Between man and woman, if ever there was an incarnation, which should I choose to be and who would I become? I’d refused to answer such questions. Because, I thought, inside a man, there could be a woman; and inside a woman, there could be a man. If I wanted, I could be a single mother. If I liked, I could be the combination of man and woman. Because I simply chose to be myself. My birth wasn’t a choice between a boy and a girl. Was it?
Questions were questions unanswered. Choices were choices unmade.