It comes to reason that I cannot explain these changes to a man who does not know what he means to a woman who does not know what it means to be a woman -- She has been ripe in the flesh, thrice, and yet, when they are grown, is still a girl, seeking her place in the world. "Who am I?" she asks every morning and she does not know. Her children tell her who she is to them and she listens. Sometimes doesn't put it aside. Other times she asks "is that all?" And yet more, "why do they see what is not there?" Now I, I look for who I am. I seek the same ways, habits learned from family. Cycles repeat. I discover this time. I say I know. I say I am finding out. I will not wait.