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A Nervous Introduction

Started by JodieBlonde, June 22, 2007, 02:32:16 PM

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JodieBlonde

I am very nervous about this..so please bear with me as I let a little out of the box at a time. I am told that I could sell refrigerators to the Eskimos, so I have a gift for talking..but more on that later if you please.

I was raised by my mom who tried to keep me out of harm's way by raising me as a daughter for many years. I was a product of "brother-in-law" marriage, as my dad was lost presumed in the war and declared dead.

He wasn't..and I was born 4 months after he returned from WW-II. Maybe it was a Poloroid birth..but mom kept him at bay by dressing me and raising me as a girl for about 16 years.

That's where my story starts, but I wonder if my life experience is reason enough for me to be here.

I am "platform-crossed" to say the least; have had some therapy and medical intervention that brought some issues to the surface and I have "conditions" that make it harder and harder to conceal every day.

Hopefully I can find a little clarity in my search for emotions that are both male and female, and a body that works as male, but yearns for my female Phoenix 70%.

As introductions go, I guess this is kinda cryptic...but I am never at a loss for words...I just visit the emotional side of my mind and words and paragraphs and pages flow easily from me. I'd like to have some input from those who might have insight to my situation and can help me make good and decent choices.

Having been a lurker here for quite a while and reading many of the posts and questions, I haven't seen anything quite the same as I have experienced...but I am really opening my heart here and seeking information and some support for what I have lived so far. Who knows where this will lead...maybe I am happy as I am and need no further changes, but I don't think so. 70% of me is unhappy..but I can survive if I have to with the conditions at hand.

Looking forward to some answers and probably lots of questions from anyone who might read this, I'll close now and see if I have any responses.....

JodieBlonde
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Robyn

Welcome, Jodie.  I'm sure you'll find lots of people here with whom to exchange ideas.  Do check out our rules and the several areas we offer, including Chat, Links and our transgender Wiki.

Your mom dressed and 'hid' you as a girl til age 16.  Shifting then to boy mode must have been difficult for you and perhaps a problem in high school.

It isn't clear to me if you are now trying to shift back to girl mode or struggling to accommodate boy mode.  Perhaps you can tell us more about your current journey.

Whichever direction you are trying to travel, finding a gender counselor is probably a very important step.  (See our links under Medical.)

Robyn
When we walk to the edge of all the light we have and take the step into the darkness of the unknown, we must believe that one of two things will happen. There will be something solid for us to stand on or we will be taught to fly. — Patrick Overton
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no_id

No worries at all JodieBlonde; being nervous is part of the game, and we all like a good introduction. ;)
The fact that you have opened up to this community is a big step, but now that you have shared a partial of your story several members may be able to provide you with the right answers and/or guidance. After all, lurkers can only watch and hope that what they search for will knock them in the head... Nevertheless, a welcome from me and I hope you will find what you are looking for at Susan's. :)
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Emerald


Hi Jodie!
Your life experience is quite unique and fascinating!
I didn't detect that you feel resentment to your mother who imposed a gender presentation upon you. Nor did I hear indication that you felt uncomfortable in that presentation during your youth.

Tell us about now, who you are today.
Your feel a 70% identification with genetic females, yes? And your body looks physically male, yes?
Behaviourally, do others say they perceive you manner to be effeminate, manly, or a combination of the two?
In your worldly life, does your current occupation reflect a traditional male or female gender role or is it a gender-free job?
In your public and private wardrobes, is there menswear, womenswear, a combination of both, or clothing that is unisex?
In your domestic life, do you consider yourself to be the homekeeper, or the breadwinner, or both?
Does your romantic/emotional life indicate a passive female role, a more aggressive male role, or an interaction between equals?
How would you prefer any of these to be different in the future than as they are now?
In what remarkable gender-ways does your life seem different now than when you were under 17 years old?

Thank you for sharing Jodie!
-Emerald  :icon_mrgreen:
Androgyne.
I am not Trans-masculine, I am not Trans-feminine.
I am not Bigender, Neutrois or Genderqueer.
I am neither Cisgender nor Transgender.
I am of the 'gender' which existed before the creation of the binary genders.
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tinkerbell

Hello Jodie and welcome to Susan's!

