Thursday, October 26, 2006

man shoes
TA says I have man issues that I ought to explore and resolve. I don't deny it, my size-seven feet aren't the only reason I have man shoes. And, since I have proclaimed the UB as my therapy, I really should try on my man shoes for size.
According to my first birth certificate (I have two), I don't have a father - in that respect, I'm an unknown. Although, of course, I do have a Dad - a very loving, caring, unique Dad - who I adore. Arrrgh. How to begin this exploration? Best foot forward?
Creation myths - we all have them, I guess, except those people who claim to be able to remember their birth. That said, I suppose mine are more mythic than most, given that I only have written and physical testaments to take as gospel. Here's the evidence I have: scars, absence, genital warts/scarring (I remember this - luckily it faded before I reached emancipation), screaming fits when a man in overalls visited...and my own memories of disassociation and disgust.
It occurs to me now that small children were (are?) protected/hidden from men. My earliest memories of men are very limited.
My Dad had polio as a child and as a result has a very unusual voice - hoarse, like the wolf who swallowed chalk to fool the little kids - unthreatening, almost unbroken (yes, I'm choosing my words carefully). TBC...

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