Gemotions

My stomach lurched as I read the nameplate. “Brenda Miller, LMFT.” Brenda Miller? *The* Brenda Miller? My kindergarten nemesis, Brenda Miller, the girl who once convinced me I could fly off the jungle gym? I felt my palms begin to sweat. I fiddled with the strap of my purse, suddenly feeling terribly underdressed. This couldn't be right.

I cautiously opened the door to her office. It was decorated with calming colors, soft lighting, and plants everywhere. A stark contrast to Brenda's old stomping ground, the unforgiving blacktop of the elementary school. She looked up, her expression softening. Even though her face had matured, those familiar, piercing blue eyes instantly transported me back to recess.

“Sarah?” she asked, her voice gentle, completely unlike the booming commands I remembered. I could only manage a shaky, “Brenda?” The shift in power, the utter reversal, left me speechless.