“It’s not obvious to me.” She said it so matter of factly that it caught me off guard.

I lowered my head; shame and embarrassment bubbled up inside me. “He’s the most popular guy at school and I’m . . .” I paused and waved my arm around myself a few times. “You know, I’m . . .” I waved my arm even more. “You know!”

“Trying to swat a fly?” she asked.

I looked at her pointedly. “You know what I’m trying to say.”

“Say it.” Her eyes dug into me.

“You of all people must know what I mean,” I heard myself hiss at her.

“No, I don’t, not if you don’t tell me.”

I looked straight back at her. Her eyes were challenging me. I stood up, looked around, and dropped the spade on the ground angrily.

“You know what, this is stupid.” I threw my arms in the air. “I mean, what are we even doing? This isn’t therapy. I’m digging around in a garden for heaven’s sake.”

Vicki stood up, too, rising to the challenge.

“What do you want me to say?” I asked sarcastically.

She shrugged, and it pissed me off.

“Right! Okay. How ’bout this? Fat, ugly!” I shot those words out at her, and then gasped. I took a step back.

“Is that the first time you’ve said those words out loud?”

I nodded.

“And how did they sound?”

I bit down on my lip as my throat constricted. “Terrible,” I confessed.

“Would you ever call someone that out loud?” she asked. “Me, for instance. Would you ever call me that to my face?”

“No. Never.”

“And yet, that’s what you’re calling yourself in your head every single day.” Her voice took on a soft, compassionate tone. “Probably more often than you think.”

The first small tear escaped my eye and slid down my cheek. “Yes,” I whispered, so choked up that the word barely came out of my mouth.

“Who called you those words?”

Tears stung my eyes and I blinked. “The kids at school. Not at art school, the one before.”

“And did you like it, when they called you that?” she asked.

“Of course not. What do you think? I mean, they even tried to drown me once.”

“And yet . . .” She left the sentence open ended and looked at me, as if pushing me to fill in the blanks. But I couldn’t.

“And yet, what?”

“And yet you continue calling yourself those things. So the bullying hasn’t really stopped, has it? Except you’re the one bullying yourself this time.”

Her words hit me like a lightning bolt. “I guess when you put it like that.”

“How do you think your best friends would describe you if I phoned them and asked?”

“Andile and Guy?” I forced a smile. “Not like that.”

“Then what?”