The transformation has begun.  I take this first step with hesitancy and yet with faith for I know not where it will lead.  I can direct my own path but what of the path of others?  My altered course will affect them.  What choices will they make?  As I press forward, will they press forward with me, step aside or turn back altogether?  There is no way to know.

       How, is it then, that I can even place one foot in front of the other without a sure knowledge of my destination?  I speak of faith and yet my motivation is more than that.  While this journey is uncomfortable, the alternative is unthinkable.  This cocoon has cradled me too long.  I know that I have outgrown this chrysalis.  My wings have developed and I long to fly free of these limitations.  But even in this longing, I progress slowly.  My wings have not been tried; they have not been tested against the winds of change and adversity.  Yet, I know that the time for emergence has come.

       I peer out of my protective home.  Nothing has changed – nothing, that is, except me.  I am not the same creature as when I crawled into this womb.  This haven has protected me, nurtured and nourished me.  And molded me into what I am today.  I have sought refuge here in moments of fear and pain.  I have found solace and peace along the way.  But I have also felt the anguish of loneliness. 

Though I have ventured forth from time to time (only to retreat again), I have rarely invited others in.  It has been a solitary gestation but why have I struggled alone for so long?  The helping hands have always been there.  They have reached out to me in kindness and love.  But, I have come out to meet them so that no one would see the hovel that was my home.  It was too small, too cluttered, too unorganized to share.  What would my loved ones think of me when the reality of my condition was revealed to them?  Would I be shunned or embraced, ridiculed or encouraged?  The risk was too great.

But now, the pulse of desire beats in my fragile wings.  The cocoon is shed.  I stand in the shadow of its crumbling shelter.  I cannot turn back – nor do I want to.  I have developed too far.  And to my relief, the hands are still there.  Though untested, my wings begin to beat, slowly at first, to meet the outstretched grasp.  Hold me gently, I plead.  This emergence may be essential, but it is, oh, so very new to me.