What’s the punishment for being “wrong”? In my upbringing, that would be that no one loves you. No matter how enlightened or advanced one grows, this still requires constant dismantling, as the scattered bones come back together every night.
Imagine, too, a world where creativity outside of math or engineering is despised, where taking risks associated with your passion is the hallmark of a fool. It’s all of a piece, as deadly as any bullet, if one learns to do this to oneself. One does, of course, because that’s “good.” And yet there is no right or wrong if one is following one’s heart, because the heart will never lie.
I do feel something huge, just below the surface, that’s been waiting for a long time. Being me is not a crime. (There’s just one job left and I am on it.) Love is everything and don’t forget! Everybody will, including me, but maybe not forever like the last time.