Why I am the way I am... maybe

After reading Nadine's recent post "Of Course I Want Boobs," I got to thinking about my own boobs and recalled what I wrote eight years ago. 

My mother had a miscarriage before she had me.

Back then, physicians prescribed Diethylstilbestrol (DES) to prevent miscarriages in women who had had previous miscarriages.

Did my mother take DES? She is deceased, so I will never know. But, if she did take DES, then that may explain why I am the way I am.

DES can cause feminization of the male fetus and some studies suggest that otherwise-male children exposed to DES before birth may be more likely to be transsexual women than male children who have not been exposed.

Although I will never know if my mother took DES, there are other indications that she did. For example, I have Gynecomastia and although the causes of Gynecomastia remain uncertain, it has generally been attributed to an imbalance of sex hormones, that is, too much estrogen.

In addition to Gynecomastia, I am more womanly than the average guy in other ways. For example, my mannerisms and speech patterns have feminine traits and my emotions are more feminine than masculine.

A few years ago, I was doing outreach with three transsexuals at a local college and a student asked how the transsexuals' hormone regimen affected them. All three transsexuals admitted that they became more emotional after they began their hormone regimen, for example, one stated that she never cried at movies before taking hormones, but after taking hormones, she cried at movies all the time. I spoke up that I never took hormones and that I cry at movies all the time!

An overabundance of female hormones may be the cause of my proclivity for the feminine. And my parents may have nurtured that proclivity.

Dad was absent in my early life working two jobs to support his wife and kids. Mom cherished her firstborn child (me), coddled and pampered me and instilled in me many traits that were considered "feminine." With Dad absent early-on, Mom was all I had to model myself after and that I did, which just compounded my feminization.

I had two strikes against me (too many female hormones and too little male role modeling) and when my third opportunity to swing came, I just stood there with the bat on my shoulder and was called out (of the male gender) on a called third strike.

I did not bother swinging because I liked myself. I was very satisfied with the results of the first two strikes. I liked the way things were turning out. I did not mind being a girly boy.

Except for some abuse from the bullies and rejection by their female followers, being a girly boy was a pretty good deal. I could partake in whatever boy or girl pursuits interested me and not have to worry about tarnishing my image.

And when I took up the male pursuit of female impersonation, I found that I excelled at it because I already spoke and acted like a lady, I took to the art of cosmetics like a swan takes to water, and I could fill a size 38B bra without any padding.

And so it goes.

Wearing BooHoo (Source: BooHoo)

Willi Besle, professional femulator in early 20th Century Germany