Some time after that, as I can remember, a Dear Abby column got my attention. In a letter to her, some man had expressed his never ending desire to become a woman to which she replied with an address where he could get more information about sex reassignment. By that time, I didn't want to be a girl anymore, but I could relate myself so much to what the man said in his letter. I was enjoying life in my own body, but there were things I just didn't want to become, roles I never aspired to play. Instead there other things I wanted to become, roles I wanted to play in real life.
No matter how highly I esteemed any of the men in my life, I didn't want to become like any of them (although the man of my dreams was like them). But, there were women (who were married to the men of their dreams) who I wanted to be like in some way or another. I wanted to be like that pastor's wife I admired so much in Atlanta. I wanted to play a Hammond organ as much like her as I could and have a minister for a husband (the man of my dreams) by whose side I could always be. I loved going to church in those days. I wanted to be a good cook and a good housekeeper like my mother and my grandmothers (faithfully living with the man of my dreams). I learned how to play church music on a Hammond organ and on the piano. I learned how to sew, cook, and keep house. I still think, as my grandmothers used to say of me, I could make a pretty good wife for someone someday.