In the middle of the night, last night, I was thinking about your question, Jaimey, as I stared into the bathroom mirror. Earlier, searching for medical information, I was distracted and followed a link to learn the "11 'don't-tell-the-wife' secrets all men keep". Having read all 11, I decided once more that I am not part of the set of creatures called men, i.e., those were not my secrets or even my concerns.
Then it came to me that those things on my chest were concrete manifestations of who I feel myself to be inside. Not quite concrete, they are soft, squishy, and, to my eye, cute. Granted I've decided not to transition, and I have little desire to cross dress. But my body made these (with the help of finasteride) battling odds of 200 to 1. They don't do a lot of bouncing, yet, nor is a bra required or useful. I'll face that bridge when and if the time comes. I not terribly concerned that my shirt hides them; when I take the shirt off, I know it's me. And as Nfr wrote, they feel right.
And I know what you are saying about body changes, though from the other direction. I remember telling a friend, when I was six, that I wished boys' voices didn't have to change. Shaving had no attraction for me, and I stopped it as soon as I could. Oh, and while you're waving the wand, you are welcome to what's left of my prostate
As I wrote, my best friend is as perplexed about these things as you, but so far willing to put up with me for my other not-standard-issue-male qualities.
BTW, welcome trippedwire. What do you want to be when you grow up?
Simone
