The name’s Henry. I was an up-and-coming skateboarder. A prodigy, if you will. I know that sounds pretentious, but I really think I was on the cusp of greatness. I had a chance to be one of the greats. A real legend...
...until I fell and landed on my crotch. 
Yeah, you’re probably laughing right now, aren’t you? We’ve all seen those videos on YouTube where some poor dude is trying to do a rail trick, only to slip up and land on his nuts. Hell, I’ve been that poor dude more than once. 
But this time, it was different. Maybe it was the angle of the rail or just dumb luck, but somehow my nutsack ended up pinched between the rail and my board. I’d never felt pain like that before. I couldn’t even scream. I just dropped my board and clutched my scrotum. My buddies called an ambulance, but the damage was already done by the time I got to the hospital. The doctors had to remove my testicles, seeing as how they were already crushed beyond repair.
The physical recovery time was only a couple of days. I guess the body has ways of dealing with trauma like that. But the mental recovery? God, that was a bitch. Guess what happens when you lose your supply of testosterone? Mood swings, loss of muscle mass, and the big one: boobs.
Yeah, that’s right. Basically, estrogen marches in and takes over. And with no testicles in the way, there’s absolutely nothing stopping its advance.
It started out slowly. My hips started to widen, my muscles softened, and my ass got bigger. The first time I noticed it was a few weeks after the accident. I was back at the local skate park, trying to pick up the pieces of my life, and there was this mirror in the locker room. I glanced at it and freaked out.
After that, it was a long, slow slide down into womanhood. It wasn’t a straight line, and a few times, it looked like the changes had stopped. But no, it was always a brief reprieve before things worsened.
Now you’re asking why I didn’t go to the doctor, start taking testosterone, that kind of thing. Because I live in the United States, man. You think they cover that kind of thing? Not with my insurance, at least.
So, yeah, I began to accept that I was gonna look like a chick for the rest of my life. That was a hard pill to swallow, but I eventually got used to the idea. Hell, I even went back to skating. I’m still getting used to my new center of gravity, but I guess I look pretty good out there. At least, that’s what the other skaters seem to think from the way they stare.
Do I still wish I could stay a dude? Of course. Do I hate being a chick? Honestly, not as much as I thought I would. I mean, boobs are amazing, and I kind of like having long hair to style and all that. Plus, I still have my dick, so I could still bang chicks if I wanted. And there’s a lot of girls into other girls now, you know?
Maybe I could still turn back if I wanted to. But without insurance, I’d be looking at some hefty payments to get myself back to normal. And I’m not sure if that’s worth it. Besides, don’t you think I look pretty sexy in this dress? It’d be a shame to deprive the world of my hotness, you know?