There are many paths one can choose in life, and those greater choices come at times with tremendous personal sacrifice. The hardest are those where there is no clear delineation of which is right and which is wrong, only trade-offs that must be carefully measured where ultimately the heart must answer. And in those answers is your true self revealed.

Finding peace in the balance between one's own needs and the needs of those for whom your heart treasures most of all is a continual challenge. And a thorough examination of all consequences and potential end results as weighed against whether such would fulfill your -true- needs can be the biggest challenge of all as it requires astounding levels of self-honesty. Each of us are unique, and the resolutions therefore are as well. To thine own self be true states it well, but requires a deep understanding of the values of the self and who you are at your most inner core - beyond perhaps even thoughts of being male or female.

At least here and in your fabulous writings, dearest Emma, your inner soul is granted voice that she may be heard, seen, and deeply appreciated. And we therefore are blessed that we may join with her our shouts of joy and fervent desires, and offer our comfort and love as our tears fall alongside yours.

- Erisian <3

I hardly know what to say, except that we do what we can. I think we're in the same boat, if that's any consolation.

I'm always amazed at your power of expression and like now am often struck too deeply to be able to say anything as articulate in return.

hugs,

- iolanthe

I have read this poem a dozen times since you posted it. I find myself returning to read it, over and over again. Each time I find myself moved to tears. I'm often transfixed by the image you posted. I'm of a different generation. And sometimes I feel I don't belong here. I'm different, I was born when the world is about to turn. But this poem echo's something I scribbled one day in one of my high school composition books. I have long since tossed that composition book into the trash, or it's been burned or lost to to time. It was my idea book, and in that book such private thoughts I could not trusth with anybody or anyone was written. Emma, you poem echo's this line that has come bounced back and returned to me, some nineteen years after it was written. "I feel, inhuman, and out of touch/I wear green, and march in formation/ JROTC Ribbons adorned my chest/ Honors and medals of valor/ I wish I could exchange them for the homecoming crown" The thought that comes back to me, is this, we all struggle. I have through this site been given a measure of peace.. but your poem echoes a place I think we all find ourselve. I wish I could hug you through the computer screen. Thank you again, for sharing this poem with us, for being you and for keeping our sagging spirits from deflating. With much love and respect, Sunflower.