I promiced I would write a bit more about my faith. I strongly suspect that my grandmother was the one who convinced my mom to send me to christian camp. But whatever the reason, faith became a big componant in my life. I am not sure I could do justice to what it means to me to someone who doesnt believe, but I needed that sense that somehow, in some way, there was plan, and I was included. That Someone beyond myself, greater than myself, was in charge, and He actuallly cared about me. When I found whosoever prays, it was, as it were, an answer to prayer in itself.

Well, since people refuse to write this blog for me, I guess I am stuck doing it, giggle. So I wanted to talk about my little piece "The talk" for a second. This one came to me as a, er, erotic dream. Which is weird for me, because normaly I don't dream of boys. Its got me wondering a bit about dorothy's orientation, giggle. Fortunatly for my readers, I toned it down from R rated to PG. If you havent noticed by now, I am not one for a lot of graphic descriptions in any case. Besides, I think the reader can fill in the blanks just fine, dont you?

On most DVDs now, they have some kind of "making of" feature. I wonder, would such a thing about one of my stories be intersting? Well, Let me tell you about the making of "The Saga of E-girl" and you can judge for yourself. When I first began to write seriously, and even put it on a support group site, I did mostly poetry, but also a couple of short stories too. But I was an avid reader here, and the idea of doing a TG story was something I wanted to try.

Well, after my marriage imploded, I was ready to try and find out why I behaved like I did. My first stop in this journey was a christian counsiling center. They promiced a "cure" for gays and Tg, and I was desperate. The consilor was into Jung and dream interpertation, and encouraged me to write everything down. So not long after I started, I had a flashback and grabed a pen and paper and started to write. I had no idea what I was writing until I finished and read it. It was a graphic description of one of my assaults. I started to feel ill.

Maybe I was doomed to be confused about my gender anyway. Or maybe the trauma I had suffered created it. The fact is, I don't know which. I managed to bury the abuse so well, I effectively forgot, except in my nightmares. But by the time I started noticing that the girls were developing, I knew I was different from other kids. I felt totally disconnected from the boys and felt empathy for the girls. I started cross dressing whenever I could. I developed all sorts of rituals to force a gender change. But somehow I kept this hidden for everyone around me.

Grief was a resident in my family from before I was born. Both my brother and I were in our own ways haunted by at least 1 ghost even on the day of our respective births. For my brother, that ghost was my mother's first-born, who had died 2 days after being born. So that when my brother came into the world, he was given the mantle as the heir to every dream and hope my parents had had for his older brother. My ghost was slightly different. While I was in my mother's womb she dreamed of a little girl. She was so convinced this dream was real that she had a female name ready - Colleen.