Father seems really upset with me. But it's not my fault. Evidently it is some kind of virus. It doesn't help that it's so rare. After a massive amount of tests the doctor's say there is no evidence I was ever male before.
I don't even know how to feel. I grew up with so many rules. My church doesn't even allow dancing close. I barely even kissed a girl. And now I am one. Mine are the first breasts I ever touched. My dad expected me to follow in his footsteps and become a preacher and now. . . Now I'm a woman and can't. The tension is so thick I spend most of the time in my room now. Or in the bath.
I don't know how to balance my feelings. I walk around the house on eggshells, but when I'm alone with my body I feel so at home it scares me. Dad did say last Sunday that women were the weaker sex. Maybe I agree with him. Since I've been one I can't stop touching myself. And worse, I feel nothing wrong with it. My pussy feels like paradise.
In fact it feels right.
I think about the Garden. Adam being put to sleep and his rib being taken. To make a woman. To make a creature just like me. I think about opening my eyes and wandering through Paradise in my new body. Completely naked and unashamed. Inadvertantly my hands slip lower down my body. Why was woman made? So man wouldn't be alone. I think about the implications of my purpose. Of rounding a corner and meeting Adam for the first time. In Paradise was there marriage? Did Adam get on his knee and propose. Or was he rougher. Did he take Eve and have his way with her? My fingers consider these thoughts.
I go to church in the cotton summer dresses my mother bought for me. I catch the men glancing, ready to find in their eyes disdain. But instead I find something more sinister. Longing. Lust. I used to beat myself up over such thoughts - but I find that many do not have the self-control I once had. Rather than upsetting, the attention makes me wet in the way only a female can be. Especially when I catch my friend Mark looking.
The other night I had a dream. I was in the garden. I was Eve. I rounded the corner. And Mark was waiting for me. Naked. And hard. I grew wet. The words of Solomon echoed in my head.
Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest is my beloved among the young men. I delight to sit in his shade, and his fruit is sweet to my taste. Let him lead me to the banquet hall.
Without reservation I fell to my hands and knees and crawled to him. Then took his fruit into my mouth. His moans let me know he was pleased with his natural companion. I woke up in a cataclysm of shaking from the things he did to me.
don't know how to handle these new thoughts. I try not to touch myself. But I am failing. How can my environment explain my change? The things my body needs. I'm beginning to wonder if anything makes sense. I'm beginning to long for paradise. I find this all so perplexing.
