Tears

Here I am again, saying 'hello'. Saying 'Thank you for reading. I'm flattered by your interest. If you really like reading me expressing myself, the least I can do in return is to give you a bit more of it.' x x

Here I am again, in front of my dauntingly blank canvas, with a freedom of expression that is somewhat intimidating, almost overwhelming.

I refuse to confine myself to a role that narrows this existential freedom - e.g. commentator on trans issues.

Writing is an assertion of active being. Of being alive, and - as Deborah - of being a crossdreamer, and of being an inner female.

The depths of my psyche are all pink and fluffy!

I could do some masculine assertion - 'this is my opinion! this is what I think!' - but I don't want to. I don't have to have an opinion to speak to you, do I, friends?

In fact right now I feel a little bit like shedding a few tears.

No particular reason. I'm just a sensitive person in a harsh world, that's all ('all'!). So naturally I feel like shedding a few tears every so often.  Maybe you do too?

Love and kisses from Deborah x x x