’d installed above my bed. However, the whole day was tinged with sadness- mostly because it was, of course, my first birthday without my parents, the first birthday I’d had when I didn’t see Melanie all day (which clearly also made Sonia sad, even if she didn’t say anything about it), and while it was my first birthday with my new set of friends, I felt sad that I couldn’t spend any time with them that wasn't over a screen. As the weeks went on, I found myself more and more desperate to return to school.

…And then I eventually did return to school, and the first day, inevitably, was so much worse than I’d imagined.

At home, I barely even thought about what clothes I wore each day. Sonia wore her usual smart blouse and trousers when she was working and on a call, while I wore a pair of jeans and a sweater, and seemingly, so did everyone else in my classes. Then, on my return to school yesterday, I was greeted by an onslaught of femininity.

Everywhere I looked, I saw grey skirts, stretchy tights, soft white blouses, tiny black shoes and even some girls wearing mascara and jewellery. Everywhere I looked, I saw a reminder of- in Lily’s words- how awesome it was to be a girl, and how I very much was NOT a girl. Even worse was the one of yesterday’s lessons was PE, specifically swimming, so while I was shivering in my trunks, I was faced by dozens of girls wearing clingy one-piece swimsuits, which were probably no less chilly but were infinitely more feminine. All I could think about all day was how much it sucked to be a boy, and how much I wished I could be a girl- could be ‘Lisa’- so much so that I couldn’t even begin to tell you what I actually learned yesterday, if I even learned anything at all. Anything other than how much more fun the girls at the table were having than I did, anyway. If I had an opportunity to be 'Lisa', even temporarily, it'd be one thing, but as I'm never alone in the flat, I don't even have that to fall back on. 'Lisa' feels further away than 'she' ever has at any point in my life...

…And as I arrive at school for another day of trying to study, I receive an immediate reminder that today’s going to be no different to yesterday.

“Hey Liam!” Lily says, clearly grinning behind her mask. “We missed you on the call last night…”

“Yeah, s- sorry,” I say as I try not to blush at the sight of the cute girl playfully crossing one tights-covered leg in front of the other, almost as though she was flirting with me- which, if Bailey is to be believed, she totally is.

When Bailey told me that Lily fancied me and saw me as boyfriend material, I’d initially thought she was joking- after all, how can I be ‘boy’friend material when I don’t even see myself as ‘boy’ material? As time’s gone on, though, it’s become increasingly obvious even to me that this is exactly what’s going on. After all, I’ve come to school dressing and presenting as a boy, so why should Lily- regardless of her family history- view me as anything other than a boy? And the truth is, she IS cute. The problem, though, is that I wish that I was as cute as her- if not cuter. And that attitude probably doesn't fall under the heading of 'good boyfriend material'.

“I- umm, I really needed to catch up with my homework," I continue. "Like, study for SATs, sort of thing.”

“If we even do SATs this year,” Lily snorted. “There weren’t any exams last year, after all.”

“Yeah, dunno how much more lockdown I can take, though,” I mumble, earning a sympathetic look from my friend.

“I hear that,” Lily sighs. “Anyway, better get to form now, but I’ll see you at the table, right?”

“Of course,” I reply with a shrug, earning a giggle from the girl. “And tonight?”

“When I’m not putting this dancer’s body through its paces, sure!” Lily replies with another giggle as she poses for me before heading off to her form, leaving me increasingly flustered.

What doesn’t help either is that in the two months since we last saw each other face to face (well, without a screen being involved, at least), there’s another girl who I’ve spent a lot more time talking to than to Lily- even if she prefers not to do any actual 'talking'.

“Hi Bailey,” I say as I sit down next to the bespectacled girl in our art class- our second lesson of the day (having obviously sat together in form as well).

“H- h- hi,” my friend whispers in reply. “Y- y- you weren’t on- online last n- n- night?”

“Kinda had a lot of homework to do,” I reply, using the same excuse I gave Lily- which, while true, disguises the fact that the real reason I stayed off the call was just how scrambled my thoughts were after yesterday's deluge of femininity. Stress that’s continuing even now despite Bailey's skirt covering a lot more of her legs than Lily's.

“O- o- okay,” Bailey says, sounding almost disappointed.

“I’ll be on tonight, though,” I say, though I can’t tell whether or not this makes my friend smile behind her mask.

“M- m- most of the g- g- girls won’t b- be,” Bailey retorts. “B- because of their d- d- dance class.”

“They’ll log on after the dance class though, won’t they?” I ask, smiling as my friend nods. “And I won’t be on the whole evening either, like.”

“O- o- okay,” Bailey says, thankfully not asking why I won’t be online- as it’s not something I particularly want to share.

Tonight, after I get home but before dinner, will be my first video session with the counsellor Sonia arranged at Christmas. And while I’m looking forward to it, a large part of me is terrified as well.

