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naked, nursing, birts, mrsa, nude mature blogs , bisexual, message, mature pussy fucking , christchurch, sexual instruction, | Yearly visits to endocrinologists and pediatric urologists, lots of genital poking and prodding, hollywood and my mother's unspoken guilt and shame had all served to distance me considerably from my body: I was a walking head. In retrospect, it seems odd that a tomboy should have been so removed from her body. But instead of a daily, muddy, hollywood physical celebration of life, my tomboyhood was marked by a reckless disregard for the body and a strong desire to be annihilated. So hollywood I reached adolescence with no physical sense of self, and no desire to make that connection. All around me, my peers and former playmates were dating, fooling around, giving and getting hickeys, while I, whose puberty came in pill form, watched aghast from the sidelines. What was I? The doctors and surgeons assured me I was a girl, that I just wasn't yet "finished." I don't think they gave a thought to what that statement would mean to me and my developing gender identity, my developing sense of self. |
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I grew into a rough-and-tumble tomboy, a precocious, insecure, tree-climbing, dress-hating show-off with a Prince Valiant haircut and razor-sharp wit who was constantly being called mature pussy fucking "little boy" and "young man." I never gave a thought to what went through my mother's heart and mind every time this happened, this common misperception-that-wasn't. What did she see every mature pussy fucking time she looked at me? Did she watch my entire childhood, every developmental milestone, every triumph, every tear, through a darkening lens of mature pussy fucking gender? I imagine memories of me, all those special Kodak moments, all captured in my mother's mind in eerie photonegative. I don't know how my father felt or feels about it; he has never spoken about it except to reinterpret my mother's feelings. Judy at 13 years, with her father I quickly came to understand that that tomboy -- the gender identity with which I had escaped childhood -- was less acceptable in adolescence. |
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