Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Jesus made me, so he can save me...

I love my mother to pieces, of course. One of the things I remember from childhood was being the subject of a lot of testing. My mom was going through a master's program in education and it seemed that every time there was a new test, I was volunteered to take it. I didn't have a problem with it, time with mom was pretty scarce when I was a wee one, so I was happy to help out.

But I remember being seven or eight and having Mum tell me I used both sides of my brain. I didn't know what to think at the time. I had sort of expected everyone to use all their brain.

Several years later she mentioned something about having miscarriages and taking hormones to prevent it when I was in-uteri.

And then there's all the times my older sister told me that I was a perfectly behaved baby, not at all like the other boy babies she knew.

Topping it all off was a recent time when, after telling a friend from out of town how to get to my house, he said, "Jesus. You give directions like a woman." I gasped publicly, of course, but giggled to myself inside.

So recent research seems to validate the idea that my DES-addled brain is, in fact, a bit femme. (DES sons show changes in brain function - diethylstilbestrol - prenatal exposure to sex hormones may affect brain development.)

I guess that explains the female gender identity, desire to be a cheer-leader in high-school, affinity for ballet flats and the love I have for my mini-van.

But seriously, I struggled a long time with the "why did Jesus make me this way?" question. It took me a while to realize that it doesn't matter. Whether it's a brain feminizing synthetic hormone, government conspiracy or alien experimentation with our precious bodily fluids, I am the way I am.

The question of, "what made me this way" is of academic interest at this point. It's interesting, but largely irrelevant to the practicalities of my life. And before some of you out there start talking about how studies like this prove that my sisters and I are "damaged," let me just say this. Jesus made me the way I am. God came down and blew breath into my soul. As it turns out, it's a girl's soul in a boy's body, but what? you want to argue with the big-guy?

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