If I were to put on Wind Song perfume, I would remember that once upon a time I was 16 and insecure and made shy by circumstances that changed my life dramatically on my 15^th birthday.   The circumstances, really, are not important.  One just needs to know that I was uprooted, again, and moved to a locale where I knew no one and no one knew me.  That was not a new experience, but these new kids were not military brats.  They did not welcome me with open arms.  They were not unkind.  I was simply someone they didn’t know in a tight-knit community at an age where one doesn’t really socialize outside their tribe.

I had no tribe. I was invisible.

I did have the third floor of a brick house as bedroom to myself.  As do teenagers, I spent hours holed up in my attic.  The princess in exile in the tower.

I can slip into the steaming hot water of the claw footed bathtub and wash my hair with Herbal Essence shampoo.  Luxuriating in the warmth and comfort of the water while tears silently slip down my face.  Another lonely day is about to begin at school.  More than a year’s worth now.