Coming Out

My passport photo.

Years ago I came out to my family as a feline. They accepted it graciously and started giving me lots of treats. My husband continued to let me sleep in the bed with him, and I was allowed to go in and out of the house whenever I wanted. We started having more fish for dinner. My son gave me a bird feeder as a gift so I could watch all the birdies outside the window. Things were fine, except for a nagging feeling that I was not really expressing my true self!  I was actually putting on an act so I could fit in with society. I realized that deep down, I am not a cat but a flower. This explains why most of my paintings are of flowers; many are self-portraits and others are portraits of my floral ancestors.

I haven't told my family yet as I think this news will be harder for them to accept. Fortunately I am a perennial so my death will not come at the end of this season. I will simply lie dormant all winter, which they are used to seeing me do already.

As flowers do not speak, my lack of conversation will be an adjustment for everyone who knows me, but perhaps they will just think I have lost my mind or are depressed, two things that are quite reasonable to assume about me. Honestly, I don't care what people think since I am a flower. All I need is water and sunshine, although not bright sun -- I prefer indirect -- and only for about six hours a day.

My new name is Dahlia and my new pronoun is "it." Just let me live in a nice spot with plenty of water nearby and leave me alone.