She was Dorinda. She was a tom boy. She wasn’t a girl.“You ought to talk to Dr Peterson,” she said afterwards, while she was slowly and very pai...fully refastening her blouse. She’d been crying and the blackcurrant pulp had run down her cheek, and the blouse had been torn, and she was holding her bra in her hand.“I should?”“I heard my Aunt Nellie say that your mum goes to see him every week.”“That’s because he’s her doctor.”“But that’s not why she goes to see him.”“What do you know about why she. I briefly wondered what I should do with all my oldclothes, or how I would get more than just seven outfits. Lidia justlooked at me the whole time I had been thinking to myself. She slowlyset down on the bed next to me putting a hand on my back."I think I see what it is now, your confident in who you are. It showsin the way you hold yourself, how you're talking now, even how you'readdressing me. You truly have accepted who you are. I am really happyfor you. It takes most girls a long time. More

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