Was I born a boy?

This piece was written a couple of weeks ago, and I’ve been hesitant to publish it for different reasons, but here it is!
My childhood wasn’t filled with moments of “I just knew I was born in the wrong body”, not even in hindsight. But more and more memories are coming to life as “moments that could count as gender-disorientation”.This is the only picture of me as a child that I really like and that I can recognize myself in, and that’s the way it’s always been.I was a very odd one, at least for being a girl. I loved floor ball, computers and fantasy. Boy things. And I never really tried to like girl stuff. I never got the hang of playing with dolls, I changed their clothes, but that’s all. I played a lot with Lego and my very best friends were boys. In middle school boys and girls started to socialize more separately, but I stubbornly kept socializing with both boys and girls. I played pool or cards during recess with the boys instead of reading fashion magazines with the girls. However I kept dancing ballet, and I’ve always enjoyed sowing.When puberty hit I covered up in long sleeves, had sports bras and long trousers. I had no makeup and refused to wear a bikini. When we went to the beach I would often sit fully clothed with a towel covering my head to shield me from the sun. I despised my period and I couldn’t see myself having sex like ever so I thought seriously about becoming a nun. I never enjoyed being recognized for my feminine qualities, but rather for my male qualities. Like being good at math and science, being a fierce back in floor ball, being thorough and logical. I cared little about my appearance other than dressing modestly and not drawing attention towards myself. But I never felt that I was born in the wrong body. I felt something wasn’t right, but when I realized I was gay I just thought that that was the reason I felt so different from the other girls and boys.

And then there’s the penis issue. I never even thought about the possibility of having a penis before I realized I was a trans man and I’ve never felt that I miss not having one. So as my first appointment at the gender clinic is coming closer (although there’s months left still) I started to think about what kind of bottom surgery I would want, if any. I’ve tried to imagine how it would feel to have a dick and balls and how I would feel about it. If I lay naked in bed and roll to my side, how would a penis and balls act? How would it feel? Will I still think about it at all after a while? Will it feel the same way that my boobs feel? Will I feel the same thing as I do towards my boobs – a simple tolerance to its movements but mostly ignoring it. That’s not a good feeling. I don’t want to go through surgery and then feel indifferent about my new things.

It turns out that my imagination sucks and I guess that’s one reason I’m so indecisive. I feel like I really want balls, that’s one thing I really do miss, but do I want a dick so bad that I would consider surgery? I’ve started to question if it wouldn’t just feel like it’s in my way all the time, I mean stuff flopping around in my groin as I move around.

Just in time, in the middle of my pondering, a small packet arrived by mail. At last my packer is here after almost four weeks in transit over the Atlantic. It’s arrival was very timely, now I don’t have to use my poor imagination as much anymore. I was a little hesitant at first to use it, considering my previous thoughts about floppy things on my body, but after just a day of wearing it I don’t want to take it of ever again. Then my period just started, and the thought of having a penis and period at the same time yucked me out so much that I left the packer at home. It felt so wrong not having the bulge between my legs and I felt really naked! So I guess I don’t have to worry anymore about what I might feel considering bottom surgery…

14 thoughts on “Was I born a boy?

  1. I still don’t know if I want surgery. It’s not helped by the fact that surgery scares the crap out of me! I figure I’ve still got time to think about it so for now I’m choosing to worry about it later.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I played with all of the “building” toys – Lego’s, blocks, Erector sets, Tinker-toys. Fortunately, my brother was 2 years older than me and he had everything I wanted to play with (my parents were forever trying to push dolls and doll-houses on me). So no wonder I became a Civil Engineer – although I ended up doing Transportation and Urban Planning.
    The bottom stuff was never an issue and still isn’t – although maybe that will change. I wish the surgeries were better. What kind of packer did you get?

    Liked by 1 person

    • I just got the masho packer, very basic but realistic feel (or so I think anyway, I have no experience of the real thing). The colour is a bit weird for most people, but looks natural on fair skinned me. I got boxers to hold it in place as well. A bonus is that you can use the packer as a stress-ball… 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  3. This sounds a lot like me. And I think I might really want to get myself a packer, just to find out how I’d feel about having those dangly bits down there. I keep shying away from it, yet wanting to do it at the same time.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. My childhood wasn’t filled with moments of “I just knew I was born in the wrong body” either. Chances are for both of us, there was no context for gender identification or transsexualism back in those days.. In December 1952 when I was three and playing with dolls, the first notable American transsexual, Christine Jorgensen, had become quite a media sensation in the press as I have read on the internet. I remember that my younger sister was tomboyish and could be a match physically to our two older brothers in flag football, yet I was not only very reserved but I often cried when I hurt myself and was incessantly taunted and teased throughout my primary and Jr. High school years as a “cry baby”. and a “weakling..”


    • I too had close to tears, got teased so bad I changed school and had a hard time socialising with other kids. I was deeply envious of the visibly tomboyish girl in our class and wished I could be something like her – but I knew that wasn’t socially accepted and had no idea how I would become like her. From a young age I preferred to play with boys and I’m not entirely sure why or how I managed to do that. We never became close friends though, not as close as my female friends even if I wasn’t very close to them either. I guess the pressure from family and friends to fit in like a good girl should to took the best of me…


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