I am one of four: a brother six years younger, another brother nine years younger, and a sister eleven years younger. My parents always said they would continue having children until they got a girl.
I didn't know I was a girl nor that there was anything like transitioning; I have always fantasized that someone would turn me into a girl/woman, and that would make me happy. I knew I was different and feared others could see that. I was described by adults who knew me as cute and sweet. My mother would threaten to put ribbons in my hair. She would insist there be a smile on my face when I left home.
I had friends of both sexes. I played forms of baseball and football and wrestled with boys; dolls and board games with girls. I was second-shortest in my class through eighth grade and unathletic--generally among the last picked for teams during gym. I spent much time alone, imagining--with or without toys, reading ravenously, walking, climbing trees and sides of buildings, and as I got older, bicycling. When old enough to take the train myself, I went downtown Saturdays: watching nature films at the Field Museum, eating lunch at DeMet's, and wandering the galleries of the Art Institute.
I took square dance lessons at school, and embarrassed myself at the recital because I had learned the girl's steps. High school dances were a time to gather in mixed clusters, discussing politics, school, and whatever, until chaperones would try to make us dance. I checked Wikipedia just now; I never learned to masturbate using any method for males described in the article (perhaps a method, described as used by infant girls). I never had night emissions and rarely spontaneous erections. Nor did I date in high school. I was president of the Spanish club while taking German.
I never liked dressing up at Halloween nor for school plays, and have wondered lately if that is because I always felt like I was playing a role, and might be discovered at any moment. I have described in other postings how I discovered the story of Christine Jorgenson, and knew I was like her, but her circumstances seemed unique, and her life after transitioning was anything but that of the average natal woman. So I have spent my life quietly trying to be myself, although in a man's body. I don't know what comes next.
S
