I envied men. Not their bodies, everything else. I see their power--physical, social, cultural power--and believed in it. How could I not have believed in it, lacking it so badly myself? I never had a solid ground under my feet, I hung in dreams--and fears--of love. I yearned for men’s scaffold of thought, to hold on to in the ebb and flow of my moods. I longed for their structure of words, to spell my waves into a standstill. I wanted their bold stroke of opinion, to force the chaos of life into perspective.