Self-revelation. When is it a safe or sensible thing to do? In life? Online? Since someone I admire nominated me to share here, I've struggled to come up with answers: Sometimes, you just have to step forward and see...

~ When peeling onions, you can't be sure they'll make you cry; ~

Ten (odd) Things You Didn't Know About Me:

1- My life of adventure started at the tender age of four, when I'd wander away to find myself in wondrous, beauty-filled places, with just enough danger (a smidgeon, really) to help me appreciate the (relative) security and comfort of home.

2- As a girl I had many nicknames but one I loathed with a crimson passion: Worm. I grew up with four, count 'em, four (rascally) brothers. The oldest three wore haloes and starched surplices every Sunday morning for mass, but, as far as I could see, they made up for it the remainder of the week.

3- Although my parents have French ancestors, my mother made a point of speaking to us in English, while my father only ever spoke to us in French. Whenever I had to fill in forms at school, the mother tongue box always left me a bit bewildered.

4- I taught myself to read English by paging through my brothers' comic books.

5- One of the most decisive moments in my life took place in September, after we'd moved from southern Ontario to a small town in Quebec. I was seven years old and starting grade three. My parents had enrolled me in the same English Catholic school my brothers and most of the neighborhood kids would be attending, in an English enclave a few miles away. On the first day I sat and listened, taking in my new surroundings. On the second day the whole class quietly did sums, as the teacher made her rounds, stopping at each desk to talk with individual students. When my turn came, I told her I'd never been taught to read or write in English; which - in my child's mind, at least - was (technically) true. I still don't understand what possessed me, and forever after I worried that I'd lied.

6- On his way to work the next morning, my father dropped me off on the doorstep of a small French school at the edge of our village, where for the next four years kids made fun of my accent and called me 'la petite americaine'.

7- Hearing or saying the words 'skin' and 'slacks' use to make my skin crawl, literally. I just used skin twice and slacks once in one sentence without shuddering. Who said people don't change? Although, to be honest, there are words that still make me cringe: 'hate' is one of them.

8- As a result of events beyond my control, I was launched into the adult world at a very young age, somewhat ill-prepared but with a good head on my shoulders. My adventuresome spirit came in handy, and I never looked back; until recently, that is. As some of you may know, much of my current writing explores the halls of memory and the deep currents ebbing and flowing through my life, carrying me forward but also transforming me in the process.

9- I see I've forgotten to mention my lifelong love for Jesus. As far as I can tell, my faith doesn't fit into any of the usual categories. I don't think of myself as a particularly religious person. That said, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have survived the dark times in my life without His gentle guiding presence. What I've seen of Christianity tends to leave me unsettled if not a bit cold. I suspect the countless atrocities perpetrated in Jesus' name over the centuries cause Him to shake His head in sadness as well.

10- For those of you who have wondered, I really do live in a cottage in the middle of a garden in the middle of a forest on a small island on the West Coast of British Columbia, Canada. The adventure continues. Thanks for reading everyone.

~ but like boys, they usually do. ~

Thank you, @Nyhterides, for nominating me. And I, in turn, wish to nominate @Lisaner, @raggedclown, and @tamoja to share 'Ten Things' about themselves. Also, I'd like to thank the people behind the bar @PoetsPub for making this space available.

Thank you@scriblodeau