Of course, I’m sure that if I told my friends about the session, they’d be supportive- they know about my history regarding my parents and are sympathetic, after all. What they don’t know- and what will no doubt come as a surprise to my counsellor, too- is about ‘Lisa’. The prospect of finally having someone, anyone to share this secret with is making me nearly boil over with anticipation and nerves, and is almost as much of a distraction as my currently being surrounded by femininity. But to get to that point, first I’ll actually have to come out to the counsellor, and the very idea of saying the words, of forming the words in my brain, petrifies me.

It’s not even like I don’t have examples or role models I can look up to- Lily’s sister has a popular YouTube channel and Instagram account on which she often talks about these issues, and Bryony sometimes talks about the difficulties her older sister had when she first came out, and they both talk about how eager their sisters have been to help girls in their situation. However, I know that as friendly and supportive as they might be, I can’t simply message them out of the blue- I don’t know for certain that they wouldn’t tell their sisters, after all. Worse yet, they- and my counsellor- would eventually end up asking when I started feeling the way I do, and why- and I’d ultimately have to tell them about the ‘treatment’ I got from my sisters when I was younger. I don’t want them to ask me if my feelings about my gender identity stem from what Sonia and Melanie did to me when I was younger, because I’m not entirely convinced myself that they don’t.

I sometimes wonder what life would be like if my sisters were a little kinder to me while I was growing up. Would I be more confident? Maybe. Would I be less resentful? Probably. Would I still be borderline obsessed with being a girl? …I can’t say for certain. All I do know for certain is that as Bailey straightens her tights before getting her coloured pencils out of her school bag, all I can think of is what it'd be like to have my own tights to straighten, or my own skirt to smooth over my knees, or long hair, or all manner of other feminine delights. And in all likelihood, nothing the counsellor can say or do will change that.

Eventually, though, the lesson comes to an end, and I head to the regular table, reasoning that if I can't see that all of the girls are wearing skirts, I won't be as distracted as I was throughout the morning. After all, boys and girls wear- more or less- the same thing above the waist. Naturally, though, when I arrive at the table, I discover that the girls have other ideas.

“Oh, that is SO cute!” Ari gushes as Lily holds something in front of her, which I quickly discover is a leotard- and I’m forced to agree with Ari’s assessment of it. It’s slender, has a very high cut leg and has cap sleeves made of a billowy see-through mesh-like material. The leotard looks like it’d fit Lily perfectly- however, of course, it’s not her body I’m imagining it being on.

“I know, right?” Lily squeaks before carefully folding away the leotard and placing it back in her bag. “I was SO gutted when the strap broke on my favourite leo last week, but Laura had a word with Ms. Fullerton and got me a discount on this, and there was no way I was going to say no, hehe! Can’t wait to wear it tonight. Heh, can’t wait to wear it back in class proper!”

“Totally,” Molly agrees. “I am SO getting one of those myself, and- heh. I think we’ve already bored Liam, hehe!”

“Not just him,” Danny says, laughing as his girlfriend gives him a gentle punch in his arm.

“You don’t get to be bored by talk of me in a skin-tight leotard,” Molly says smugly as Lily briefly glances over at me, only to blush as our eyes meet.

“And I- I’m okay just, like, listening,” I say. “Really.” Even if it is sending my anxiety levels through the roof, I think to myself.

“See?” Lily asks. “There are SOME good guys, hehe!” I allow myself a smirk behind my mask as Bailey gives me a gentle elbow and a knowing look. If only it was THAT simple, Bailey…

“I’ll just be happy if I ever get to wear ANY black leotard to class,” Ari says with a sigh, before turning to me to explain. “In our class, only girls who can dance en pointe wear bla-“

“Wear black,” I interrupt. “Other classes wear different colours, I know. I DO listen sometimes, heh.” Especially as it’s all I can think about most of the time, I think to myself.

“Meanwhile, we just wear nothing,” Daisy says, gesturing to herself, Bailey and Farah before her eyes go wide and she laughs as she realises what she said. “I don’t mean we do ballet naked, hehe! I-“

“I- we know what you mean,” I say softly as my friend laughs uproariously again.

“Though I have heard a few horror stories about girls where the crotch of their leotard snapped, rather than the shoulder,” Lily says with a playful grimace.

“No splits competition TONIGHT, then,” Molly says, earning loud giggles from those in the dance class while the rest of us- myself included- chuckle politely.

Naturally, talk of the evening’s upcoming dance lesson dominates the chat for the rest of the break period, and while I pretend to be disinterested, I hang on every word the girls say, and with every passing second, I find it harder and harder to resist the urge to snatch the leotard from Lily’s bag. As always, I head away to my next lesson feeling included by the girls but feeling further away than ever from being ‘Lisa’. Not least because of the fact that as I’m much taller than Lily, there's no way the leotard would fit me anyway.

Nonetheless, after the next lesson, I headed straight back to the table, though this time, I was one of the first to arrive, finding only Bailey and Daisy waiting for me there.

“Hi Liam!” Daisy greets me in her usual loud, cheerful voice. “It’s just the two of us I’m afraid, the other girls have an extra gymnastics club session today.”

