Everything has its own time, its own place, its part to play in the scheme of things, and we have to make room for all of it, welcome all of it, without being ashamed of any of it. There is no black sheep in this family. No wayward son or daughter. No outlaw. No aspect of us that does not have something to offer at some point for the good of the whole.

When we try to be perfect in order to meet the specifications of some social class, we betray the essential okayness of our own nature in favor of pretense and artificiality.