But I do have one helpful option.

I can pick WHICH me.

So I step naked into moonlight.

And as the full moon strikes, I shift into my other self....

Were-Girl!

Suddenly I'm female, twentyish, medium height, pale blonde hair straight to my waist (no more frizz! I hate Were-Boy's brittle hair, he can't grow it very long).

I'm also fatter than skinny bony old Were-Boy--more of an athletic type. I love running!

I love being me.

I sneak out my side door, into the dark. Naked, but only a lone black cat can see.

On the side of our apartment building, there's a narrow path to the back where the wooden gate is that I need to fix.

At first I worry my neighbors will catch me--but feeling the warm summer night on my skin, I start to enjoy the adventure--even the danger that I'll get caught...

It's FUN being Were-Girl on the prowl!

Instead of worrying that others will see me naked, I'll watch THEM!

When you feel haunted... haunt!

I know, I know... you'd do the job you came for first, THEN dance--as a reward.

But I'm no lab rat! I'm Were-Girl! I play NOW!

Because fun makes you strong--not pain.

Yuck. What a taste! This stuff bites back! But it has to be done--I GOTTA fix this gate. Life and death! If I can't lock that gate when I want, how can I choose who to let into my life? How can I even know who I love, if I let them ALL in--because of a dried-up knot from years ago?

See...where I grew up, I was a hated minority kid. I was hit and spat on till I shut my gate. It's still shut. I just say no... to drugs, violence, gettin' loud, sex, love, jobs, competition, friends, attention, trust, joy. Gagged by hiding. I survived, since I didn't (like so many) let idealism tie me OPEN to every creep out there... but survival's pale as moonlight next to full-blooded life. I want life. Life in the sun.

Gnaw gnaw gnaw... this could take a while. Oh, I know!

Emily Dickinson wrote a poem I love, on the soul-power of a gate that opens AND shuts. Here--read it while I gnaw through this damn knot--gnaw and gnaw and gnaw and gnaw...

The Soul selects her own Society - Then - shuts the Door - To her divine Majority - Present no more - Unmoved - she notes the Chariots - pausing - At her low Gate - Unmoved - an Emperor be kneeling - Upon her Mat - I've known her - from an ample nation Choose One - Then - close the Valves of her attention Like Stone -

(We now return you to our regular dream programming--you're watching DBC, Channel 1!)

...so I gnaw and gnaw and gnaw and gnaw and gnaw and gnaw and SNAP!

So sudden I fell over backward, but hell, it's worth a scrape or two! I DID it! Now I can choose who to let in!

Gallop round the yard like a feral mare, joyful, leaping in glee... I feel strangely free, and strong. Why the hell'd I put this off so long?

Install a simple, functional bolt... and it's done. Yes and no, come and go... they're mine again.

I stride back into my living room, naked and scratched, with straw in my hair and leather-gnawing drool on my chin... and grinning.

I stand on my head in the moonlight, chanting "Come back, Were-Boy." And change. Suddenly I'm male, tall and craggy and skinny, powerful, reserved and shy...

I LOVE being Were-Girl, so why turn back, you ask?

See--well--my girlfriend's coming over, and she LIKES boys. She's weird that way. Helps me to learn to like this body.

Why not? I learned to like broccoli. And broccoli's a lot like masculinity. How, you ask? C'mon!

Like masculinity, it's best when not... overdone.

NOTES IN THE MORNING

• The gate, security = at the party today, the hostess said "I had a phone jack out on my back porch, but I had to disable it after I woke up one night and heard a prowler in my yard--whispering into a phone he'd plugged in! He was making long-distance calls on my line!" Another Silicon Valley first--a chat burglar! The things some people will do to save a buck...
• A frozen heart-knot that I must undo and make openable = I've got some habitual defenses that keep me from choosing freely who I want to let into my heart. I keep you ALL out... weakly. Bores and pushies and needies can barge on in, while those I want are frozen out.
• Were-Girl = at the party, a blonde looking like Were-Girl talked over the fence with the Tattoo Man. I was attracted, but she was beyond the boundary, forbidden... Never talked to her.
• Being naked, yet I get the job done = is baring myself to strangers a problem, was I too open at the party? I did feel kinda naked there--stood out as a freaky artist. But I LIKE being Were-Girl at parties--baring my real feelings in a way most guys don't. And so? If I lack social skills I just gnaw away at my problems...