It was hard to write, and some days I simply couldn't do it. I would sit down to write, but the fear would be so great I couldn't face it. I would shut down the lid of my laptop and walk away - go out into the woods and talk to the trees instead - my loyal, sturdy friends who always listen to my thoughts with such calm and loving kindness.
This story is a right of passage. A leaving behind of one person and the painful birthing of another. It has taken 30 years of labour pains to begin to find myself. 30 years of denial of who I am, 30 years of guilt and fear and regret. But now I see the sun at the start of a new dawning... and know the time has come.