When I was about 16, a youth worker from my mother’s church invited me out for a cup of tea. I think he thought from my appearance that I was Ally Sheedy in The Breakfast Club and that he was going to be giving me the makeover. I smiled indulgently as he poured the milk: I appreciated the concern.
After five minutes, he put his teacup down and looked me in the eye.
“You know, you are not at all how I expected you to be.”
I laughed. “Well, what did you expect?” Continue reading