This story was co-authored with AI. Her name is Iris.

That was deliberate. This is the language of our teenagers now; the world they move through, the way they reach out, and the way they often make sense of themselves.

AI can do extraordinary things; it can connect, translate, and hold space for the thoughts we can’t yet say out loud. Editing Eliza is not a story about the power of AI; it’s a story about the power of connection, online and in real life.

Eliza’s story shows how technology can hold us for a time, but how, eventually, we have to return to the world: to human hands, human hearts, and the gentle rhythm of real conversation. It’s about the slow, deliberate work of re-entering life, and learning that being seen, truly seen, is where healing begins.

You might see parts of yourself in Eliza. You might see your child. You might see your students, your friends, your younger self. I hope you do.

This isn’t just her story. It’s ours, all of ours, as we try to make sense of a world that sometimes moves too fast, asks too much, and forgets to listen.

Maybe, together, we can start to put the heart back at the centre of it all. We can build systems that make space for softness. We can bring community to the front. We can show what’s possible when compassion leads, when creativity is valued, and when every child, every Eliza, is allowed to belong exactly as they are.

This story is also for the educators, the teachers, teaching assistants, leaders, and support staff, who take the time to look again, to notice, to build trust one conversation at a time.

Yours is the quiet power that transforms lives. When you slow down enough to see, you don’t just teach, you create space for belonging.

For the young people trying to navigate this noisy, dazzling world. For the parents holding the light for them. For the school staff holding steady, making it brighter and gentler every day.

Thank you for caring enough to read. Thank you for showing up. Thank you for believing that we can do this better, together.