The tests were conclusive. I really was, and am, a woman. The uterus, the belief that I could menstruate, were not hallucinations or delusions, but the very frank expression of my interior female identity. Even though there was otherwise not one single traditionally feminine trait or characteristic in my character. Nor was I really masculine. Gwen did tell me that, but for her being a biological woman, she otherwise could see absolutely no difference between us as two women. And Gwen, though not a lesbian, was hardly what anyone could call a stereotype of conventional femininity. We actually through this process became great friends, and to this day we are still in contact with each other. I actually had mixed feelings about the hormonal treatment. I didn't care much about changing my voice, though for a male, my voice had always had a higher than usual timbre. Nor did I particularly want to grew a set of breasts, and really, the modest gains from the hormones have left me appearing one could say, rather deficient in the chest department. Honestly, all I wanted was a uterus and the ability to conceive and bear a child, something which not even God was about to do for me, which comes as no surprise, given that my case would have been even a greater challenge to the architect of the cosmos than Jesus being born of a virgin...
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