Shame, part 1

[Priestess]

When I was born ...
Dr F (who delivered me), made his best guess of what I should be, then told my parents. My mother did not react well, and she was kept at the hospital for a week, with sedatives. My father left the hospital immediately and could not be contacted. Dr F also chose a name for me, because no one else would. And I was sent home in the care of my grandparents.

When I was 3 years old ...
My parents were still doing as they'd been told, and surgery in Maryland made Dr F's decision a reality. Or rather, an illusion of a reality. They couldn't put in any of the missing bits, and they didn't take out any of the organs which shouldn't belong in me if the illusion was real.

When I was 6 years old ...
I was a very maladjusted child, and this was obvious to everyone except me. My parents felt guilt and remorse over their earlier decision. So they sent me to a psychologist, who asked questions about sex and gender and my needs. And I didn't understand the questions or their relevance to me, and my responses might be summarized as "huh?" and "I don't know". His suggested course of action was to not reverse my given sex because I wasn't actually saying I was (or should be) a motos, regardless of how badly I was doing. And that if I was physically larger etc I might grow out of it.

Which led to 7 years old ...
And my being given pills which made me grow prematurely. But all they did was make me taller, not stronger, not normally aggressive or any less maladjusted. And it was then that my loss of energy and the pain in my pelvis first began, if I tried to be physically active. And it was then that my father abandoned me in favor of spending his spare hours in quality time with my brother. Over the years since then, he told me many times that I wasn't his (child of specific gender Z) and in fact told me this on his deathbed as well. I never understood, and thought that he was ceremonially disowning me. The wound became deeper for all the times he would casually insult me in front of mixed company. I had no idea of what I'd ever done wrong, I'd always tried so very hard to please them, to please the world. My mother didn't take up the slack in my upbringing. She was often busy doing housewife things and having migraines.

As a child I had no concept of gender whatsoever, and no real sense of myself beyond trying to please my parents. By repeating whatever they told me and trying to be as obedient as possible. Failure to do so always resulted in severe corporal punishment. Sometimes I got hurt anyways, if my father was in a bad mood. I usually tried to not be around either of them.

(to be continued)