“A- and F- F- Farah will b- be here after h- h- her p- p- prayers,” Bailey explains.

“So, the others are just going to spend the rest of the day swapping from one leotard to the next?” I ask, hoping that my cheeks don’t flush too much at the thought.

“Better them than me!” Daisy says with a chuckle, though I fidget as this leads to an awkward silence. “Anyway, we were talking about what we were doing tonight while the others are off pirouetting or whatever, and we decided we’d have a call if you, Ari and Farah were all up for it.”

“Umm, sure,” I say, before remembering that I have a prior arrangement for tonight. “Umm, actually I- I might be on, like, a little later than planned, like.”

“Y- y- you d- did s-s say earlier,” Bailey stammers.

“What are you doing that’s more fun than us?” Daisy asks in a teasing voice as I bite my lip and try to keep my emotions in check. As private, as personal as the meeting is, I know it’s something both girls will sympathise with- though it's still something that makes me feel upset merely for needing it. And the last thing I want to do is make Daisy feel upset for unknowingly teasing me about it.

“It’s- umm, it’s nothing, really, just, like, a ‘thing’,” I mumble in reply, blushing as my friends continue to stare at me expectantly.

“Well, if- if you don’t WANT to tell us…” Daisy says almost accusingly, her tone of voice sounding a LOT like my sisters when I tried (and usually failed) to keep things private from them in the past.

“I- umm, I- I’ve got my first meeting with my counsellor,” I explain. “Grief counsellor, sort of thing…” I bite my lip to prevent tears from flowing as, predictably, Daisy’s face falls and she looks devastated.

“Oh- god, Liam…” Daisy moans as even Bailey looks like she’s about to start crying. “I’m so sorr-“

“It- it’s okay, you didn’t know,” I interrupt. “Couldn’t have known, like.”

“Yeah, but still…” The dark-haired girl moans.

“I- If y- y- you d- d- don’t want t- to b- be on the ch- ch- chat t- tonight-“ Bailey says in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

“No, I- I think I’ll need cheering up after the session, heh,” I chuckle quietly.

“If you think listening to the other girls talking about their dance lesson will cheer you up, then sure,” Daisy snorts.

“Being with friends will,” I retort, making my friends smile, including Farah as she arrives and sits down at our table.

“Hey girls- well, guy and girls, hehe!” Farah says, immediately perking up the mood at the table after I'd brought it all the way down.

“Hey Farah!” I say as I carefully ponder my next words. “And I don’t mind, like, being considered, like, an ‘honorary girl’ if it makes things easier, heh.” I bite my lip as this predictably brings an awkward silence to the table- I really should’ve chosen my words a bit more carefully, but I wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to ‘test the waters’ when it presented itself.

“…Your hair hasn’t got THAT long,” Daisy chuckles as she playfully flicks back her own dark brown tresses. “And I’m pretty sure that Lily’s straight, so she wouldn’t want to have a girlfriend, honorary or not!”

“Oh, for- Lily is not my girlfriend, seriously,” I say, earning giggles from Daisy and Farah even as Bailey blushes harder. Silently, I breathe a sigh of relief that they aren't latching onto my 'honorary girl' comment- my sisters would've dined out on that for weeks...

“Yet, maybe,” Daisy teases. “Though we’re not going to find out today, as it’s just the four of us for lunch.”

“The ones who CAN’T do gymnastics or dance, gotcha,” Farah chuckles, though her smile seems almost sad because of her words.

“Th- those wh- who d- d-d- don’t fit in,” Bailey says sadly.

“Meh, I dunno, it can be cool to be a misfit, you know?” I say, earning confused frowns from my friends.

“You’d rather be a misfit than popular?” Daisy asks incredulously as I try to keep my tears back again. To be what I REALLY want to be, I’d have no choice but to be a misfit…

“Well- sure,” I reply with a shrug. “I mean, like, when you’re popular, people only like you ‘cause you’re popular, but when you’re a misfit, you know your friends like you for, well, you. If that makes sense?” Especially as I just pulled that out of my arse, I think to myself. And when you’re a misfit, you go everywhere with a target on your back. And nothing could be more ‘misfit’ than being the only boy in a family full of girls. Except maybe being the only boy in a friendship group full of girls…

“Y- yeah, I think I get it,” Daisy says as I breathe a quiet sigh of relief at not putting my foot in it yet again. “Misfits rule!”

“Misfits rule!” I cheer along with my friends- and for the first time in a very long time, I finally start to feel like I actually belong somewhere. Both Daisy and I committed a faux pas during the lunch period, but we were both quickly forgiven and moved on, rather than being made fun of or being made to feel guilty about what we said- or, in other words, behaving how good friends should behave. How family should behave, even…

The lunch period seems to pass by in a blur as I and the other ‘misfits’ talk about our lives, our classes, our friends and all manner of other topics. Needless to say, by comparison, the final lesson of the day drags on and on until the bell finally rings, telling me that it’s time for me to make the short walk home, but my anxiety over my upcoming call is so great that even this feels like miles.

