Part One - A beautiful baby is born

On August 14, 1961, two people began thier lives as parents to a lovely child with no name or no gender.
The father wanted his son, the mother wanted her daughter, god decided to give them both and here is my story.

A baby in the sixties with a gender problem did'nt exist (intersex), it was frowned upon so my father being the stronger of the two decided he had his son finally and he would be the only one in his family for a hundred generations to have a first born son.
My family tree shows all first born as females, isn't it ironic that I was brought up as a boy? From the time I was born till now, I was always feminine, the sissy in the family. There were hints, like when I was 14 and I was developing into a teen, the doctor that examined me said I was developing normally but my genitals were in fact the same, one ovary and one testes. I wouldn't look like my brothers when it came to puberty, the voice wouldn't develop and when my brothers grew hair on their faces or chest, that would never come for me. My parents divorced when I was 11, my father took me from my mother. Which I had ran away many times but stayed with her until I reached 16. I remember a time during grade school, a boy locked me in a locker laughing the whole time, my younger brother asked him to release me but when the boy refused, my brother knocked all his front teeth out with one punch and rescued me. It was always like that, I wasn’t much of a fighter or did I like to rough house. My girl friends would ask their parents if I could go to sleepovers, but that wouldn’t be since I was a boy to them, I would hang out at the mall and wish I could be just like them. Instead, I grew up to be a weak boy which would develop a bad attitude and be mean as hell towards everyone. I got caught wearing my step mom’s night dress when I was 12, which she had me parade to everyone for a day that I got caught (that was the best punishment I would ever have). I ran away when I was 13, sleeping in boxes and goodwill containers, stealing food to eat till I could find my true Mother. I would get closer to her which dad would bring me back and I would run away again. Now how many times does it take for him to understand I am not happy? I tried to commit suicide when I was 16, I failed in life as a girl and certainly as a boy, so I wanted what was right for me. Not to be ashamed of my body no longer, my emotional roller coaster would end, and I failed because I called an ambulance to pump my stomach and hear my father say "you can't even do that right!", Oh how I wished I was never born then. But my life was about to change.....