Around age 6 or 8 I made the medical choice to see who get get closest to the edge of the ice without falling in. I definitely lost. I'm glad my brother caught me, because the lack of ice formed was due to high currents under the nearby bridge.
I felt claiming hermaphroditic (only because the multitudinous surgeries left me with a 2 inch kindergarten pencil clitoris and a major labia majora that are now surgically inoperable) was the only way to go. I found myself absolutely awestruck when I grew the courage to admit to myself that there was no "gender" box to check that applied to me. After all the psychoanalysis and psychotropics, I'm finally at a point I can understand society and the flawed political correctness that accompanies it. I realize that only unnatural occurrences are dubbed true"causes" and naturally occurring events such as mine - I was born hermaphroditic - are overlooked for the political betterment. Alas, I will exist in limbo with the realistic realization that nobody actually cares about the hermaphroditic plight. Woe are those closed minded SOBs!
For myself? Before age 7? No. My parents took me to the hospital for a fever when I was 3. I ended up on the operating table have my kidney removed. But not a decision that a little kid would make.
Yeah - I started painting my toenails when I was three because that’s what cousin did. Then I learned that guys aren’t supposed to paint their toenails. This was a major medical decision because if I continued painting my toenails I would have changed into a female! #Genderfluid
Wow, that is such a privileged white male type of attitude! I am currently working on my degree in Genders studies, Non-white ethnic studies, feminist studies, LGBT studies, and Islamic women studies.
And I am doing ALL of this despite being oppressed my whole life as a blue non binary millennial with rich lesbian Buddhist LGBTQAUDMXP+ parents.
No. I was too busy moving dirt with my Tonka trucks and then using the John Deer tractor to smooth it out. Lots of fun. I was also shooting Indians, playing kick ball, and starting fires. I was a little pyro.
I hauled lots of building supplies too. My dad built our home and so there was always nails and other things laying around that I could put on a truck and haul it somewhere. There was a big dirt pile and lots of supplies got hauled there and buried. I buried a tractor in there once and never found it and I still think about it to this day.
Show of Hands
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