Chapter 21

Waitingto see Dr. Denten the next morning was very nerve-wracking.

Mandi sat on the bench outside the psychologist's office and tapped her foot incessantly, the sound echoing against the white marble floor.

She'd woken up in Mommy Amelia's arms this morning, and it had been lovely. This time they'd remembered about work and had gotten up with plenty of time to have breakfast together and head downstairs. Mandi had gotten on with her displays, until a quarter to eleven had hit and Mommy had suggested that she go a bit early so she wouldn't be late.

In hindsight, all that had meant was that Mandi had spent the last fifteen minutes sitting outside Dr. Denten's office, working herself up into a bit of a tizzy. By the time the psychologist opened the door, Mandi was wriggling in a decidedly unhappy manner.

"Hello, Mandi, I'm Catherine Denten, or as the Littles call me, Ms. Cat. However, if you'd like, when in our sessions, you may call me Cat," she said, short brown hair falling in front of her face. "Would you like to come in?"

"Not really," said Mandi, and forced a smile. "But I guess that's the point with something like this, right? If we wanted to do it, then we wouldn't have to."

"Well," said Dr. Denten, "sometimes working on ourselves becomes something that we actually enjoy doing, even if it's tough at times."

Mandi nodded stiffly, stood and walked into the room. She knew she was behaving weirdly, but she had no way of moderating her actions at this point, she was so overwhelmed.

"Mandi, why don't you take a look around before we settle into the session?" said Cat. "There's no rush. I've got an hour penciled in for us to talk."

An hour felt like a very long time. "Sure," said Mandi, and she headed straight for the bookshelf. There were books, games and some toys there, but no stuffies. She browsed the books for a bit, tapping her foot and jiggling around to try and get all of her nerves out.

"Would you like to do a big yell?" asked Cat. "Sometimes that can help us to settle our nervous systems. The part of your brain that contains your amygdala is responsible for your fight or flight instincts and often triggers anxiety and panic attacks. We're so used to stress being a part of our day to day lives, that our brains never fully have the chance to reset. Our brains are permanently afraid that we're about to get eaten by a tiger!"

The visual her words caused to instantly appear made Mandi giggle. "So you're saying I should shout to scare away the tiger?"

"It's one of the things you can do to help reset your body physiologically. Would you like to give it a go?"

Mandi nodded, but her first attempt was more of a little quiet, "Argh."

"Argh? Is that it?" Cat sat in one of oversized chairs near the coffee table. "Why don't you try that again, and this time you make yourself as big as you can possibly get. Stretch all the way out and yell. And it doesn't have to be ‘argh', it can be any word or noise you like."

Mandi turned to face the window, solidly planted her feet shoulder's width apart, and let loose. There weren't any distinguishable words, or even a noise that could be described in a single syllable, but it felt as if her pain had been wrenched from the very depths of her soul, and when she was done, she stood there, panting heavily.

"Now, that was an excellent noise," said Cat Denten. "Would you like to talk now?"

Mandi nodded. "Do I have to sit on a chair?"

"Not at all; you can sit wherever you like. And there's a purple stuffie called Ellie behind the couch, if you'd like to cuddle him?"

A stuffie seemed like an excellent idea, and Mandi internally berated herself for not thinking to bring along Beau.

"I have a stuffie," she said. "His name is Beau but I left him in my room ‘cause I'm stupid."

"Well, that's a very harsh word to use about yourself," said Cat. "Why don't you grab Ellie and come sit down and tell me why you feel that way."

Ellie was an excellent stuffie, a huge purple floppy thing that fit in Mandi's arms perfectly. It felt like his trunk was hugging her.

She flopped onto the floor and looked up at Cat. "‘Cause I know he makes me feel better, but I forgot to bring him anyways." Shifting, she realized that her Little was peeking out. "I's gone a little bit Little, is that okay?"

"Of course it is," said Cat. "I know a lot of Littles. Hello, Little Mandi."

"Hello," Mandi muttered back and fought the urge to suck her thumb.

"So why are you here?"

"‘Cause I'm scared, like, all of the time. And Master Derek said if I wanted to stay, then talking to someone would be a good idea, and so I'm doin' the talkin'." She was dropping letters all over the place, her anxiety coming through in her words. "But also, I almost lost my Little ‘cause I had a horrible Daddy. I didn't want to be Little anymore ‘cause I was doing it wrong."