“Hi Liam,” Sonia says, muting her work call as I walk through the front door. “I’m going to make us a quick dinner before I give you your privacy.”

“Okay,” I say as I drop my bag and take off my coat and my shoes.

“Do you know what you want to talk about with your counsellor?” Sonia asks, momentarily making me freeze- there’s no way she could know already, is there?

“Umm, just- just stuff,” I mumble in reply.

“About mum and dad?” Sonia asks softly, making me blush again- this time with shame. In all my excitement over finally being able to come out to someone, I’d almost forgotten the real reason the meeting was set up in the first place.

“Y- yeah,” I reply. “And, like, stuff.”

“Okay,” Sonia whispers. “I get- I get this is something you might not want to share with me, so- okay. You have a right to your privacy, that’s why I’m heading out while you talk to them, heh. What I will say is that whatever you talk about, it’s good to write it down. Your counsellor will probably recommend that anyway, but- yeah. My counsellor told me to write down my feelings so I can revisit them later when I’m not feeling so- like, emotional.” Yeah, I’m not going to write THESE feelings down and leave them somewhere you can find them, I think to myself.

“I- I’ll think about it,” I mumble.

“Okay,” Sonia whispers, clearly unsatisfied by my reply. “Well, don’t waste too much time thinking about it when you could be doing it instead.” Not for the first time, my sister’s words strike a chord with me, and not for the first time, it’s not for the reason she thinks.

“What if it turns out it’s, like, not good for me?” I ask. “What if I spend so much time thinking about something, but when I finally do it, I- umm…” I end up being the target of every bully in school? I end up getting disowned by you or Melanie? I end up losing my friends? I end up wishing that I wasn’t ‘Lisa’ after all, despite my obsession going as far back as I can remember?

“…Well,” Sonia says, obviously confused by my words. “What I’d say, umm, is that- that’s probably something you’re better off talking about with the counsellor.” Nice save, I think to myself. “But, like, what I’ve always thought is that, like, if you want something enough, if it’s that important to you, you- you just have to bite the bullet and do it.”

“Well- okay, I guess,” I say with a shrug, before blushing as a sly grin spreads across my sister’s face.

“And I’m sure that even if she does say no, Lily will still be your friend,” Sonia says, giggling as I roll my eyes. “Oh, come on, you’re fourteen now, it’s only normal to be interested in girls. I guarantee that all of your girlf- all of your ‘friends who are girls’ are also interested in boys.”

“They think most of the boys at school are morons, though,” I retort, leaving ‘and so do I’ off the end of my sentence.

“They probably SAY that,” Sonia says without hesitation, “but even if they don’t want to admit it, every girl yearns to be the girlfriend of the star football player, the same way every boy yearns to be the boyfriend of the cheerleading captain- or, I suppose, ballerina in your case.” My eyes widen at Sonia's last sentence, and it actually takes me a second to realise that she’s implying that I want to be the boyfriend of the ballerina, rather than being the ballerina myself. Of course, there’s no reason why those two things should be mutually exclusive. Other than the fact that most ballerinas aren’t interested in boys who wish they were also ballerinas…

“If you say so,” I say with a shrug.

“Well, believe it or not, I DO remember being fourteen,” Sonia says. “It wasn’t THAT long ago. And I know it can be a pain, you know, homework, school ‘cliques’ and all that. But it can be a lot of fun too, you know? Okay, maybe not with covid, and not with- well, umm, other things.” Like the reason I’m seeing the counsellor? I think to myself. Well, the reason you think I’m seeing them, anyway…

“…Yeah,” I whisper.

“The important thing,” Sonia says, “is not to expect this to be, like, a ‘miracle cure’. The counsellor will help you. But it- it’s going to take a long time before, you know, you start to feel ‘better’, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah, I’m not expecting much,” I sigh, earning a sympathetic smile from my sister.

“It won’t be a waste of your time, even if it seems that way at first,” Sonia says. “The important thing is helping you feel better- and I want to help with that as much as I can too, remember that.”

“I will,” I mumble. “Thanks.”

“What are big sisters-come-guardians for?” Sonia asks, earning a smile from me as I help her make our dinner.

After we eat and wash up, Sonia takes her cue to head out, leaving me to myself as I head into my bathroom and boot up my laptop. As I wait for the call, it dawns on me that for the first time, I’m alone in the flat and I know that Sonia isn’t due back for a long time. For the first time, I have the opportunity to indulge, to express ‘Lisa’ for the first time in years, and the first ever on my own terms. The chance to be the girl I am on the inside is tantalising, almost too hard to resist… and yet I know that if I do, there’s no way I’d be able to get away with it. If I tried, Sonia would no doubt return early, or notice that something was wrong, or out of place, or- most of all- she’d ask why I hadn’t talked to the counsellor…

I sigh and shake my head to try to get such ideas out of my head as I log into Zoom and try to stay calm as I wait for the call to come through. According to the clock on my screen, I only wait four minutes, but it feels like an age as I read and re-read the notes on my screen about what I want to talk about- though the most important thing, obviously, is only 'written' in my head. When the call eventually comes through, I take a deep breath and answer, forcing a smile on my face as the image of the counsellor- a dark-haired man in his late thirties- appears on my screen.

