Was I Supposed to be a Boy?

I have never questioned my sexuality because I’ve been pretty convinced, almost since I was born, that I’m gay. I’m also quite sure about my gender. I’m a girl. I like makeup, and dresses and being overly emotional sometimes, and having the door opened for me and all that other feminine happy horse-stuff. I even like guys thinking they are smarter than me just because they are guys. It’s more fun when I demonstrate they’re not.

But 56 years after I’m born comes the question, was I supposed to be a boy!?

No, I’m not having gender issues. I don’t see any need to cut off my boobs. Gravity is rapidly taking them out of eyesight anyway, deflating them to where they lay down and will, in a few years, give me a more flat chested appearance, whether I want one or not.

And no, I’ve never felt the need to pee standing up, and the head perched on my shoulders functions quite well thank you, so I don’t need a backup between my legs.

So, why am I questioning myself, today?

Well, a couple of reports are floating around alleging that people are more aggressive and can think more rationally, if they got more testosterone in utero.

According to the BBC report, more testosterone means you can park your car better than someone who didn’t get much testosterone in utero. But it also means if you got it, then you probably drive like a crazy person, and are the reason for the creation of the term “road rage.”

For the unenlightened, “in utero” means while still inside your mom’s body. Testosterone is the male hormone that makes men, well men. As we women age and lose estrogen, which makes us women, we grow beards and exhibit other male like tendencies. Old men also tend to start looking and acting like old women, too, which proves they also have some estrogen in their bodies, but that’s for another day.

The way you can tell if you got the masculine dose of testosterone, but still look like a girl, is your ring finger, in relation to your index finger. If your ring finger is longer than your index finger, then you got more testosterone in utero.

That means you can probably parallel park your car exactly between the lines and you probably drive way too aggressively for your own good.

It’s more pronounced on my left hand, but my ring fingers are definitely longer than my index fingers.

Hmm...I guess that also explains why I’m good at sports, can think my way out of a paper bag, I drive too fast, look good in a fedora or newsboy cap, prefer trousers to mini skirts, and hate Joan Crawford “come-f**k-me-pumps.”
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