A couple of big things happened this week.

First, we pulled Gutsy out of school. It was a decision we had been toying with for a little while. For years, she's been a bit of a square peg in a round holed system, unable to fit in academically or socially. Lately it's proven even more challenging. I guess when you're trans*, hearing impaired, have a severe processing disorder, anxiety and depression, school can get to be a little much. Or a lot much.

"I'm afraid we're losing her," one school professional admitted to me on Monday. "I feel we've tried everything, and she's just shutting down. She's such a bright kid. We need to find some way to reach her." When we looked at all the stress she's dealing with these days - an unimaginable amount, if you ask me - and thought about what we could take out of the equation, school became the obvious choice.

After that, the decision was incredibly simple.

No more fighting with her tooth and nail each morning to get her to a place she hates. No more heartbreak when she admits almost nobody will talk to her, or tells us that her only two friends will be moving away this summer and won't be going to middle school with her in the fall. Most importantly, no more hiding her transition from everyone but a handful of classmates. Gutsy has been wearing mostly boy clothes to school; not because she wants to, but because she felt she had to in order to protect herself. She was terrified.

Nobody should have to hide who they are.

This means I'll be homeschooling. People, I might just be the most reluctant homeschooler of all time. It's totally selfish, but I'm going to miss being alone in the house. It also means I need to cut back a little on building my career (again) and that I'll have to precariously balance her school needs and mine, as I attempt to get my final high school credit in the fall.

It might also mean the two of us have to learn new ways of communicating frustration to one another beyond screaming and slamming doors and being epic drama queens. We have always been so stereotypically mother and daughter that I'm surprised I didn't see the whole trans* thing coming for years, honestly.

Yesterday we took Gutsy to an impressive and welcoming self-directed learning centre. Compass is exactly what she needs. The staff is great and the teens are some of the coolest and most dynamic people I've ever met. They take charge of their learning and do it in ways that interest them. Some of them are trans*, all of them are accepting.

Gutsy was invited to spend the day, and came home happier than I've ever seen her. Her face was lit up, and she spoke excitedly about all the interesting classes offered and friends she had made. She was invited back again today to get more of a feel for things before we sign her up for a day per week in the fall. Like any type of alternative education that isn't publicly funded, it's going to cost us. But it's so good for her. Geekster and I realized this needed to be an essential part of her learning experience, and that we will need to do some creative budgeting to make it work. But we will make it work.

So, of course, that's when I came home and found an email from the staff at Ten Oaks Project, letting me know that a last-minute spot had become available for Gutsy, who had been on the waiting list. And the cost would be $750.

Ten Oaks is about the coolest camp ever. It's for any kid who identifies as LGBTQ, or is the offspring of LGBTQ parents. It provides a completely safe space to be yourself, to be understood by people who get you, and to form potentially lifelong connections with other kids. I hazard to guess it has saved many lives, as children leave there knowing they are not alone.

I sat there, crunching the numbers in my brain. How were we going to do this? We had just committed to tuition fees for next year. And now camp? I didn't think we could swing it.

And that's where you came in.

You, my friends, who encouraged me to crowdfund the camp fees.

I cringed at the idea at first. We are not living close to the poverty line. We are not in a terrible financial position.  We are a middle class family of five who has taken a bit of hit this year, that's all. This is why I didn't want to apply for a subsidy, which the camp offers to less fortunate families. I know there are families who need it far more than we do. But I also knew that coming up with $750 would be a big challenge right now. Not always, but right now.

So I swallowed my pride - a giant amount, on account of quite possibly having the biggest ego of all time - and set up a fundraising page. I asked for the full amount, not expecting anything near that.   I put up the page at 10:30pm. By midnight, it had raised $200.

And by 9:30 this morning - eleven hours later - Gutsy's full camp fees were completely covered. You had donated $750.

I found out we had met our goal right after dropping Gutsy off for her second day at Compass.   I was sitting in the parking lot, and tears started to flow. I never expected this, you guys. And while a part of me still feels shitty for asking in the first place, I am so grateful not to have to worry about where that money is going to come from. We can send our daughter to a wonderful LGBTQ camp, where she will be embraced and wholly accepted, and not be stressed out about how we're going to pay for it.

You are incredible, internet. Friends, blog readers, complete strangers who apparently do whatever your friends tell you on Facebook - all of you. I am indebted to you, and I promise that we will pay it forward when we can.  In the meantime, Gutsy and I will keep sharing her journey, advocating for education and change, and showing the world how love can move mountains.

Eleven hours. You sent my girl to camp in eleven. freaking. hours. I hope you know how amazing you are. I will never forget this.

And just like I did in the parking lot, and again on the highway, I'm now crying and my mascara is running and I need to go eat a cookie or something.

Thank you.

Thank you.

THANK YOU.

We are going to have a very happy little girl on our hands this afternoon when she finds out she's going to camp in July. You made that happen.

Update: We're sitting at $900!  That is $150 above our goal! You guys are amazeballs. As promised, any funds above Gutsy's fees will be given to Ten Oaks to help other kids get to camp. The awesome people at Ten Oaks would like you to know that if you wish to donate directly, they will be able to do something for you that I can't do: give you a tax receipt for anything $20 or over. I'm all about saving the monies, so please feel free to do that way if you wish. And thanks again!