When I was nine, I looked in the mirror, and I said, right out loud, "There's something different." I knew. I didn't have a name for it, but I knew. Then I got over myself .

Recently, I kind of wished I'd had children, which is interesting, because I didn't think that I would go through that. . . . I thought about adoption, but that too passed, so I'm recovered. I'm a recovered mother.

I think my worst fear is that some day I'm going to be old and be put into a nursing home full of homophobic straight women and not be able to share my stories or be who I am. That's a big fear. 

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