I must admit that I was suffering lately from inferiority complexes; quite significant even. This feeling of being afflicted by and by to be boring to be able to attract any attention, with the taint of normality.
I feel increasingly overtaken me as a woman, yes, sometimes I ask myself: Was I ever actually one, according to our current understanding, according to the modern definition? In the midst of this identity crisis, I can suddenly no longer answer the simplest questions, long cherished (wrong !!!) certainties dissolve before my eyes into thin air!
I'm all dirty, I suffer. But since I have now through: Because I'm on the way out - I am a template!
The most prominent attribute of my femininity - my bosom - turns out to be at all times on and hourly hormone-controlled swelling over the upper rib cage out, which I myself should not define; my-pleasing, self-love morning views before my mirror image should I set. For I must learn to share this sight: With men, and those who want to be there, women and those who want to be there and trannies and those who want to be there, and yes, probably even with stem cells, the still large projects. This is not easy for me. First. (more ...)