( Pexels/Pixabay) The board is set. The pieces are moving. Five years ago, I made the irrational decision to bury her. I became overwhelmed and shoved her into a box. My sweet, dear Ashlee. She was tucked away tightly and neatly to never see the world again. Tomorrow, in less than 12 hours, she meets the world. I meet the world. Not random strangers in Birmingham. Not a select few I know in Piedmont. Not Nashville, New Orleans, or Atlanta. People I know and see everyday. People who are as much family to me as the family I live with. To say I'm scared is an understatement. I've cried a lot this week. I'm crying now as I write this. Not because I worry it's the wrong decision. No, I know it's not. Rather, because I know the gravity of the situation. I also know the questions I ask of myself and the world around me. "Will they love me?" "Will they treat me differently?" "Will they respect me?" "Am I some joke to them? Or worse, and ab...