Mom (Me): Hello girls.

Libra (The Friend): Mom! How are you doing?

Mom: I’m okay Libra; thank you for asking.

Ivy (The Companion): How is Lark holding up?

Mom: She’s coping. I appreciate you girls giving her space.

Ivy: Thank goodness — I hope she turns out alright.

Mom: She will, she just needs time. How about you girls? Do you feel any different now that you’ve had some time to process?

(Everyone is quiet for a moment as the girls contemplate my question.)

Ivy: I just want our family to come together. I don’t know what to think about the new girl, but I hope she finds her way back to us.

Libra: I’m okay too. I’m still shocked, but I’m with Ivy — I want to be a family. You said the new girl is our sister, so I want to meet her and love her. I hope we get along alright.

Mom: I think things will work out in that regard, though I’m sure it’ll take some effort. What about you, Bloom?

(Bloom, who had been sitting silently up to this point, jumps slightly at the mention of her name. It takes her a moment to compose herself enough to answer.)

Bloom (The Survivor): I want the same things my big sisters want — for the new girl to join our family.

Mom: I’m glad to hear that, but how do you feel about it?

Bloom (hesitant): I… I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure that out.

Mom (concerned): Hmm… Is that something I can help you with?

Bloom: I’m just sort of shocked and confused still?

Ivy: Same, honestly. Lark had another personality stuck inside her without realizing it — the new girl was inside her this whole time, right? I mean… Can you even imagine what that would be like?

Mom: This is my head, so I can by definition.

Ivy: I suppose I should have expected that, but what about us? Do we have anyone else inside of us?

Mom: Hmm, let’s talk about that. Do you feel like you have anyone else inside you?

Ivy: I don’t, no. I feel like my role as The Companion is pretty straightforward, and that persona was dominant for you in your early-to-mid 30s, right? I know we had other things going on back then, but our relationship with our partner was kind of the focus of our whole life back then.

Mom: I agree with you, Ivy — I don’t think you have a twin sister riding along inside you. What about you, Libra?

(Libra takes a moment to think before responding.)

Libra: My persona was dominant in college, right? A lot of things happened in college. We learned new things, we explored new experiences, we met new people. I’m just The Friend, so who’s to say some of those other experiences aren’t represented by their own personas?

Mom: You raise an interesting point, but do you feel like you were a different kind of person when you did those things? Do you feel internally conflicted now?

Libra: Hmm… No, I suppose I don’t. Maybe I don’t have anyone else in here after all.

Mom: I don’t think you do. It’s true that you were doing new things, but you experienced a lot of those things in relation to other people — through them and with them. So being The Friend encompasses a lot of that, and most of the rest falls under The Dreamer’s purview.

Libra (contemplative): That’s a bit of a relief, honestly. What about you, Bloom?

(Bloom sits silently again, lost in her own thoughts.)

Libra: Hey, sis?

Bloom (startled): Oh! Sorry, what are we talking about?

Libra (concerned): Are your okay? Mom asked us if we feel like we have anyone else inside us.

Bloom (timid): Oh.

(Bloom thinks for a moment. She seems not to have noticed Libra’s concern for her at all.)

Bloom: I’m sorry Mom… I don’t know.

Mom (caring): I know you don’t dearest. Can we focus on what you do know?

Bloom (hesitant): Okay… I’m the Survivor. I survived… And I’m pretty sure that’s my whole deal. Can’t get much more clear than that.

Mom: Fair enough.

Libra (animated): No, not fair enough! That’s not an answer to Mom’s question — How could you not know how you feel about this?

Bloom (nervous): I mean… I don’t know if I can talk about this, Mom.

Mom (encouraging): Why don’t you start and I’ll pick up where you leave off.

Bloom (halting): Okay, I think I can do that… You know how each of us has an age range where our persona was dominant?

Libra: Yes; I just mentioned mine was college.

Bloom: Mine was high school. Yours starts where mine ends, and Lark’s starts where yours ends, and Ivy’s starts where Lark’s ends.

Ivy: Exactly; our age ranges combine into an unbroken timeline, all the way until…

Mom: Transition. After I transitioned, I finally started to feel like myself. That was at age 40.

Bloom: So an unbroken timeline until age 40, but I’m the youngest. We weren’t born a teenage girl, obviously. So what comes before me?

Libra: Well high school is when puberty hit and we were flooded with hormones, so that’s when our identity as a trans girl really started to come together.

Bloom (upset): Is it!? Puberty definitely started in the middle of middle school for us. And Mom is pretty adamant that she’s always been a girl. So I should have a younger sister!

Libra (surprised): Okay, I believe you, I guess! So who is it then?

Bloom (sobbing): I don’t know! Who was I back then? Why can’t I remember?

(Bloom breaks down crying as Libra and Ivy stand shocked. I pull Bloom into a hug as she cries softly in my arms.)

Mom: Bloom’s age range starts in high school because my memories of that time are coherent enough to project them into a persona — into Bloom. If I try to remember who I was before that… Things get tenuous.

Libra (confused): Tenuous how? Surely we remember who we were, right?

Mom: Have you tried?

Libra: No, but I’m sure if I… Um… Uh…

(Tears appear in the corners of Libra’s eyes as she stammers.)

Libra (tearful): I can’t remember… Why can’t I remember? Why am I crying?

Mom: As I said, things get tenuous if we try to remember who we were before high school. The further we think back, the harder we try, the more we convince ourselves that it’s information we should already have. They’re our memories, after all… But they’re gone.

Ivy (incredulous): Surely there’s a way to recover something from that time?

Mom: I haven’t found it yet.

Bloom (crying): So that’s what’s before me. A memory void. Whatever was there is still part of us — we all feel that emotionally — but I don’t know what that is. There’s just this sense that I might have a little sister who’s stuck back there and can’t heal because I can’t find her. Or maybe I’m just crying for myself. I don’t know for sure one way or the other, and trying to figure it out on my own hurts *so much.*

Mom (calmly): It’s okay, Bloom. You don’t have to figure this out, and none of us are alone here.

(Bloom gasps as her tears start to subside. Libra wipes the remnants of her own tears out of her eyes.)

Libra: I’m sorry I was so pushy, Bloom. I didn’t realize this would hurt so much…

Bloom: It’s okay, Libra. I know you didn’t mean any harm.

Libra: Thanks, Bloom. I still love you, little sister.

Bloom: I love you too, big sister.