I am coming to realize that my behaviors as a young child resembled that of cats in ways too numerous to call coincidence.

It is not simply that I was aloof, or even that I hated the idea of needing to work with other people for anything. It is that I would routinely hide in closets, hide under tables, crawl under beds, make little caverns out of the fold-out foam seat portions of the cheap couches and hide in those, hide under blankets -- wherever I could fit, I would sit, because the enclosed space comforted me. (Said to be a classic autistic thing, to seek to cut off excessive stimulation -- I didn't know that's what I was doing, but it did make me feel better.)

And even after growing out of that phase (literally, I couldn't fit anymore), I would still seek dark places to stalk through -- I still do. I feel much better being unseen, un-noticed, un-judged -- I hate it when people can immediately guess what I'm looking for. Leave me be, I know exactly what I'm doing! Hiss!

What I am now remembering, just today, is that as a small child, I was fascinated with the act of climbing up onto high flat perches,  surveying the world from there for a while, and jumping back down. I got too big to do it in as many ways as I could, but there are still some ways I do it to this day. I've always been keen on the idea of hiding away unseen up on a high flat perch.

Do not ask me if I was a boy or a girl. Ask me if I was a human or a cat. Ask me if I am a human or a cat.

I don't know the answer.