When I look back it's hard to say when I first noticed what was happening. After all, it was not some sudden and very obvious thing, it happened very gradually at first.

I think the first thing I noticed was that I was getting the beginnings of the dreaded "man boobs". For a very long time I was in denial of course, but eventually I reached a point where I could not avoid it.

But perhaps I need to begin by introducing myself. My name is Kelly - ironically, considering how things developed for me, a conveniently ambiguous name that can be either male or female. I have always been what most people would consider a very "average" guy. Average height, average build, not ugly but not exceptionally good looking. The sort of person movie directors love as an extra in crowd scenes because they look so NORMAL, and don't distract from the stars where the focus is meant to be. I've never been a super "macho" type, but at the same time I've done most of the stereotypically masculine things and enjoyed the stereotypical male interests. I've enjoyed a bit of sport, played a bit of football and basketball but was not mad on them. During school I had been a competitive swimmer and although I no longer swam competitively it was still my preferred form of exercise. I had spent some time in the army just out of school and enjoyed that but was never a gung ho warrior.

I was married for seven years, divorced three years ago (thankfully no kids so avoided that complication in life) The divorce had been exceptionally bitter. I won’t pretend I didn’t contribute my fair share to the breakdown, but I had no contact with my ex anymore and she had managed to convince most of our mutual friends to take her side, so since then my social circle had been virtually nonexistent. My family background in childhood had been difficult, so I did not keep in contact with any relatives. Emotionally bruised after the divorce, I had largely kept to myself since then. I would have described myself as very happily hetero but (so I was once told by a gay friend) "sensitive" enough that people might wonder about my orientation - gotta love those sort of stereotypes eh?

I'm now in my early forties, single, try to keep myself moderately fit but can be a bit hit or miss about that. It was the last part that possibly initially threw me about my "man boobs" - when I first started to be aware I thought, "damn, I've been letting myself go more than I thought". Not a problem, just start eating better and do some more exercise, right?

I started going to the local recreational centre a few times a week. I've always loved swimming, so two to three days a week I would swim laps in the pool, usually about 20-30 laps, and at least one day a week I'd hit the gym for a mixture of cardio and weights. I figured cardio would be effective for burning fat, and a bit of weight work should help build some muscle definition.

A month or so later I was actually starting to look better than I had for quite a while - I had slimmed down and toned up with the more healthy activities. For the first time in quite a while I had a flat stomach, rather than the slight bulge I had allowed to develop for the last few years, and the muscle tone in my arms and legs was looking really good in the lean way of swimmers rather than body builder bulges. But if anything, my chest was getting a bit bigger, and not in a “check out how my pects are developing” way. Don't get me wrong, Dolly Parton had no reason to fear competition from me, but it was enough to make me very self-conscious about how I looked when wearing a t-shirt, and I was no longer comfortable letting anyone see me with my shirt off. I stopped going to swim for my fitness routine, and instead bought some exercise equipment so that I could work out at home instead.

It was about then I started noticing some other changes too. I found my nipples were starting to be more sensitive than they had ever been before. Sometimes the sensitivity when I touched them was not necessarily unpleasant, in fact on a few occasions I discovered I was getting an erection just from the fabric of my shirt brushing across them, but I certainly was finding it a bit unsettling. It also seemed that my areolas were larger, darker, and sticking out slightly, and my nipples were definitely more prominent.

I also noticed I seemed to have less body hair. Now I've never been a wolfman, but I've always had the "average" (that word again) hair on arms legs and chest that most guys have (well, unless you count the "metrosexual" types who go for the smooth look, but I've always been strictly au naturel in that department). And although I was still shaving every day, there did not seem to be as much stubble by the next morning. I eventually reached the point that I had virtually no visible hair on my body, arms or legs, and not long after that I no longer had any need to shave my face.

It was about the same time that my body hair was diminishing that I think I first began to suspect another change. I say "I think" because I was totally in denial over something so impossible. Things seemed to be getting smaller downstairs, if you follow my drift. You know what it's like when you've been swimming and get out of cold water, everything is pulled in close to the body. But now it seemed like that all the time, no matter what the temperature was. This was all starting to get totally weird, but I still kept trying to explain it away.