Thank you for your introduction.  Please take a few moments to get familiar with all the forums of the site, review the site rules and take advantage of our many resources such as the wiki, chat, and the links listed at the main page.  We look forward to your future posts and participation.  Enjoy your stay at Susan's!  :)

tink :icon_chick:

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Jillieann Rose

Hi Jodie,
Welcome to Susan's.
Jillieann
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Suzy

Hi, Jodie!

Welcome to Susan's.  You do indeed have a fascinating story.  But you will be surprised at how well many here can identify with all or part of what you are going through.  So join in and start talking.  I look forward to seeing that gift of gab! 

Again, welcome!

Kristi
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JodieBlonde

#7
QuoteYour life experience is quite unique and fascinating!
I didn't detect that you feel resentment to your mother who imposed a gender presentation upon you. Nor did I hear indication that you felt uncomfortable in that presentation during your youth.

¶ Well, I did and still do have deep resentment and then acceptance for the trauma of all the moves we made as a family. I have written a not-so-short diatribe on the situation with some memories faded more than others, some very vivid. I imagine that since my dad was higher-echelon as an officer in the submarine service, my mom took certain liberties with protocol and we just hopped all over Europe, North Africa, the East coast of the US and Cuba.

QuoteTell us about now, who you are today.

¶ I am married/widowed/remarried with four surviving children of my own. My wife has her four children and thankfully none are living with us at this point except for an occasional weekend of my wife's babysitting for some of her g-kids.

¶ I am retired (forcibly for medical conditions) and live on disability that I paid into for 43 years as a heavy line mechanic.

QuoteYour feel a 70% identification with genetic females, yes? And your body looks physically male, yes?

¶ Well...not naked..but externally with a modicum of clothing, I present as a natal male, yes. Underneath the thin candy shell I have some physical attributes that are concealed.

QuoteBehaviourally, do others say they perceive you manner to be effeminate, manly, or a combination of the two?

¶ I am not "swishy" and have the scars from altercations with other people and mechanical devices that caused me some great damage and ultimately made me retire as disabled..so..NO, I was doing all the required male things. I have never been called out for acting too femme or out of character. I have a tendency to look for a light of intelligence in someone's eyes and we get on very well from that point on. I love mental gymnastics with people who consider me non-confrontational and although I am an "in the face" type person, I mean them no harm and they very soon detect it.

¶ Talking is one of my greatest traits. Raised as female, I got the full female bonding from maids, nannies, housekeepers and cooks who treated and dressed me as female for all my formative years.

¶ I am much more sentimental. I have a serious problem as I have some sort of total recall memory process...but I suspect there is some selective/protective blocking of my history that may be too hard to handle even yet at my age. Usually my male side of the brain gives me direction, but I can instantly switch to the female side for whatever reason (Maybe I see something that sparkles and catches my attention.
).. and it is a battle to keep them apart and they are sometimes at odds with each other. One side want to emote and talk about things, the other wants to buck up and just fix what's broken.
Quote
In your worldly life, does your current occupation reflect a traditional male or female gender role or is it a gender-free job?

¶ I am retired for all purposes and spend a lot of time fishing, 4-wheel driving and playing guitar and bass for the fun of it. I played in C/W bands during times in the past with my first wife before she passed away. I always presented male to the public, but my wife and I were sheet-rippers, if you know what I mean. She always enjoyed and actually purchased me clothing to help our sex lives and sack time.

¶ I worked in all male activities and venues...mechanical things... and didn't ever want to be involved in what I considered to be "wimpy, girl-y stuff" which I think now was an act of overcompensation.

¶ I was a pre-med major in college and a shared minor of fine arts and English Lit.

QuoteIn your public and private wardrobes, is there menswear, womenswear, a combination of both, or clothing that is unisex?

