In the past few days, I have had a number of women ask me why I have shaved my head. They have told me that they liked it or that they didn’t like it; I actually don’t care whether they like my shaved head or not.
 
After a lifetime of very long hair, ‘my glory,” and long, shapeless dresses and skirts (because wearing jeans was ‘cross-dressing’) it is a relief to be who I am: gay, codependent, old, woman, self-partnered.
 
It is a relief to not be called a “witch”, “unsubmissive”, “out-of-order”, “rebellious”, “demonized”, or “untrustworthy.”
 
The journey for me—coming out of a cult where exorcism, especially for women, was common, hatred of homosexuality endemic, and my life always full of sin—has been hard. I lost a village, family, friends, emotional and spiritual support.
 
This Christmas, I have me.
 
I am alive, free to be who I am, and it is all right. No one is going to name a demon over me ever again. I can think whatever I want to think, I can be who I am in my sexuality, I can be intelligent instead of silent, I can use my words to speak or write after twenty five years of never writing anything. I can wear jeans, I can shave my head, I can be different.
 
I could not have made this journey of a thousand tears of grief, of being afraid, of joy and freedom, cut into my feet, I could not have made this physical and spiritual ‘camino’ without constant therapy, without listening to the sacred, secret walk of others in the rooms at CoDA.
 
MS – 12/12/19