I Am A Woman

You grow up wondering what’s wrong with you. You want to play with the other little girls because you identify with them, but you are expected to play with the little boys. You finally reach your early teenage years, only to face the horrors of what’s happening to your body: facial hair, hairy arms and legs, genitals that have only gotten bigger and more prominent. You can’t believe how deep your voice has gotten.

Everyone says you’re a boy because you look like one. They don’t know or care how you really feel inside. You come to realize you are a girl born in a boy’s body. Life is basically a miserable experience until the day comes that you finally decide.

You don’t have to look like a boy. Looking into it, you learn all about the treatments and procedures. Hormone therapy comes first, usually accompanied by psychological therapy. There is voice training because your voice doesn’t change with estrogen therapy. There is facing your friends and family and hoping for acceptance. And finally, when you finally look like a woman, when no one could guess you aren’t, you have to decide on the last step … genital reassignment.

You start the hormone therapy, a slow process, pills or injections or both. Eventually your breasts begin to appear, your nipples start getting larger, more like a woman’s. The hair thins on your arms and legs. That which doesn’t disappear, you deal with using laser treatments. Your skin gets softer, smoother, more supple.

The bulk in your upper body begins to disappear. Your shoulders grow smaller, your arms thinner, your back narrows and you feel weaker. The new layers of fat in your lower body give your hips a softer, more rounded feminine look. Your mood is subject to change in different ways, something akin to PMS.

Your testicles have shrunken as well as your prostate. You no longer produce sperm. Only a small amount of seminal fluid produced by your prostate comes out when you ejaculate. Your erections are probably less dramatic, or perhaps all but non-existent. Your sex drive is less aggressive than it was when you were still physically a man.

Two years pass. Your breasts have reached size B, or if your lucky, size C, very few girls Continue reading

Pin It