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Girls never lie boys never tell the truth.

Michelle, thank you for sharing more of your story. Your awareness is sharp, and your instinct to protect others, like your sister, is incredibly compassionate, even when you’re carrying so much yourself. You’re right about projection—people often accuse others of exactly what they can’t face in themselves. It’s confusing and cruel, especially when it starts young. But you’re seeing it now, and that kind of clarity gives you power. Keep writing. You are not alone.
 
There once was a time when I used to believe everything my dad told me. I was the evil one, I was the black sheep of the family. I was trying to kill my own sister. Such was the case when my dad explained to me how I used reverse psychology to make my sister grab the electric fence. (Now I see what I did, The talk about fencing brought up my experience with a fence.)
What is the evidence? She screamed and said I made her touch the fence. Defense is gagged, not allowed. Guilty of attempted murder.
Revisit the scene of the crime. It is a single wire gate that hooks to the main fence using a hook with an insulating handle. The gate is open being unhooked and laying on the ground.
My sister is about to grab the wire when I warn her about it being electric and would hurt her.

New evidence: It is not connected to the main fence and is only electric when connected to the main fence. The main fence is connected through an overhead wire that goes to the barn and is connected to the fencer.
Nobody saw her touch the fence, and it appears that at the time that section was not electric.

Suppose somebody grabs the electric fence, and nobody helps them.
I used to go out behind the buildings to play in the old cars after school. Like many time before, I grabbed the wire to move it, only to find it was now electric and I could not open my hand. Looking across the meadow, I could see my dad tilling the field. I watch as he went back and forth, disappearing over the hill and then reappearing. There was no indication that he had seen me, and I was left to figure out how to get my hand free. Using my other hand, I opened the hand around the wire.

It might have been days later when I heard my dad tell his buddies how hilarious it was to see me stuck on the electric fence. I now wonder if I had walked into his trap and got electrocuted. And how am I affected by having that electricity flowing through for something like 45 minutes. Is that the cause on my heart hiccups.
Michelle

It was non-lethal, But I was a child.
 
It seems something was wrong about the electric fence story. The key is a newer electric fence controller would not act like that, and that makes the story unbelievable. However this was back in the 1950s, and the fence controller possible was not UL approved.

It was a International Electric, model 106, matching up what I remember it looked like to find a photo to identify. Unlike the modern versions, this one had a bi metallic strip that heated to open the circuit, resulting in a longer power pulse. I used the fingers of my other hand to pry open the hand that was wrapped around the wire.

When my dad came running because of her scream, her hand was not wrapped around the wire. Don't get mad, get even. A fence was that was not electric before was now electric. This is the punishment I get for making my sister touch the electric fence.
His statement about how funny it was to see me stuck on the fence, shows that not only did he know that I had grabbed the fence, he was not about to help me in any way.

Somebody told my dad about the psychological "fact" that the older child will be jealous of the younger child, but there was no mention about the difference in our ages changing that into being a protector. Every lie she told was only more proof that I was the bad one, and she was the angel.
Today I read something she posted on Facebook, When people do bad things to you, it is a learning experience.
Should I just forgive and forget, even when there has never been any apology. From what somebody else has told me, She is proud of what she did to me.
 
Did I ever mention that I have been in and out of therapy since the early 1980s. I even learned to write a journal. My mother found my journals while I was working and made notations in them. Statements such as this is false. I even un-found pages that went missing from my journals. Needless to say, I stopped writing in my journals.

My dad died on mother's day in 1979. He went on a trip in a boat on the river and never returned. His official date of death is 13 days later after his body was found.
My mother died in 2021 at the age of 91. She was stubborn and lived to the same age as her mother.

I have a lot of symptoms for Klinefelter syndrome, including autism and ADHD. So I guess I am an intersex individual, with what appears to be a scar between my legs. My birth certificate says male and I got yelled at for entering a men's rest room. None of this has been diagnosed, but for a male to be mistaken for a female, says a lot. I have not had any surgeries to change my appearance. From what I understand, the Klinefelter syndrome has my body converting testosterone to estrogen causing breast growth, and reducing the amount of testosterone to point of testosterone deficiency, resulting in erectile dysfunction.
It comes to a point where I am a woman in the men's restroom, perceived to be a female to male transgender. The janitor told me I should use the family restroom. I had vision problems prior to cataract surgery, and trying to see the gender sign by the door, I got pointed to the Women's restroom.
 
There's such bravery in your story. I hope you are finding relief from sharing as you try to piece things together. No one deserves to suffer.
 
I'm 5 feet 9. 5 inches, the average for Klinefelter syndrome is 6 ft or more. Doing more research I find the height does not mater as much as the ratio of leg length to torso length. Also learning that the ratio is there prior to puberty, not something that happens during puberty. My wingspan, finger tip to fingertip with arms outstretched is 6 feet 1 inch. Another indicator for Klinefelter syndrome.

