Even though I lived 34 years under the influence of testosterone, I never understood the fascination that many men had with female masterbation. As far as I knew, people masturbated…so what?

But then, I was a girl with a horrifying and very nearly fatal birth-defect, a perfectly healthy, almost hairless, thin/muscular male body. I was at a loss when they talked about women and sex, smile and chuckle a bit, but it was obvious to them that I didn’t ‘, get it’. It was always awkward, to say the least, but I was athletic and physically fearless enough that no one ever had the nerve to confront me, question me, beyond a raised eyebrow. They might even chuckle a bit at me, with a shake of the head, and surely talked about me behind my back, but after witnessing my feats of strength and athletic prowess, no one ever quite had the nerve to challenge me. I felt like I was walking a mile-high tightrope, until I could get away, with apparent good reason, and isolate myself, reading anything and everything. As time went on, the drinking got worse and worse…

I apologise, I’m supposed to be commenting on your essay…I’m rambling on about myself…

I’m in recovery, very introspective, and my new sponsor wants me to tell her my life story on Tuesday.

I couldn’t sleep last night and I’m a little tired…

I did enjoy your essay. Obviously it got me thinking…writing, even if it was the wrong time.

Thanks 😍😘😇