“Hello,” the man says with a friendly, but seemingly cautious smile. “You must be Liam. My name’s Darren, Darren Tate, I’ve been helping your sister for a few months now, and she’s asked me to speak with you to see if I can be of any help in what must be a difficult time for you. Are you happy to speak with me today?”

“Sure,” I reply with a shrug, my heart beating increasingly quickly as I run through what feels like millions of different ways of saying what I really want to say.

“I’ve obviously been made aware of your situation,” Darren continues. “I’m sure you have a lot you want to go through, a lot you want to talk about, but first: how have you been doing over the last few months?”

“…Okay, I guess,” I reply with a shrug. “School just opened again this week, so I’ve been, like, getting back to normal there.”

“Yeah, I saw that on the news,” Darren says. “Are you feeling settled in your new school?”

“Umm, sure,” I reply. “I’ve been there, like, six months now, I’ve made friends, so- yeah. I mean, I can’t hang out with them outside of school, but- yeah. I probably wouldn’t be allowed to anyway, as all my friends are girls, heh.” I bite my lip as this last bit of information slips out inadvertently- it’s something I’d wanted to save for later, but I start to fidget as I realise that it might provide me with an unexpected opening.

“Okay,” Darren says as he types away on his keyboard. “Do you not get on well with the boys at the school?”

“We just- have, like, different things, like, not in common,” I mumble.

“But you have more in common with the girls?” Darren asks as my palms start to sweat. Okay, I think to myself. It’s coming, just a few seconds more…

“Umm, kinda,” I say in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Do you feel this is because you grew up with two older sisters?” Darren asks.

“Ah- no, definitely not,” I reply, before taking a deep breath. “It’s because I- I feel I- that I, like, should- should have been a girl myself…” My voice trails off as I finish my confession, my cheeks burning and my eyes welling up with tears despite my best efforts. Well, I’ve said it now, I think to myself. I can’t ‘unsay’ it…

“Do you- do you wish that you were a girl?” Darren asks, nodding and smiling supportively as I nod. “Okay, I- I wasn’t expecting this, I will admit, but this is clearly something that’s very important to you. Liam, I- you should know that I’m not qualified to diagnose gender dysphoria. I can give general advice, and I can certainly refer you to a colleague who will be able to help, but the waiting list is long. Does anybody else know about what you just told me? Your sisters, your friends?” Darren bites his lip as I shake my head. “Did- did your parents?”

“No,” I whisper. “And after everything while me and my sisters were growing up, I- I’m not sure they’d believe me anyway.”

“Okay,” Darren says softly. “Would you- would you like to tell me more about that?”

“Growing up, my sisters, they- they teased me,” I reply with a shaky voice. “Like, a lot.”

I spend the next 35 minutes baring my soul to my new counsellor, telling him everything about the ‘games’ my sisters would play with me (or rather, on me) when we were young, all the times I wished I’d been ‘Lisa’ instead of ‘Liam’, about the dreams in which I would be Lisa, even about my obsession and subsequent friendship with Lily upon starting school. All the while he types down what I say, nods and smiles supportively- but doesn’t judge or belittle me, not even once. By the time I’ve finished, my throat is almost hoarse from all the talking I’ve done- not to mention all the crying. And yet, I still feel guilty as Darren sits back and (presumably) looks at what he’s written on his screen- I didn’t mention my parents even once during the 35 minutes, other than their reactions to Sonia and Melanie’s ‘games’.

“Okay,” Darren says, clearly trying to compose his own thoughts. “It’s pretty clear even to me that this isn’t some spur of the moment whim. From the length of the time you’ve said you’ve had these feelings, and how much you say they occupy your thoughts, this isn’t something that should just be ignored or dismissed.” My heart starts beating faster as Darren speaks, though my heart sinks as I sense Darren leading up to a 'but'. “However, as I said before, I’m not qualified to deal with gender dysphoria, and while I absolutely will refer you to a colleague who can help, she has a long waiting list, and neither of us can recommend any form of treatment- even anything like beginning to explore your gender identity- without the consent of your legal guardian.”

“…Sonia,” I sigh.

“Which itself raises several issues,” Darren continues. “Liam, what- what was done to you when you were younger, your sisters’ ‘games’, that- that was not alright. Many people would call it bullying, abuse, even. However, there- there are many different reactions to abuse. There are those who rail against it, those who make excuses for it, there- Liam, have you- have you ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome?”

“Umm… is that a Swedish thing?” I ask, trying not to blush as my counsellor smiles.

“It’s a condition where a person can- speaking in very general terms- grow dependent on the thing that’s harming them,” Darren explains.

