(I have a second grader right now - look out world!)
Just that memory, of my nascent opposite sex attraction, keeps my wheels turning. Obviously it was just who I was, who I am. Not something I wanted or chose. How can we deny other people's experiences? Especially when they're so similar to ours in the core ways? Love is love is love is love.
|This is me, about Jane's age. (Undated photo)|
And the same stupid cropped-in-the-front bangs.
She is her mother's daughter.