Chapter Seven: Thankful

This middle sex is such a frustrating way of life. Caught between each gender--not really part of either, trapped in this gray fog of the middle zone. Where neutral genders, hermaphrodites, undecided and all other assortments of the damaged genders reside. Some find it comfortable, I once spoke with a young hermaphrodite woman (or at least, she was addressed as ‘she’ at the time.) who told me she felt free. Untethered to the laws and restrictions of one gender. She was perfectly able to trade off to whatever gender she felt like at the moment. I’m sure there are many people who would kill for that privilege. Some can do it anyways, regardless of actual sex.
But not me, I really do feel set in my chosen gender. Yet this infuriating difference between me and other men my age is such an enormous gap, it leaves us practically incapable to properly interact on the level of fellow men.
Yes, I do have the physical sex of a male, and I’m glad that at least that could remain somewhat intact. But I have the unfortunate luscious build of a thin, lanky and young girl. Thicker hips and soft, round face. Spared from the horror of breasts, I am left with this feminine “pear” shape. If my genetics didn’t contain the thinner design, it would be much too obvious to remain as a male in this society without some sort of explaining or maybe surgery.
I have to work hard to look masculine, which is so frustrating seeing as how others can walk the streets with such a... “manly” look so effortlessly. So clearly male without the slightest effort. I have to exercise my upper torso and arms, in an attempt to broaden my curved, feminine shoulders. It works somewhat, I now have more of the thin and slightly sculpted figure of just a skinny guy. With this unfortunate layer of unexplainable fat that my extra two sets of estrogen provide.
There are many things testosterone provides that people don’t recognize. It helps build muscle, it is responsible for chest, arm, leg and facial hair. It fuels competitiveness and destructive proclivities. It generates fertility, the ability to provide the genetic material a woman needs to create life.
I am exempt from all of these privileges and curses alike.
Though never tested, there is no doubt in my, nor my physician’s mind that I am as sterile as a hollow brick.
Some people say “Y’know what else are commonly sterile? Ligers!”
The only answer I can think of is “Great, so we’re both inhuman freaks of nature.”
But hey, at least I’m alive. Not some bizarre conjoined twin or an unfortunate middle between full absorption and conjoined. At least she still has a bit of a say in what happens with what parts of her body remain. At least I am still somewhat clearly a man. At least I am not so commonly mistaken for a woman, unlike my childhood years. That though, is thanks to my pretty blond locks of sweet little curls which I got from my crazy (but still very pretty and feminine) Mother. At least I’m single, I have no poor woman to trouble with my health quirks and sterility. At least my father still cares. At least someone cares.
Be thankful. Not many others are as lucky as you.
Not many are as unfortunate either.
Be thankful.

Reviews

[Ras Fish]

Great chapter, I love his portrayal of his gender and how he feels about it. Great work on that, I feel like your painting a picture of him and his life for me. Thumbs up.

[Ivy Navillus]

I actually wrote this chapter separately before I even started the big project. We were doing Writers' Workshop and the word of the day was "luscious". So that's where I went with it... XD