I'm at home, looking at two invitations that request a response by September 12. One's for the Ballet's Volunteer Orientation and Social on the 18th, and the other is for the Retired & Senior Volunteer Program's (RSVP) annual recognition luncheon on the 25th.

I know people in both of these groups, and they've always said they would love to have me attend their functions if I'd be comfortable doing so.

Comfort is the key word. Having seen all the names in the Ballet's volunteer database, I know I won't have any awkward encounters at their event. The RSVP luncheon is a different matter. That will include volunteers from all over the area. I could come face to face with a person whose knowledge of Kay could have unwanted repercussions.

So "yes" on the first one..."maybe" on the second. I'll have to give it some thought.

Meanwhile, Ann and Lana are urging me to attend a fun event this Sunday night to celebrate the beginning of the arts season. I love that they want to include me in these kinds of things, but they have to understand that I need to consider the risks before I commit. Ann and I had a little talk about that today. She appreciates my position but thinks it's a shame that I can't just be who I am and let people deal with it. I could, of course, but I choose not to.

Both of my coworkers/friends are leaning heavily on me for advice and opinions regarding all sorts of things as we head into the busy part of the year. I feel very much like I'm part of the team. There are some new volunteers and interns coming in to help, but I enjoy a special status now.

A final word on last night's ballet adventure: When I came home, my wife said she had been worried about me. She's told me many times that she would have no problem going out with someone else who was crossdressed but can't stand the thought of me being ridiculed or possibly harmed. No matter how careful I am, I believe, she will always have those fears.

Well...wow.

Hundreds of people in a megachurch sanctuary to enjoy a staging of the ballet "Romeo and Juliet" with full orchestral accompaniment. And right smack in the middle...me.

My wife decided she was too tired to go. I hoped Lana wouldn't cancel at the last minute and leave me with no one to talk to.

Parking was across the street from the venue, so I had to walk about a city block with many others arriving at the same time. No one paid the slightest attention to me, and what little nervousness I felt began to dissipate quickly. A scan of my ticket, a consultation with an usher, and I was on my way to my seat. Moving with the crowd, I had no time to think much about it.

I heard Lana call my name and saw her waving. She had brought her boyfriend, her mother and one of her mother's friends, and she introduced me to them. My seat was at the other end of the next row, and she and her boyfriend came and chatted with me for quite a while before the performance got underway.

Intermission was awkward. When the lights came up, I was sitting there while people milled around. But then Lana and Jim stopped by again and I didn't feel so vulnerable.

It was during the second act that I found myself relaxing and starting to get out of myself and into the performance. I'm no fan of ballet, but I must say I would be inclined now to go again. It was beautiful.

As we were leaving, I joined Lana's group and we had a lively discussion in the lobby. Her mom was extremely nice to me and said that her daughter really enjoys having me in the office. Jim hasn't seen where Lana works yet, and he said he wants to make sure he comes by on a day when I'm there. We all chatted and joked as we made our way across the street to our cars.

At no time during the three hours did I see anyone point, stare or give the slightest indication that I was viewed as anything other than a woman (which, in case you came in late, I am not...).

This experience has given me the courage I need to attend the Ballet's Volunteer Orientation and Social on the 18th.

Specifically, it's reinforced my confidence that I can be accepted on the strength of my personality regardless of my gender presentation. I was beginning to see it on a much smaller scale in the office, but this was my first exposure to the general public.

And, this is another example of how "passing" is largely a matter of self-confidence. I'm comfortable in my role and don't give a lot of thought to the minute details of my appearance once I've left the house. It's just a matter of checking the hair and the clothes occasionally to see that everything's still in order - as anyone else would do.

I'm deeply grateful to my young friend Lana for giving me the gentle push I needed to take this big step.

In the midst of the turmoil that defines the first few days of my week, my wife brought home some clothes that a co-worker's wife is discarding. Most are a size too small for me, but I did find a couple of attractive tops to add to my wardrobe.

Tomorrow, I meet with my partners in the morning. Then, the storm of work will pass, and I'll wrap things up in the afternoon and get ready for our ballet outing.

I had my hair cut today. Everyone was friendly as usual - going out of their way to talk to me and, in the case of one very nice young lady who was recently hired, coming over to introduce herself. My friend at the reception desk had a glass of wine being poured when I walked in. It's such a wonderful group of people. The owner creates a fun yet professional atmosphere.

I did a little writing for Ann by email today, and I've promised Susan that I'll create the copy for the new RSVP web site.

These are the little pleasures that keep me sane as I long to be free of my business obligations.

I spent so much time in pursuit of reasons and explanations.

It never made sense, this way I felt. I'm a rational person. Things must adhere to known patterns.

Why, as a child, was I driven to crossdress? I was male. I was like other males in other ways. They didn't do this, did they? Why did I have these thoughts?

Why, as a teen, did I feel a bond with girls but no lust for them? I had the same physical urges as did the other guys, but I could not see girls as objects or as prizes to be won. Why?

Why, as an adult, could I not surpress the need for things female? I was grown, in charge of my own mind, but helpless in the face of this. One "took action", "overcame", "put it to rest": That's how problems were solved. But that approach - for this - didn't work. Why?

Why did I buy women's clothes again and again...only to dispose of them later, thinking I could stop for good? Why did I want to go out in feminine garb? Why did I risk exposure, ridicule and shame? Why couldn't I beat this?

Later, it was "Why does this happen? Why am I like this? Why is there no cure?" And "Why is willpower not enough?"

Then, it finally sank in. Time after time, I heard it from others. Stop asking "why". No one knows why for sure. The mother's stress in utero causing a hormone wash? Maybe. That makes sense, in my case. She left seven months after I was born, so the marriage wasn't idyllic.

The point is that it's pointless to waste your time trying to figure it out. It simply is. You can't make it not exist.

You can accept and adapt. That's the limit of your power.

I don't put much stock in dreams. Many will disagree, perhaps saying that they predict the future and, if interpreted correctly, can serve as a guide to how events in one's life will unfold.

I subscribe to a less romantic definition. I think they're simply the mind's patchwork assembly of mental detritus. The end result can be funny, scary or simply confusing.

Last night, I dreamed I was on a side street shortly after dusk. A small group of men were gathered, and they greeted me warmly. They had accents which I identified as English. One put his arm on my shoulder, and I felt him touch my bra strap. I felt somewhat violated and pulled away, but my reaction was not severe and I was not uncomfortable in their presence. They knew when I arrived that I was not genetically female but reassured me that people in the area were quite liberal in their thinking. And that's all I remember of the episode.

At another point, I was giving what seemed to be a lot of thought to making a one hundred dollar donation to the organization for which I volunteer...using, specifically, my Kay Henderson American Express card.

It's rare for me to recall gender-related dreams. They occur from time to time but with much less frequency since I resolved my inner turmoil.

If you are inclined to find meaning in such things, I invite you to have at it.

I'm always open to learning new things about myself.