¶ I have an assortment of male and semi-female outer clothing. I wear size 10 petite stretch jeans, (I like Gloria Vanderbilt's and Levi's the best), women's jogging athletic shoes with 2 inch heels and extra inserts. I have pairs of Western boots, very expensive ones with 4 and 5 inch custom heels on them.

¶ I wear many articles of female undergarments though. I like the fit of Hanes Her Way hip-hugger panties as they don't get pulled down when I wear the stretch jeans. I don't tuck, but outwardly appear all male.

¶ I have a rather full set of 38C breasts from my treatment for prostate problems. I opted for HRT and Casodex to minimize the overgrowth of my prostate. My dad's father, brothers and he all had cancer and my medicos wanted to be a little pro-active in my case. It worked as I have the prostate of a 16 year old with no untoward effects except for the gynecomastia and some fat-shifting. During the 1980's I also received Premarin as treatment for migraines. It worked much to the chagrin of people who say that estrogen is the cause of all headaches like migraines.

QuoteIn your domestic life, do you consider yourself to be the homekeeper, or the breadwinner, or both?

¶ I made all the money in both of my families. My wives never worked at all. I am an excellent cook and had considered becoming a Cordon Bleu chef while I worked as a pastry chef during my college years.

QuoteDoes your romantic/emotional life indicate a passive female role, a more aggressive male role, or an interaction between equals?

¶ Both my wives have favorably responded to my body and mental/sexual values. I can be their best friend, have fantastic sex with them as male and also emote for them in "touchy-feely" activities that they so enjoy after coitus.  Both also bought me wardrobes and lingerie as they knew it would only enhance and satisfy their sexual fantasies and appetites better. I find that I am not a person who really likes children and would prefer to leave that to my wife. I don't have any negative thoughts except that babies leak from both ends and they are always needing attention..something I feel might be learned from my dad's lack of paternal interest in me. He actually resents my breathing air that he might someday need. I am his brother's son and he has never let me forget it..and that's even worse now that my mom's deceased and cannot run interference for me any more.

QuoteHow would you prefer any of these to be different in the future than as they are now?

¶ Wow..that's a tough one to answer. We all get the "I shouldda-saids" and the "I shouldda-dones" after time and circumstances have passed. If I had it to do all over again, I guess I would have gone all the way to female..but the timing was all wrong..social perceptions weren't what they are today and they stigma of changing one's gender was science fiction with a few exceptions like Christine Jorgensen or a few others.

¶ Raised during the "Haight-Ashbury" hippy 1960's days in my junior and senior high school years, there was a general softening of attitudes, but only in select and limited circles. Broadly speaking, not being a pun there, it was freak-ish to even think such thoughts in a Republican and uptight society that was still trying to come to grips with imminent mass destruction from the atomic bomb and morals that were going to Hell in a hand basket.
Quote
In what remarkable gender-ways does your life seem different now than when you were under 17 years old?

¶ Well...I have accepted that as a guy with breasts and emotions that can be from one minute hard as steel to soft as prepubescent facial hair, I have a rough road of emotions and outlooks that, had I gone to my softer side, would not be embarrassing or out of the norm for a female. As it is, I have this constant nagging that something is missing and might be just around the next corner. I walk around a LOT of corners.

Note: I love what has gone on so far in my life...but that nagging little voice says: "What if...." to me a lot. I also have so much more to explain and say.

Did I mention that I am retired and therefor have lots of time to write and generally think about things?

Sorry for the verbosity here..but you asked!

Edit: Removed dosage info ~ Kate
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Maebh

Quote from: JodieBlonde on June 22, 2007, 02:32:16 PM
That's where my story starts, but I wonder if my life experience is reason enough for me to be here.

Why not?

Quote from: JodieBlonde on June 22, 2007, 02:32:16 PM
Having been a lurker here for quite a while and reading many of the posts and questions, I haven't seen anything quite the same as I have experienced...but I am really opening my heart here and seeking information and some support for what I have lived so far. Who knows where this will lead...maybe I am happy as I am and need no further changes, but I don't think so. 70% of me is unhappy..but I can survive if I have to with the conditions at hand.

Looking forward to some answers and probably lots of questions from anyone who might read this, I'll close now and see if I have any responses.....

