I Am A Man, I Think
I am a man, I think. I have the body parts for it. I’ve never really felt uncomfortable with it. I grew up as a boy, into a man, and I never felt like I didn’t belong in my own body. Occasionally, I wondered what I would be like as a woman. What would it be like to be a woman? What would it feel like to have a higher voice and longer hair, breasts and a vagina, to wear bras and panties on a daily basis? Sometimes I’d wear makeup and dresses, but most of the time I’d probably still just throw on sweats and a t-shirt and head out, the way I do now. But until recently, it was no more than a passing wonder. That’s not to say it’s become a predominant feature of my life lately -- it hasn’t -- but I have found myself genuinely wanting to be a woman recently. Not that I’m uncomfortable being a man. I like myself as I am, and I would be perfectly content living the rest of my life out as such. And it’s not like I want to live as a woman, necessarily. But once in awhile, maybe once or...