I am uncertain at what point during the Bruce Jenner-Diane Sawyer tete-a-tete that I first reached across my coffee table to fetch a piece of tissue paper. I just know it was not a one-off.
Fortunately, Kleenex is not in short supply in my modest home.
Yes, I wept freely and often as the former world’s greatest athlete shared his story with Sawyer, because he was telling my story. No, I am not a former Olympic champion and my picture never has graced the front of a Wheaties box. I have zero connection to the Kardashians. The paparazzi do not hound me. Late night gab guys on TV do not crack wise about me.
Trust me, though. Bruce Jenner’s story is my story. It’s just that I’m ahead of him on the curve.
He was born with male junk 65 years ago. Ditto.
He slipped into his sister’s dress for the…
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