"I just don't know what to do, you know? He's confused. That's what I think it is. He's a teenager and he doesn't understand life yet. I mean, he has always had very feminine features and the kids use to tease him for the way he looked and acted. They called him Alexandria instead of Alex. They use to ask him the most disturbing questions. He thinks that he is a women trapped inside a man's body and sometimes dresses as if he is a female to feel normal. He has told me that more people accept him than they use to but I do not approve of his actions for god would be ashamed. I came here to ask you for advice as to how to handle this. What should I do about my son?" She thinks I can't hear her. I am what I want to be. I don't see why I was forced to come here when all I am doing is sitting in the room next to them, listening to their conversation. I feel like a fly on the wall just hearing of what she thinks of me. "Well, Mrs. Brooks, have you tried talking to your child about the topic at hand? Maybe you should ask him/her why they feel this way. Try understanding from his point of view and tell him respectfully what you feel about his/her decisions. For the sake of keeping close to your son, try to understand and let him know that you are there for him." My own mother doesn't like me. I never felt quite right with being who i was before. I prefer to be Amanda May Brooks than to be Alexander Micheal Brooks. I am who I am for me. I am not seeking attention nor am I doing this to make other people happy. I am the one who wants to be happy and if people were to understand then maybe none of this conflict would occur. I started to tune out the conversation when my mother started yelling at the therapist. I could hear her keys jingling against her handbag simultaneously with her new heels clicking on the polished floor. "Lets go, Alexander."