Like I said I was single, but that doesn't mean I was a monk. Since my divorce I didn't have a regular girlfriend, but I had been on a few dates, and every now and then, well, you know, one thing can lead to another. Now, however, I was starting to get self-conscious about my appearance. I mean, I've never been, and never wanted to be, "hung like a horse" - John Holmes is welcome to that title. But no guy likes to think, or admit, he is SMALLER than average - and now I was getting to where I could not avoid that fact. In addition, now I was finding my clothes were not fitting as well as they used to. Most of my trousers seemed tight around the hips and looser at the waist, and my shirts were getting tight across the chest.

I'm sure most people reading this are starting to see a thread developing. Deep down I think I was seeing the same things, but my rational mind was discarding that as impossible and trying to find some other explanation. After all, it's impossible for a man to spontaneously change into a woman, right?

The one part that is burned into my memory, the turning point where I could no longer be in denial or rationalise what was happening, was the morning I woke up to nature's call, and after having a piss discovered - they were gone! The skin of my scrotum was hanging slightly loose and drawn up close to my perinium, and I could feel nothing inside. Now I know it is possible for testicles to be internal, I remember years ago reading that apparently sumo wrestlers would massage them inside before a fight to be less vulnerable to injury. But I have never heard of them withdrawing without any outside influence.

Okay, I can't let this mystery keep on developing, I have to find out what is happening to me. The trouble is, I didn't even know where to start. I mean, what type of doctor deals with such a situation? I didn't even know what I could tell the doctor to explain what was happening, or what I was starting to suspect. However, I knew now that I had no choice.

It was a couple of months later, and all sorts of tests, and meeting with so many different medical people before anyone was prepared to offer an explanation. By this time I knew I was a very special case - no ordinary doctor was involved, I had become a special research project in the university genetic medicine laboratory. In the meantime, the changes I had noticed before had become unmistakeable - I was becoming female. It seems so easy to say that now, but the first time I openly acknowledged it to myself I wasn't sure whether to laugh with relief at finally having an explanation, or to scream with frustration at this unexpected and unwanted change.

The professors had to come up with a new name for my condition - all of a sudden I had gone from being "average" to being "unique". I never could remember it properly, but it was something like "Involuntary spontaneous genetic gender realignment". Let's face it, I haven't really studied science, and particularly biological science, since high school. I mean, I have two university degrees, but computing science and management qualifications never prepared me with the hard-core science knowledge to understand all of what the researchers would explain to me. One of the first things they discovered, with blood tests and later more comprehensive DNA tests, was that at a chromosonal level my body was about a 50/50 mix of male and female hormones and chromosones.

Now don't get me wrong - I don't have any problem with people being transgender. I understand the concept of gender dysphoria, and I know that it must be a huge burden to feel trapped in a body that does not reflect the gender you feel you truly are. However, I have always been content with being male. I'm sure most people have some level of curiosity, at least sometime in their life, about what it would be like to be the other gender, and I know I had on occasion thought along those lines myself. However, for me that curiosity was pretty much that it would have been interesting to experience being a woman for a while, but have the option to return to being "me".

So, where was I by the time I had a label for what was happening? In appearance I looked almost totally female. I had breasts, my testicles had disappeared, my scrotum and penis had shrunk to virtually nothing. There were also more subtle changes. My body proportions were redistributed, and I was more "padded" across my rear and hips. The pitch of my voice was noticeably higher and my Adam's apple had disappeared. My skin seemed softer and more smooth, and of course almost all body and facial hair was gone. Although it was hard to define, even my facial contours seemed somehow softer and more feminine - I had never really thought of myself as being androgynous in my facial appearance, but one day looking at myself in the mirror after a shower I realised that my face still looked no different, and yet with bare and noticeable breasts I looked very much like a woman, rather than a man with boobs. And those mounds on my chest were definitely womanly breasts, not "man boobs".

I avoided going out in public - I could not bring myself to dress in women's clothing, but virtually none of my old clothes fit properly anymore unless they were very baggy. Fortunately since I work remotely I could avoid interacting with people in the workplace, and with online shopping for essential supplies I was able to survive without venturing past my front door as I came to terms with what was happening to me.