"I don't think," said Cat gently, "that it's even possible to do being Little wrong."

That stoppered Mandi's torrent of words and she furrowed her brow, thinking hard. "No?"

"Well, I've met all kinds of Littles, both here on the Ranch and out there in the big wide world. And all of them are unique; being Little means something different to everyone. I'm always somewhat envious of Littles myself—in therapy we are always encouraging people to heal their inner child, and you Littles seem to have a shortcut to that inner child built in!"

Mandi smiled shyly. It was nice to hear someone see being Little as something other than just a kink. The kinky aspect of it was fun, but it was more to her than that. So much more. "This is true," she said. "I suppose that's kind of lucky."

"What do you think it is that your Little is trying to heal?"

Mandi didn't have to think too hard; she knew immediately. "My Little wants me to be happy. I think she went away for a while because I didn't know if I could ever be happy again, and I didn't want her to be infected by that. Didn't want her to be sad."

"It's okay for Littles to be sad sometimes, did you know that?"

Mandi shook her head furiously. "No!"

"No?" Cat didn't seem cross, just curious.

"No, I'm supposed to look after her, and if she's sad, then I'm not looking after her properly." She sobered up, suddenly Big. "If she's super sad, then I'm not looking after me properly."

That felt somewhat like a breakthrough.

"I guess," she continued slowly, "I guess it felt like it was okay for me to be sad, as long as my Little side didn't feel sad too. If she's really, really sad, then it feels like I'm properly broken." Her eyes started to well up. "I don't want to be broken."

She hugged Ellie the Elephant to her and rocked back and forth where she sat, letting her tears soak the stuffie's fur.

Cat didn't say much, just pushed a box of tissues toward her on the table. It was nice actually, not having someone interject or step in or try and push her into pretending she was all right when she wasn't. Mandi suddenly felt as if it was okay not to be okay. She'd never had that sensation before.

"In what ways do you think you're broken, Mandi?"

"Logically I know that all the ways I think I'm broken aren't actually things. But I still feel them."

"Well, tell me what you feel."

"I feel like I'm too much. That being autistic means that I'm never going to fit in or belong anywhere. That I do things wrong because I don't know the rules, or the ways that I'm supposed to do them. And that's hard. It's exhausting to have to guess and second guess every decision you make, every action you take. I hate it."

Cat looked sympathetic. "That does sound hard. Really hard."

Mandi sighed. "It is, and out there, in the world?" She gestured toward the window. "Out there, people care if you're different. They don't like it. If you don't fit in, then you're cast out and I hate that about it."

"You say ‘out there'; does it mean that it feels different ‘in here'?"

Mandi nodded. "It does. In here, I feel like I actually belong, like I don't have to squeeze myself into a tiny box to make myself fit in."

"Have you considered staying here for longer?"

Mandi sighed. "I can't really afford it."

"I'm not saying stay here as a guest, I mean stay here as a Little. Master Derek said that you've been working in the Littles' Library, and he has been looking to hire an assistant librarian to help Amelia Grayson. There are options if you want to explore them."

Frozen.

That's how Mandi felt.

Frozen solid.

"Mandi? Are you okay?"

"I… I… I don't know how I could do that."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been"—she blushed hotly—"trying out a dynamic with Momm-Amelia Grayson. It's been amazing. Best thing ever, but this is my third day. There's u-hauling, and then there's u-hauling."

That made Cat laugh. "It doesn't mean that you'd have to move in with Amelia; you could continue on with developing your relationship—if the both of you wanted—at a pace that suited you best. You could room in the Littles' Wing instead. You might find it helpful for making friends, actually."

"But wouldn't that put pressure on her, to continue this?"

Cat looked thoughtful. "If you like, we could brainstorm how best you could bring up this idea with her, so as not to pressure her into continuing the dynamic if it's not something she wants long-term. I'm not saying—" she added hurriedly, looking at Mandi's trembling lip, "that she's not looking for something long term, but that's a conversation you'd have to have with her. And you'd need to speak with Master Derek as well, of course."

Mandi nodded, thoughtfully. "And if I did, would it be possible to continue seeing you? Maybe some regular sessions?"

"Definitely," said Cat.

She knew that such huge changes deserved consideration, but Mandi felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. For the first time in a long time, she had hope.