Introducing Woussaa

This being my first post on a brand new, completely unknown blog, it is unlikely anyone will read this particular post, except the odd search engine bot perhaps, and that will only happen a few months from now.

I suppose I'd better introduce myself and get this over and done with while nobody is reading.

My name shall remain unknown, but call me Woussaa. I'm just an ordinary blogger. I was born male, but at age 13, upon entering puberty, I started feeling uncomfortable with my body. It was as if I was a girl trapped in boy's body. Every day was pure agony and, oh, how I longed to escape! Finally, on my 16th birthday, I flew to Thailand, and the next day had a sex-change operation.

The surgeons worked on me for hours, and the stitches took a long time to heal. But when the bandages were cut away, I knew that it had all been worth it - like a butterfly, I had been reborn.

I took on the name of Zoe, and started wearing hotpants, blouses with plunging necklines the better to show off my new 36D rack, and makeup.

After a few months, I realized I felt uncomfortable in my body. It dawned on me that, this time, I was a man trapped in a woman's body, so I flew back to Bangkok. The same surgical team operated on me again, and after a week I emerged from the hospital striding confidently with an extra-long "package" dangling between my legs.

It didn't take more than a few months for me to find out, however, that I was woman trapped in a man's body, and that a change was needed - this time I flew to Honduras, as the airline gave me a free flight thanks to all the frequent flyer miles I'd racked up.

And so it went. Now in my 30's, I've lost count of the operations I've had. Sometimes I forget my current gender and waver indecisively in front of restroom entrances. I'll plunge into the men's room - usually less crowded - and quickly step back when I get stared at. Or I'll sashay into the ladies' room, only to be met by screams and pepper spray.

People tell me that I should make my mind up. Friends of both genders - all of whom I've slept with at least twice - try to talk me out of the next operation. Even the surgeons aren't keen to whip out their scalpels any more - until, of course, I whip out my Platinum Visa.

And I agree. Frankly, I hate the food served at hospitals and the deteriorating quality of service these days. Moreover, it is no longer socially acceptable to keep increasing my carbon footprint by flying to Thailand, Honduras, Bulgaria, etc. So I will settle for a gender once and for all - chosen by the loyal readers of this blog, on a popular vote to be held on its first anniversary on July 1, 2009.

Meanwhile, if you'll excuse me, I have a boat to catch.