“Umm, okay,” I say. “So- what? You think I need to be a girl because of this Swedish thing?”

“I’m saying it- it’s something we can’t rule out,” Darren replies.

“Well, that- that’s not true,” I protest. “I HATED the way my sisters treated me when I was growing up. The chance- the chance to be- well, to, like, feel like a girl, I mean, it- it was the only good thing about it.”

“…But maybe you clung to that feeling because you needed to take some kind of positive from what was an overwhelmingly negative situation,” Darren retorts, and as hard as I try, I have no response to his words. “Regardless, as I said, I’m not an expert on gender identity issues. I can’t simply say ‘yes you are a girl’ or ‘no you’re not a girl’- to say either would be dangerously negligent of me even if I had had the training. But I promise that I will refer you to a colleague who will help you with this, who won’t rush to a decision, and who will ensure that you get what’s best for you.”

“…Thanks,” I mumble, my shoulders slumping as I realise that despite the last hour, despite finally being able to bare my soul, nothing has really changed- I’m still ‘Liam’, not ‘Lisa’. I’m still going to go to school tomorrow wearing the same plain grey trousers, I’m still going to have little or nothing in common with the girls- well, most of them, anyway. ‘Cause god knows I’m still going to be a ‘misfit’…

“I get that this has already been a difficult call for you,” Darren says gently. “And we haven’t yet touched on the real reason- well, the reason I was initially told I was calling you.”

“…Mum and dad,” I whisper emotionally. “God knows what they’d think of ‘Lisa’…”

“If you’d rather save that discussion for next time, I’ll understand,” Darren says. “But you’ve got me for another 30 minutes, and this is your time. Anything you want to say, I’ll listen.”

“Thanks,” I say, before sighing, the events of the day leaving me utterly exhausted. “I- I dunno. I got so excited to, like, finally come out, but now it’s happened, I- I dunno.”

“You feel kinda deflated?” Darren asks, smiling as I nod. “It’s okay. I get it, and it was a big step coming out, even if it is to a professional, rather than publicly or to a family member. Don’t feel like you haven’t achieved something today, Liam, because you have, and the next few steps you take won’t be alone.”

“Thanks,” I say again. “I- heh. I think I’d better leave mum and dad until next time, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Darren says. “If you need to send me a message at any time, feel free to use the chat from this call. Will you be okay for the rest of the evening?”

“Yeah,” I reply with a shrug. “Sonia will be home in a bit, and I’m probably going to spend the rest of the evenings chatting with the girls anyway.”

“Which I imagine you’re looking forward to more than you were looking forward to this call?” Darren asks, smiling as I blush. “It’s okay, I get it. And it’s definitely a positive, having a friendship group you can rely on, especially with the pandemic and all.”

“Yeah,” I say with a smile. “They’ve definitely made the last few months a lot easier.” And infinitely easier than Harry and his meatheads would’ve made it for me, I think to myself with a small shudder.

“Good,” Darren says. “I won’t take up any more of your ‘chatting with friends’ time, then. I’ll talk to you next Tuesday, and if I hear from my gender identity colleague in the meantime, I’ll let you know.”

“Okay,” I say, smiling as I end the call with a wave, before letting out a long sigh. My counsellor is right when he says that I’ve taken a big step, and that I won’t need to take the next few alone. What he obviously doesn’t realise, or neglected to mention, is that the next few steps are going to be much, much bigger. Coming out to Sonia. Coming out to Melanie. Coming out to my friends. Living openly as ‘Lisa’.

…Assuming, of course, that Darren is wrong, and ‘Lisa’ isn’t just a reaction, a coping mechanism for the ‘treatment’ my sisters gave me when I was younger. I’d long since suspected that, contrary to what they’d told me at the time, Sonia and Melanie’s ‘treatment’ of me was far from ‘normal’. Lily, Bailey and Bryony’s tales of their older (and in the latter case, also younger) siblings just confirmed my suspicions. However, I’d also used Lily and Bryony’s older sisters as ‘proof’ that my need to be 'Lisa' was valid- only now, I’m not as certain. Sure, those feelings occupy my mind on a daily- sometimes even hourly basis. Sometimes it’s all I can think about. But is that because it’s just a ‘coping mechanism’? If that’s the case, how come those feelings are stronger than ever, even after Sonia and Melanie have promised to stop their ‘games’?

My mind is so preoccupied with these thoughts and countless more that I barely even register when my phone beeps to inform me of a new message- though the message quickly brings the smile back to my face.

‘Hey Liam,’ Bailey's message reads, instantly bringing a smile to my face. ‘Me and some of the girls are in a group call and we saw that you’re now free, let me know if you want to join and I’ll invite you in.’ Needless to say, I waste no time in replying in the affirmative, and within seconds, Bailey, Daisy, Farah and Ari’s smiling faces pop up on screen.

“Hi Liam!” Daisy yells excitedly. “It’s just us today, the other girls are busy pirouetting or something.”

“Ah- right, dance class is on a Tuesday,” I say.

