I may have been a woman in a good deal of my past lives.

  

Gender stories are evolving. The old patterns aren’t politically correct any more, but they are still sticky. The new patterns are still  blurred.

 

I would love to be a woman. I would love to inhabit a feminine body. I would have long hair to play with. My hair would be my flag, my way to express how intimately connected to the secret forces of nature I am.

I could cry on a friend’s shoulder when having reasons for it without being seen as less of a woman for doing so. I could hug my friends without embarrassment.

I could touch other beings in a subtle light way and it would be powerful, not gay…

  

I would love to make love with a woman I love and after the love making, I would still be me and she would still be her, but I would have her body and she would have mine. I don’t know if she would appreciate the swap. To get our own respective bodies back, we would have to make love again, but it would take time before I consent.