About 20 years ago I went to a doctor for unary problems. While I was there I asked for a thyroid and testosterone test. Both came back normal. Since both were normal, nothing was discussed about them. At 375 testosterone, I noted it to be low normal, being in the lower half of the scale. At that time the bottom of the scale was 200, now it is 300. The reason I asked for the testosterone test was due to my erectile dysfunction. Now I finally find out that Low testosterone levels for Klinefelter syndrome includes the lower half of the testosterone scale. Just last year, I had another testosterone test done through on demand testing (walk in). The level was 379. The erectile dysfunction and low testosterone are both flags for Klinefelter syndrome.

I haven't found the hip to shoulder ratio yet, but I assume it is in the range for Klinefelter syndrome. Trying to live as a male, I have gotten a lot of misgendering, A lot of "I thought you were a girl." I wonder how many times I have been mistaken for a female to male transgender. I also wonder how many times I have been discriminated against in job hunting, because I looked too much like a female.
It states male on my birth certificate. I am now a male to female transgender. The last time I used a men's restroom, at got mistaken for a woman entering the men's room. So much for the people that say they spot a man who is transgender entering the women's restroom. Since then I have transitioned to living as a female. With a pair of feminine glasses, I don't even get a second glance, compared to the stares I got from little girls, when I had a scrawny beard. I may have been beaten up in the boys bathroom in grade school, I remember being spun around while using the urinal, but nothing after that. I'm sure I peed on his leg when he spun me around. Since all the teachers were female in grade school, there was no chance one would enter. And he was the son of a teacher. This had led to a high anxiety using the men's restroom. Being able to urinate only when I was the only one in the restroom. Most of the anxiety is gone when using the women's restroom.

Forgive the too much information, blame it on my autism (Another flag for Klinefelter syndrome). I was a late developer, delayed speech and such.

I have a bit of gynecomastia, otherwise called breasts, so even trying to live as a male I had my bra. I have seen the news reports when they came out with the man bra. Mine is from the women's department in Walmart. I even played around with bras as a teenager. I have the feminine shape, so the women's bra fit properly. In fact all women's clothes the proper size fit properly. So, when I enter the women's restroom, I am dressed as a woman. That includes the shoes. When I started wearing women's shoes, my foot pain went away. That made me wonder about the differences between men's feet and women's feet. Can you actually tell by looking at the feet if it's a woman or a man?

Going down the checklist for Klinefelter syndrome, I check off most of them. I have never been diagnosed with Klinefelter syndrome. I think most of the doctors I have seen in my live, don't even know there is such a thing as Klinefelter syndrome.
It appears the forum for Klinefelter syndrome is patrolled by self proclaimed gatekeepers. Unless you have a diagnosis, you don't belong. You can't even claim to have Klinefelter syndrome unless you have a diagnosis.
Michelle
 
Doing some thinking. About cholesterol, wondering how low it could go. My doctor wants me to be on a statin, and has not mentioned the side effects.

First, my total cholesterol is in the normal range under 200 mg/dl. My HDL is about 47 mg/dl, making my LDL 136 mg/dl. Triglycerides and glucose are in the normal range. To my chart has been added that I have a genetic problem causing the high cholesterol. I guess that means that I have no choice other than going onto a statin. The information I have found is that my cholesterol is slightly high and no statin is required. There is a possibility that due to actively loosing weight, my cholesterol has risen.
my research has indicated that cholesterol can be converted to testosterone, so the effect might lower the testosterone even more. My testosterone was at 379 when last checked, but it is considered normal.

On Friday, July 11, 2025, I was in the hospital having a bladder stone removed. The photo of the stone shows it to be a sphere to be 6cms or 2.36 inches in diameter. The stone was irritating my bladder, which in turn irritated my prostate, giving me a high PSA. I'm hoping now my PSA will become normal. The stone was discovered on a prostate MRI last year.
Michelle
 
Thinking about some things, like as a child I had been given lit matches. wondering if that was my dad's attempt to teach me about fire. The matches would always go out before my fingers got burned. I'm now wondering if he actually held my hand and used a match to burn my fingers to teach me about fire.
The other one my mother told me about, was him putting a pencil into my hand, forcing me to write on the wall and then slapping my fingers. I wonder which hand he put the pencil in. Never mind that for the moment, as I suspect it was the right hand. At the age I would have been, would I have understood that it was writing on the wall. Or mistaken for having the pencil in the right hand, inadvertently making me left handed. At any rate, he was the first to slap my hand for writing.
Michelle


Edit: Now thinking about this, my sister would have heard about it. And since I had already been punished for writing on the wall, she could write on the wall and blame me, sit back and grin as I got yelled at for writing on the wall.
 
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At the moment, I'm recovering from a severe cold. My lungs hurt when I cough. I still do not have a asthma diagnosis, so I have no asthma medication. I have spent the last couple of days pretty much sleeping.

