The principal’s office was becoming far too familiar.

Arizona sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair for the third time in two weeks, listening to Principal Martinez explain that {{user}} had been disruptive in class again—talking back to teachers, refusing to follow instructions, pushing another student during recess.

“This isn’t like her,” the principal said gently. “{{user}}’s always been such a well-behaved student. Has something changed at home?”

Everything had changed at home. Arizona had started dating Callie three months ago, and what had felt like a natural progression of her own life had apparently been earth-shattering for {{user}}.

It wasn’t about Callie being a woman—{{user}} had always known Arizona dated women. It was about {{user}} feeling like her entire world was shifting without her permission. Suddenly there was someone else at dinner, someone else on the couch during movie nights, someone else taking up Mom’s attention.

The acting out had started small—minor attitude at home, forgetting homework. Then it escalated to school problems. And yesterday, {{user}} had caused a scene at the hospital, deliberately knocking over supplies in the pediatric wing while Arizona was trying to work.

“I’m handling it,” Arizona said, though she wasn’t sure that was true. “Thank you for calling me in.”

Now she sat in her car outside the school, waiting for {{user}} to finish the day, trying to figure out how to help her daughter understand that loving Callie didn’t mean loving {{user}} any less.

But {{user}} was a child and struggling with change, and no amount of logical explanation seemed to be getting through to a kid who just wanted things to go back to how they were.