Sometimes it’s really hard to live in the skin you were born in.  For some folks, this is a gender issue.  For me, for a long time, it was an age issue.

I didn’t know it, but for years, I was an old person trapped in a young person’s body.   Now that I am old, I understand it.  I no longer have to pretend that I want to go down-hill skiing or white-water kayaking or go to loud parties or stay out late on Saturday nights.

This week we’ve been hearing about a woman who does not “identify” with her race. Now, that must be really hard.  One report mentioned that she was born out in the country someplace, not in a hospital, and thinks maybe she was switched at birth. Or her parents were. Or something.

Remember when you were about five or six years old? You were sure these two ordinary people could not possibly be your real parents. Your real parents would never have sent you to your room for being naughty. You had been switched at the hospital and were really a princess. You identified with royalty, not with ordinary.

A six-year-old is pretending. An adult woman is a phony baloney.