“So they’ll be along later,” Farah says. “But more importantly, how are you? We were told it was your first meeting today with your counsellor?”

“Yeah, it was-“ I reply, before pausing. It was an hour of talking about something I can’t tell any of you about, I think to myself. Something I daren’t tell any of you about, at least…

“I- i- i- if it was p- p- private,” Bailey nervously says to break the awkward silence I caused.

“No, i- it’s okay,” I reply. “Though I, umm, would prefer to keep to myself. For now, like.” Forever, maybe, I think to myself with a sad smile that the girls immediately pick up on.

“If it wasn’t for stupid covid, I’d come right over to give you a hug,” Daisy announces, making me smile and the other girls giggle.

“Virtual hugs will be fine for now,” I reply with a chuckle that the other girls echo.

Wait, ‘other’ girls? I think to myself. I’ve barely been chatting with the four of them for a minute, and already it’s like any feelings of not belonging, of feeling like I’m out of place or don’t fit in have just washed away. In no time at all, I’ve allowed myself to feel like I am just another one of the girls, regardless of how I’m dressed, or even what image I'm 'projecting'. And the funny thing is, even though I’m now aware of these previously subconscious feelings, it hasn’t actually changed anything. I still feel like one of the girls, like I’m part of a special ‘group’ where my birth gender doesn’t matter, and nor does the fact that I'm an orphan, or- as Darren insists- an abuse survivor. In this moment, I am, without any 'ifs' or 'buts', one of the girls. The only thing that makes me sad is that I know the chat won’t last forever, even if I’ll be seeing the girls again at school less than 24 hours from now.

Before that can happen, though, the chat suddenly gets noisier as we’re joined by five other girls, whose hair tied into severe buns atop their heads immediately gives away what they’ve spent the last hour doing- and provides a sharp contrast to the free-flowing hair (or in Farah’s case, hijab-covered hair) of the rest of us- even my own nearly shoulder-length light brown locks.

“Hey girlies!” Lily cheers as she, Molly, Bryony, Sabrina and Jo all appear on-screen. “Well- girlies and honorary girlie, hehe!” I blush as the girls all giggle- as the only boy in the chat, it’s obvious that I’m the ‘honorary girlie’.

“Hey everyone!” Daisy cheers as excitedly as she waves at the newcomers. “Did you have a good class?”

“Yep!” Sabrina replies as she unties her bun and lets her hair hang free- something that nearly makes me shudder as I realise that her hair is almost the exact same colour as mine. Even if it is much, much longer…

“Nicole wasn’t too much of a pain, then?” Farah asks- Nicole being Sabrina’s sister and one of the junior instructors of the class.

“She wasn’t taking the class, thank god!” Sabrina replies with a giggle. “It was Madame Renou-Briggs herself, thank god. Heh, never thought I’d be saying THAT.”

“Is the- is the French teacher strict, then?” I ask, earning giggles from the ‘non-misfits’.

“Definitely,” Jo replies. “I think I heard somewhere that she nearly, very nearly made it as a professional ballerina herself, but just missed out and had to go into teaching instead, so she’s absolutely obsessed with perfection from her students.”

“She’s less strict with the younger kids, though,” Bryony explains. “Dee- my sister, who’s eight- absolutely adores her. As does Cassie, but you could literally put a tutu on a sack of potatoes and she’d go crazy for it, heh.” I chuckle along with the rest of the girls at my friend’s joke- even though I’ve never so much as seen a photo of Bryony’s sister, I already feel like I know her well enough to understand what she’s getting at.

“And less strict with the boys in the class,” Jo says, before giggling devilishly. “Which is a pity, as I certainly wouldn’t mind a few more full-screen images of Jake…” Naturally, this elicits ‘oohs’ from the rest of the girls, and shortly afterward, a text message to me.

‘Ah, ballet and boys, same as every other Tuesday evening,’ Bailey types with a ‘winking’ emoji. ‘Jo didn't even try to make a natural sounding segue to the topic of her current crush! Cue for us ‘misfits’ to sit back and listen lol.’

‘I don’t mind too much,’ I reply.

‘I imagine not, as Lily was twerking when you joined the call last Tuesday,’ Bailey texts with another ‘winking’ emoji, even though on-screen my friend looks like she’s almost about to cry. ‘Sorry, I should’ve thought before typing, that wasn’t very funny.’

‘I thought it was funny,’ I type with a ‘shrugging’ emoji that makes my friend immediately perk up.

‘You don’t have to say that,’ Bailey types.

‘It’s funnier than Lily’s bum, that’s for sure,’ I type, actually earning a breathy laugh from the bespectacled girl on screen- though this goes unnoticed by the chat as a whole, making me feel almost sorry for my friend.

‘I know where I rank next to her derriere,’ Bailey types with a ‘sad smile’ emoji. ‘God knows if I tried twerking it wouldn’t just be me who died of embarrassment, but everyone watching too. Same goes for ANY kind of dancing.’

