Can I talk to you for a minute? I will never forget this question. It was posed by one of the camp staff on a Wednesday, the year I turned 12. It was the year my life was to change for the better. At this point in my pre-teeness, however, I was in a dark, sarcastic, and moody place. I wanted out of this cheery and overly positive environment. All I wanted to do is sulk. We sat in wooden chairs down by the water. It was a quiet time after lunch. It was at this moment, that I felt transformed. Someone was actually listening to how I was feeling and not laughing about it. This person had questions and allowed me to answer them in my teen speak, often probing for more, but allowing me to be me.