Nervously delighted, in a rubber ring

... and yet I remain surprised and nervously delighted at this wonderful free space, this protected womb in which I can be myself on my own terms yet be on display, therefore providing the circumstance with a semblance of that vital force, human mutual connection.

Here I am, readers, here I am, here. Here I am, Deborah.

And now the trans bit:

And what gender am I? Female, female, female. What a conceit this might seem, yet to me the voice crying out 'female! female! female!' feels so deep that it moves me almost to tears.

Oh how I piddle around in my life. Maybe that's the human condition, or something. Yet there still feels a contrasting, thrilling energy in direct expression: 'Here I am, Deborah Kate, female, writing what I really feel.'

And so what do you feel, Deborah?

I am feeling the pleasant sensation of floating on an ocean of creative freedom, reclining decadently on a lovely rubber ring of self-reflexivity, thank you very much for asking. x x