I am reading Nancy Cole's, "Dance of the Baccha". It in many ways is a pleasant story, though at times quite frightening and tense, the subject matter dredging memories up less pleasant times for me.

I am in the first chapters where "M's" brother is being exposed to things that he had longed for, but had buried so deeply that he had not practiced.

In my present reading, he is finally realizing that his nature is extremely feminine and it is no secret to those around him. He's been to Iraq and lived through that hell, so as is common amongst those of our ilk, he has lived and managed to survive his super masculine acting out phase.

His realizations have brought up old feelings to me; how my first adventure into the public lime light perhaps felt more natural than like acting or like being an impostor. It would take years to fully learn.

I was at a writer's conference on Monday, sat with 6 other writers, that I had known for some time, at a table dealing with our various efforts. Each of us had brought something to read, and I chose to read the last two pages of "Katia in Afghanistan". Even now, when I read it, I nearly come to tears, probably betraying my innermost desires.

As we were discussing that reading, one of the other authors said that she had never seen a woman use a character that was so submissive with such success. She then said, "Of course you are so feminine and that is why." No matter how good life is to us, some of us seem to continue to be our own worst enemies, expressing our insecurity, and discounting our own feelings with out fail. That she was saying I was SO feminine was quite the shock for me.

Lately, I have been quite churlish toward some on this site. I wish to apologize from the deepest of my innermost parts, and I will try to be kind once again in the way that so many of you have been to me in the past.