JodieBlonde

Which 70%? How? Why?

Welcome JolieBlonde, keep lurking and keep sharing. Hopefully you'll find here an understanding and accepting space to explore your needs and feelings. Good luck on you journey of discovery, self-acceptance and self-realisation.

Hope, Light, Laughter, Love & Respect.

Maebh
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HelenW

Welcome, Jodi!

If you need wisdom and support, this is a wonderful place to get both.  While your life trajectory seems to be atypical from many of us I still can relate to the things you've written about.  It sometimes seems to me that we are all "gender outlaws" (to steal a phrase) of some sort here at Susan's and as such we can certainly relate and welcome another.

I'm happy to make your acquaintance, Jodi, and I hope we'll get to know each other a little better real soon.

hugs & smiles
Emelye
FKA: Emelye

Pronouns: she/her

My rarely updated blog: http://emelyes-kitchen.blogspot.com

Southwestern New York trans support: http://www.southerntiertrans.org/
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mavieenrose

Yes, welcome JodieBlonde, your story does sound very interesting indeed.
I think you're lucky to have found this forum, personally I haven't found any place that even comes close elsewhere on the internet.  The discussions are frank and enlightening, and the people are truly wonderful.

MVER XXX
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JodieBlonde

The 70% of 'me' is the female side. The memories I have are most vivid in my third or forth year when we lived in Cuba, and did so for another year or so.

Since I was raised by all those women since infant-hood and had to go to preschool for Americans who lived in Guantanamo, they assisted me in registering as a little girl. After toddler stage I had long blonde wavy hair and was always fussed over and made to feel pretty by everybody in the schools I attended.  The first pre-school was in Cuba and I played with and participate in activities with the other little girls.

I remember drawing on a cement patio of some sort with huge pieces of colored chalk with my dress being held out by the position I had to get in to draw on that patio, the boys just stood off to the side and watched us showing everything we owned under our dresses. I don't really know if they were getting a thrill, but maybe those instincts are early-risers for them.

What we drew, the artwork we did, usually consisted of flowers and hopscotch patterns which all the girls played with me. The janitor would wash off the designs at the end of that period and we had a clean slate to write on the next day. The boys took great delight in seeing our girl-stuff all get washed away every time it happened. I thought they were being mean and I didn't like them very much for that. I wanted the hop-scotch patterns to be left for tomorrow at least as they took a little time to draw.

There was a nap-time where we all rolled out a little mat that we brought from home for us to lie on and probably give the teacher a chance to slip out and get a shot of rum to relieve their "headaches" from all those little kids. They always let us out of school early on Fridays, and now I think the teachers made this policy so they could get a head start on getting drunk for the weekend. My mat had pretty flowers and I think a figure that looked a little like me embroidered into it.

All the time my mom made sure that I always carried and had my mascot with me...a little cloth doll I called "Bebe" which I got from the Cuban housekeeper who seemed to take me to her side more than the other domestics in the house. The upstairs maid had sewn this doll for me out of cloth scraps, and it had a realy pretty dress made out of some of the old clothing or crinolines I had worn.

I would walk in the park with a little doll stroller and Bebe sitting up watching the world go by. Mom made sure that I took Bebe with me everywhere, maybe to complete the charade of a boy in a dress. Issue-wise, I think it never happened because the age I was then there would be no very recognizable male-female characteristics to see anyway.

We'd ride the small carousel which was hand-powered by the dark skinned Cuban boys for anyone who wanted to ride. I too had a dark tan, and I believe it was a two-piece bathing suit I wore because I can remember the lighter strap marks on my shoulders that lasted all through the Winter when we went to Connecticut to visit relatives.

There never was any trouble with schools as I think the whole package was so well reinforced that my sexuality was never questioned. I usually wore black patent leather Mary Janes and little fringed socks that were really low, almost like a slipper. They bothered my as they felt uncomfortable...I was always trying to pull them up higher where I thought the tops should be...sometimes I pulled off the fringe or lace or whatever the edge design was.