‘You shouldn’t put yourself down like that,’ I chastise my friend, who blushes on-screen.

‘I’m just being realistic,’ Bailey retorts. ‘Who would look at me when they could look at Lily or Molly instead?’ I would, I think to myself as I prepare to reply, before feeling an odd flutter pass through my body. Would I really, though? Sure, Lily may be ‘objectively’ prettier than her, but Bailey’s far from ugly, even if she does never wear any make-up- or maybe even because she never does? And one thing’s for certain- there are infinitely more boys who would be interested in her than girls who would be interested in ‘Lisa’…

‘Any boy with a brain,’ I eventually reply, earning a sad smile from my friend.

‘But not any boy with eyes?’ Bailey replies with a ‘laughing’ emoji as I start to feel genuinely sad for my friend. I’m sure she thinks she’s being funny- and her jokes are genuinely witty, I suppose- but seeing her lack of self-esteem just makes my heart break. And reminds me of just how little self-esteem I have left after my childhood as my sisters’ plaything. Before I can type a reply, though, Bailey continues typing.

‘I actually tried wearing make-up once,’ my friend says, her message coming across almost like a confession. ‘It was a complete disaster, my hands are so wonky my eyeliner wound up more on my nose than anything. I thought about asking my sister to help, but I didn’t want to waste her time. Or any more make-up lol.’

‘Why not ask the other girls to help?’ I suggest.

‘They probably would, but I wouldn’t want to waste their time either,’ Bailey replies. ‘I even tried doing a few ballet steps once to an online video for beginners and wound up on my backside quicker than it took the video to load lol.’

‘The girls would DEFINITELY help there,’ I type.

‘Again, probably,’ Bailey types. ‘Though THAT would be a MUCH bigger waste of time.’

‘Not if it’s something you really want,’ I type, biting my lip as Bailey ponders her reply- if it wasn’t something she truly wanted, you would think she’d reply immediately to say something to that effect, rather than type for as long as she has.

‘It’d be embarrassing though,’ Bailey eventually replies. ‘Saying to Lily ‘hey, I really wish I could be more like you’.’ And you don’t know how much I sympathise with you there, I think to myself as I try not to cry myself. Hell, I wish I could be more like YOU than myself…

‘Do you wish you could be more like Lily?’ I ask, my fingers shaking with nerves.

‘Definitely,’ Bailey replies. ‘She’s slender, pretty, flexible too.’ I smirk as I glance back at the video chat, where Lily is demonstrating Bailey’s last point by stretching one leg high above her head. ‘She doesn’t stammer either.’ I bite my lip as I see Bailey blush bright red and almost break down in tears on-screen- clearly this has been a big thing for her to confess this.

‘She doesn’t write poetry as well as you, though,’ I type, smiling as my bespectacled friend chuckles.

‘She does YouTube and social media infinitely better than me,’ Bailey retorts. ‘So when she’s older she’ll be living in a big posh influencer house wearing designer clothes, while I’ll probably be living in a small flat surrounded by cats wearing a dress made out of old curtains or something.’ Which is still a better prospect than 'Liam's future, I think to myself. ‘Ugh, I’m sorry I’ve put all this on you, Liam, especially with what you’re going through right now.’

‘I don’t mind, honestly,’ I reply. If anything, it’s helped take my mind off of things, I think to myself. Well, some things, anyway, I muse as I see Molly showing off the denim dungaree dress she’s pulled on over her long-sleeved dance leotard.

‘You’re a great friend,’ Bailey types, and despite myself, I feel a tear trickle down my cheek. ‘Any girl would be lucky to have you as their boyfriend, assuming they don’t mind you being called ‘honorary girlie’ every now and again.’ Only as long as they don’t mind taking off ‘honorary’ every now and again too, I think to myself.

‘Lol,’ I type in response. ‘And I don’t mind listening, I enjoy talking to you, you know that.’

‘Thanks,’ Bailey types as she continues to blush. ‘And if you ever need to confide in me, I’m only ever a message away.’ If only it was that easy, I think to myself. If only I could muster up even a tiny fraction of the courage necessary to tell Bailey how I really feel- who I really am, deep down inside.

However, on the positive side, I do now have at least someone I can confide in- even if it’s just for one hour a week. And it’s something he’s not trained to advise me on. And I’m no closer to coming out to my friends or my sisters, and certainly no closer to being ‘Lisa’, even if just for one second. And yet, I somehow feel optimistic that things could change- or even that they might change. Bailey trusts me- someone she’s only known for six months- enough to confide in me about her feelings. Knowing the friends she- or rather, we- have, it’s a safe bet she’s a supporter of transgender issues. Hell, part of the reason I joined the group of friends was because I perceived them to be trans-inclusive. And while what I was led to believe about Lily turned out to be wrong, there’s no denying that they are inclusive. I just wish I knew for certain whether or not Bailey would be inclusive of ‘Lisa’ as a close friend- especially as she's quickly becoming more than 'just another friend' to me...