I just woke from a nap. (Janet, I can see your eyes rolling and hear you saying "Wake up!")

Necessary sleep.
I'm refreshed.
I told her I wouldn't hide anymore.
I wouldn't make myself invisible.
And then she posted her "...Part Two."
And I read it and said. "But I'm not ready!"
She and I had a talk last night, and she had to pull some of my teeth to get me to say I'm not ready....

See, I can remember as far back as the age of two and having to wear a body cast because my heel cords and abductors had to be lengthened to increase flexibility because I was born with, and still have, spastic (tight and not spasmodic in the way we think of spasms)leg muscles....

New thought... with the best of intentions, because Boston Children's Hospital is a teaching hospital, having my surgeon come in to an exam room with 8 to 10 students at a time--not every check up but regularly enough--and explain my case to them while I sat on a on the table in, literally, nothing but my underwear.

and he'd show my range of motion, and sometimes he'd have a student do the check up and ask me questions, and I pretended it was no big deal to sit in my underwear with ten to 12 people looking at me in nothing but a very clinical way, but underneath it, I felt like a specimen in a jar.

So, I would do things to distract myself...name the parts of my body that goosebumps trailed over because sometimes it's cold sitting in a room with nothing but your underwear on and ten or twelve people looking at your body and not at you.

So, sometimes, like one time when I was about 7, 8, and a group of students came to look at my body, i noticed a beautiful girl of at least Asian decent, long soft, shiny black hair past her shoulders, resting against the standard white lab coat...red lips...dark almond eyes, slim legs, somewhat boxy navy skirt that made me wonder what her hips looked like--

and I had to fight down a rod-on.

Yes, I was that sexually aware and aroused at 7 or 8, even before then, I used to imagine my teachers in only bra and panties...

Where was I?

oh yeah, but I felt like a specimen, but if I faked nonchalance, and laughed even about having 10-12 people look at my body, then I could make it easier for everyone else.

And I've realized only extremely recently, that I have been taking on the discomfort and nervousness of others with regard to how I look and walk...I've taken it on as my own and taking that on and taking on the rejection of girls and later women as my issue and not theirs or society's led to my anxiety and panic attacks and hurry hurry hurry don't slow people down....be the same as they.

Don't acknowledge your difference. And I've internalized it all for decades and that's bad.

But the knowing is progress. And I know that that the issues with the way my legs look and the way I walk, any discomfort and nervousness I see on the faces of others is their issue, not mine.

It doesn't mean I don't still have my moments, but th knowledge I'm gaining is power, people.

And, lastly for now, there was I time I wanted to die, but I'd put myself to bed by saying:

"Hang on and get out of bed tomorrow because tomorrow may be the day that changes your life for the better and for good."

And Used to also say....

"Some day I am going to find a woman who looks through it and sees me. And loves me.

And I'll be able to look back at the little boy...the teenager...the young adult...the man...

and all the years of trying to be invisible...all of the years of hating myself...

and see how strong they were and be able to say,

'Thank you for carrying me this far. I know it hasn't always been easy. I couldn't have done it without you. You can rest now.'

Well, I've found her, she's come to me, and her name is Janetk