I always wore crinolines and frilly dresses with semi-transparent bodices and puffy sleeves. Wearing a slip..or what was really a tunic of some sort under my dress bodice offered me some modesty and was required for a girl according to the very Catholic maids and cooks and housekeepers values. Under my crinolines I wore those little girl panties with lots and lots of rows of lace sewn along the backside, usually in a soft contrasting pattern from the panty material.  The legs were elasticized keeping what I later discovered as (what my mom called..) my "she-she. Never actually questioning what I looked like with out clothes, everything seemed normal to me and I just expected that all the other girls had a she-she too.

Looking back, it was kinda funny as I think that no-one was allowed to see the skin of my chest, yet could look all they wanted at my bottom. I later learned that dresses and skirts were designed to flaunt our sexuality and allow easy access to it by the men who were to be in our lives a lot later on.

I loved wearing lace and ribbons and the little sun bonnets that the maids made for me. I think most of my clothing was hand-made by them as everything was just perfect on me...at least they oooh'd and ahh'd all the time when they tried a new outfit on me, clapping sometimes as I twirled and spun my dresses or hair flung out from my body. I went through a lot of fittings for new clothes when they had time for me to be posing on the kitchen table so they could reach me better and pin things where they would later sew them.

Many times the Cuban women in our house would make me something that really sparkled. Some of the native clothing on Cuba was very brilliant and sparkle-y, both for me and women and the men of the country. Most of your Spanish/Latin peoples are very desirous of the flash and standing out in a crowd that baubles and rhinestones and sparkles offer on certified occasions. Usually the men wore their "suits of lights" for special holidays and celebrations, while the women could wear such glitter almost any time they wanted to advertise their sexuality and available-ness. I noticed that, and was glad that I could sparkle whenever I felt like it.

One day as my mother and I were walking to an open air market I saw a very disturbing scene which to this day is etched in my mind and can play as a video tape-in-demand in full color and Dolby 5.1.

As we entered the market place, "Mr. Blue"...a very dark..so dark that he shone with a blue tinge to his skin, Jamaican type would always pick me up and swoop me onto his shoulder, carrying me above the heads of everyone, even my mother. It must've been twenty feet above the ground; either that or I was so small in comparison that it just seemed that way.

This man was the local police officer, judge and later I found out executioner too.

So respected was he, any time he started to assume a sitting position, there'd be a chair under him before he hit the ground. I know it wasn't fear or loathing, but reverence and a quiet demeanor that he exuded and that the people were all safer for his presence.

Anyway...we were entering the market place with me on his shoulder, him wearing that striking uniform with the pith helmet, the ceremonial sword, chromed of course in a pure white woven sheath hanging on a cummerbund that encircled his blue jacket with the big gold buttons. His pants were white with a red and gold stripe down the outside of each leg and high boots or alternately puttees and spats that covered his shoes.

He all-of-a-sudden put me down carefully and I swear..he took three strides and crossed fifty or seventy-five feet down the aisle of the row of fruit stand row we were in to grab a fellow by the scruff of the neck. Hoisting the fellow's right hand to the sky and for all to see, I noticed that he had some..but it turned out to be all but his little finger were removed or missing from his hand. As a thief, every time he was caught, he had to sacrifice a finger. He had been caught by then three times taking something that didn't belong to him.

Mr. Blue removed his sash and placed the man's hands behind his back tying them there and the man knelt down to the ground with his head bowed down.

Out came that chrome sword and it removed the thief's head.

I saw the blood spurt out of where his neck should have been for what seemed like hours before the body slumped to the ground in a fetal position.

No-body said a word, but in a little while a man came over and put a blanket or carpet over the body which now had a large pool of blood under it, running downhill toward the gutter. Someone kicked loose sand and dirt into the stream of blood to cover it.

Mr. Blue wiped his sword clean with a handkerchief he carried and tossed that too into the heap on the dead man, and re-sheathing his sword he came back to me and we resumed our trek inside the rest of the marketplace.

I tossed Bebe into the same pile as it just felt the right thing to do.

I was glad that I wasn't that man and was actually glad that I wasn't ANY man at all.