As for genetics, I would think it would be obvious. My birth certificate states male, but I look female, complete with breasts. I have the wide hips and narrow shoulders. I even got yelled at once for entering the wrong restroom when I was going into the men's restroom.
The strangest thing is whether it was a man's shirt or a woman's shirt, the sleeves were too short. Then I find out my arms are too long.
As a transgender person I have an advantage that I already look like a woman. I pass as a woman without taking the female hormones.
I'm just like you. It used to say male on my birth certificate, but I look exactly like a cis-female. The only difference is that I DID take puberty blockers when I was 10 & female hormones when I was 11. It only made me look like a girl even more; which, made my dad & brothers happy because they wanted a girl in the house since my mom died when I was 5. I was told by them that since I looked like, & moreso WANTED to be a girl, I had to do everything girls do, which led to them SA me starting when I was 9; but, I actually like the SA because they're loving & caring when they're around me. They told me they were helping me become more of a girl because they said when they came in me, it caused my body to naturally produce estrogen to counteract the testosterone they were pumping inside me. I became hypersexual after they began to SA me, & when I was 11, I started getting on grindr as an 18yo transgirl. As soon as I met these men from online, they immediately knew I wasn't 18, but 95% of them didn't care, & f*cked me anyway. As soon as I turned 18 last year, I got sexual reassignment surgery, changed my birth certificate, & got a new drivers license. The issue I'm having is telling men that I used to be male. I don't tell them actually. I let them believe I've always been a girl. My surgeon did such a great job, that even women who see my new vagina think that I've always had it. I don't have any issue with telling men that I have sex with my dad & brothers, but I can't tell them I used to be a boy. No, I don't have any issue with doing it with my dad & brothers, it's actually very nice. that's not the issue here. The issue is why am I reluctant to tell guys that I'm not a cis-girl, & am actually trans?
 
I just watched a video about the arrogance of a person whose parents hold power. I can't really say what the boy felt, but the idea is there that he would not be held accountable for what he did to me since his mother was a teacher. I don't remember what all happened in the boy's restroom in grade school, I do remember being spun around while using the urinal, afterwards is speculation, including peeing on the boy's pants. Even though the incident had been forgotten, I was left with a dread of using the public restrooms, at times leaving the restroom without being able to pee.

Another incident involved the theft of a watch during a physical education class while in high school. After the class I along with the other boys were lined up against the gym wall. We were to empty our pockets placing everything on the gym floor. We were all searched except for the boy who lost his watch. The watch was not found and again a remark that nobody leaves until the watch is returned. The boy that lost his watch finally found it, in his own pocket. I wonder if, had he not been the son of a teacher, he would have been told, tough luck.
 
Sometimes things get buried in my mind, and a scene of a movie will bring it to the surface. Such might have been the case of watching a movie where the person in power pees on the leg of somebody. Might be the same as a dog marking his territory. As I still don't remember what happened after he spun me around, I will speculate that it would have looked like he peed his pants.
Another speculation is that I was a boy that looked and acted like a girl, and he wanted to see if I really was a boy.

Another incident involved a hay fork, or pitch fork. My cousin has scars in her thighs as a result. Watching the Frankenstein movies with pitchforks would give me shivers. I think I freaked when in one of the Species movies, the pitch fork was jabbed into the persons leg.
After my cousin was injured, my dad came to me, told me to keep my mouth shut as he was tired of my lies. I got lectured about throwing a hay fork, and if it had been 2 inches higher she would have died. I would have been forced to admit to his truth of how it happened, and not allowed to say anything, I could not tell him that my sister had the fork in her hands when it happened. The worst part was that I also had marks on my legs from the hay fork.

I got blamed for a lot of things, including for someone getting their hand in a clothes wringer. First understand, there were clothes wringers that had hand cranks. So I got accused of being the most likely suspect of cranking the wringer with someone's fingers in it by my dad, who knew nothing about the facts. Of course, he is always right, by virtue of his badge and gun. He never did find out who it was, or at any rate I would be accused of lying. I'm sure that my carpel tunnel was caused by my hand going through the wringer. With no other visible damage, I would have been accused of lying to get out of doing my chores. Besides, my dad had claims of a hand injury, making it painful to use it.
The incident was forgotten until decades later I started getting nightmares after reading about someone putting their fingers in to a wringer. It seemed to go night after night with me turning a crank, watching fingers being crushed as I turned the crank. It got to a point where I was wondering if I really did that. I needed to apologize to my victim. Trying to figure out who it was, I realized it was my finders being smashed.

The odd thing is my paternal grandfather lost some fingers back in 1930s, and I heard no complaints from him as he dunked his donut with that hand. My dad complained about his own fingers being smashed putting the belt on a thrashing machine. I had to do the chores alone due to his hand pain.
 

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