Have you heard of Cheryl Strayed, who has a column called "Dear Sugar?" If not, I suggest you find out about her. Check out her book "Tiny Beautiful Things." In hindsight I wish I'd included it in my Suggested Reading post. Below is a letter to her and her response. (I didn't really send it, but it's in tune with others in her book.) I'll also add that I wrote this about a year ago. I'm posting it now to reinforce my positive feelings in myself and, I hope it might help others.

Dear Sugar,

My wife (I'll call her Mary) and I have been meeting with a therapist for over a year. It started out with only me seeing him, because although Mary and I have a great relationship and love each other very much, I'd lost interest in sex, was depressed, and Mary encouraged me to try - yet again - to get to the bottom of it.

The main issue it seems is that I've been fascinated and ashamed of my fascination with girls and girly things since I was very small, which led to sexual fantasies and fixations that I've not been able to shake off. I told Mary about it a couple of times in the past and it pretty much shocked and disheartened her, so I rapidly withdrew into my shell.

Now, though, we're talking about it more openly in our therapy meetings. I'm still quite sensitive about it (notice I'm calling it "it"), and pulling details out of me is tough. Despite Mary's recent assurances of her love and acceptance I get worried.

I suppose I don't really trust her acceptance. I wouldn't blame her at all if, even hidden deep down, she wonders about how strange this all is. Might lead to all kinds of awkward and embarrassing moments for her. And, even if her acceptance is sincere, my shame makes it hard for me to accept her acceptance.

You see, Sugar, I know I would appear pretty silly in female clothing without a lot of help and preparation. And even if I looked acceptable, where is all this going to lead? What do I really want?

At the extreme let's say that I dress up and through practice and experience, learn to blend into society as a woman. I can go out and about, shop, doing whatever I want in public. Is that the goal? I don't think so since at the end I'm still me, unhappy in my own skin - or at least not loved by me.

Do I want to be female? No, but there are times I wish I'd been born one. Perhaps then I could be me, happy? But I know that the grass isn't so much greener over there. Most would say my grass is already lush, green and well trimmed now.

I really hate and am impatient with myself at times like this, and try to push feelings away. I don't know what to do to get better, and on top of my shame of myself in general I'm also ashamed that I even need to go see a therapist. I'm so sensitive, scared, and tired of living like this. I know you're going to say that I need to love the one I'm with (me). Maybe so but I've not figured out how.

Screwed Up in the Bay Area

Dear Screwed Up,

Let's say you're playing poker and you were dealt two pairs, and a pretty good hand at that: kings and tens. Your other card is a queen. And not just any queen, it's the queen of hearts, the girliest card in the deck. What do you do? Throw in the queen hoping for a full house? Probably, since I'll bet you know how to play poker. But what if you then pulled the queen of diamonds? How might your hand have played out differently if you'd held that queen of hearts and played your hand another way? Answer: nothing, zilch, nada. Like it or not, you'd still be you.

Look, honeypie, I can tell you've been around the block on this quite a few times. But mostly it's all been running around in your head, keeping you small and in hiding. Keep talking and opening up to Mary and your therapist.

And I can also tell that you put your marriage with yourself on hold many moons ago, too. As if you're sleeping in separate bedrooms, sniping at each other, or not talking at all. Self-divorce isn't an option. You need to patch up your relationship with yourself. Get to know each other. Take yourself out on date nights. Become as fascinated with yourself as you are with things girly.

Sugar loves you, and I'm sure Mary and your therapist and many others do too. You do need to learn to love the one you're with. It starts there.

Sugar

Photo: Another pair of pretty birds in that park in South Africa.