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Jillieann Rose

Wow!
What a story Jodie.
I'm sure that was very traumatic incident for you.
And something that anyone especially a small child would remember the rest of there life.

Do you know why your mom dressed you like a girl?
Was it because it was safer to be a girl in Cuba?
When did you start dress like a boy?
Jillieann

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JodieBlonde

My dad had a tremendous dislike for me as I was the progeny of my father's brother (Uncle to me) and my mom's desire to have a child after the death (which even the Navy reported had happened) of my father.

To this day, my dad lives only a mile or so away from me and we don't talk or see each other at all. It's been that way all my life and that's also the reason why my mom decided to hide me in plain sight.

Figuring that he'd not hurt a baby girl....she dressed and raised me that way to keep me alive.

I both dislike and adore her for the devotion to my safety.

If I had never felt the softer side of life and just been raised as boy...IF I survived long enough....there wouldn't be the confusion in my mind as I have.

This makes for interesting navel contemplation; is my condition nature or nurture?

Suppose...just SUPPOSE I had this female proclivity at birth and I'd have gone the way of femmedom...would I be in the pickle in which I find myself now or not?

Having fathered five children myself and had a totally hetero-sexual marriage twice, I don't dislike being male..I just miss the female parts that I am not allowed to publicly exhibit without danger or concern for social status in this one two horse town. 

Physically, I don't believe I could ever pass...and I tried cross dressing a few times..but large shoulders and no butt are disheartening to see in the mirror. I'd need a total full-body skin graft to get anywhere near that ability.

My surprise was finding a second wife after my first passed away, who actually likes my body and appreciates that I have the softness I do have. She never blinked when I first let her see what I had up top..in fact we share the same bras and things. She, however is a shoe nut. Imelda has nothing on my wife. We have shoe racks behind every door but the entryway and kitchen. I wish I had a smaller foot to wear her shoes too..but we are at least two sizes apart.

I cook..just last week I made eggplant parmasan with scratch sauce the way my mom made it. The eggplant and tomatoes came from my garden. I finished off with home made cream puffs with French heavy cream vanilla filling in scratch pastry. Next week I make cioppino with abalone, crab, scallops and sea bass.

I iron for my wife..she can't decide how to hold the iron, and the few attempts she made left scorches and seams all puckered when she was done. Personally, I like to iron her pleated white linen dress with the frocked top and puff sleeves the best. It costs over $10 to get it done professionally, and I can do it in an hour for free.

We split the dishes and I don't wash floors and windows, although I do a better job. Ya gotta leave a woman some sense of accomplishment and pride I always say. 

Makeup hasn't been a big desire for me..even though (confession time here) I had a makeup artist do me a couple of times for a party my first wife and I attended. Full blonde wig mixed into my own hair, full makeup, pink peek-a-boob blouse with red lingerie, flared skirt an inch above my knees, foam hips and thighs and several pairs of panty hose with scarlet red open-toed three inch heels and I looked like my mother only a lot taller. The boobs were really totally mine and the cleavage of a good wired bra make for best jiggle effects of womanhood.

We drove in my own car to the party one time, and as it was a stick shift '73 green ElCamino that the whole town we lived in knew: I found a new sense of power.

We were sitting at a left turn packet on a very major intersection across from Disneyland and a car I knew pulled up alongside on the right. Now...I could tell the guy driving wanted to see just who was driving my car with my wife in shotgun...as he kept trying to see under the roofline of my car. I just hiked up my skirt to show a lot more leg with the dark tops of the pantyhose and he couldn't get his eyes up to my face. I KNEW I had a power that I had sortta felt many times in the past and didn't really recognize until that moment. My wife snickered and said: "How's it feel to be in control?" My heart was pounding and I had a hard time breathing for the rest of the night.







Posted on: June 24, 2007, 03:31:28 PM
I have written a rather large (even for me) story that covers almost all of the remembered things that happened to me..but I wonder if I should set it up on a different post site..as this is just INTRODUCTIONS and I feel I am a little past that now...

Any ideas what I should do?
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