Natalie Kirk, 23, Warilla, NSW
You know when you have a niggling feeling that you just can't shake? Something's not quite right, but you can't put your finger on it.
That's how I'd felt for as long as I could remember. Natalie, you're different, I thought. But I could never work out why.
The other kids sensed it too.
'Look at Natalie No Friends,' the bullies at primary school would taunt. The hurtful truth stung. I was Natalie No Friends. Nobody wanted to hang out with me. 'She's always been a quiet one,' I'd hear my worried mum, Faye, telling Dad. 'I hope she makes friends in high school.'
Sobbing in my bedroom, I'd mentally run through things that might be wrong with me. But I wasn't ugly or spotty or fat. I was from a nice family and my older sister, Allyson, now 24, was popular. I wasn't a girly girl but tomboys could be cool, couldn't they?
Then in high school, I met Ellie* and Clare* and for the first time was accepted into a group. 'Maths was so fun today,' I'd chatter to Mum. She'd smile, relieved I was happy.
But as I grew up there was still one group I seemed forever locked out of. Puberty.
'I started my period last night,' I'd hear girls confiding. Changing for PE, I noticed some of them were wearing bras. At 16 I was a bit overweight, so I wore a supportive crop top but I wondered when my boobs would grow and when my periods would start.
'I had my periods early and Allyson's started at nine,' Mum frowned. I didn't really mind. 'Sounds like a hassle,' I replied.
But having not started puberty, my body was still shapeless, with no womanly curves or bumps. Mum took me to a gynaecologist who said inducing puberty with hormones was a possibility.
'But I think you're just a late starter. We should let nature take its course,' she said.
Back home, things were fine but my niggling feeling continued. What's wrong with me? I wondered when all my friends got interested in boys. The idea of sex seemed alien to me.
To fit in, I dated one guy but it only lasted weeks. Our first kiss felt forced and far from the excitement my friends described. I'm not ready, I decided.
But three years later, at 19, I still didn't feel ready and, despite losing weight, my body remained shapeless and my periods were non-existent.
By now the niggling had reached fever pitch and in an attempt to silence my worries I turned to the internet. Typing No puberty into a health website, I started drawing up a list of possibilities. Perhaps I have polycystic ovaries, I mulled. But reading on, there seemed a more fitting condition.iI thought.
Reading about a condition called Swyer syndrome, I found I could relate to it. The website explained how you could be born with XY chromosomes, the usual genetic make-up for a male. But if the Y bit, the male chromosome, was defective, then testes didn't form properly. Instead you developed female anatomy - but without ovaries.
It explained not having periods. But it would also mean I was part boy, part girl. How could I possibly get my head around something so huge?
It would mean I couldn't have babies, I realised.
Amazingly, the thought didn't shock me. After not having periods I was prepared for that possibility. But there were other more puzzling issues. Thinking about my half-male part, I wondered if I got a boyfriend, would I be straight or gay?
Maybe it didn't matter. I still wasn't interested in boys or girls and wasn't planning on having sex with anyone. As time went on I slowly started accepting I might have Swyers.
Then at 20, I plucked up the courage to see a doctor. I was ready for what she might say. 'I'll give you a chromosome test and an ultrasound,' she breezed, taking a blood sample. 'It'll rule out some things.'
Mum nodded, unworried. But I knew what they'd find. Days later, as the doctor reviewed my results, her face froze.
'You have an X and a Y chromosome,' she spluttered. Then, looking at the ultrasound, she added, 'And you don't have ovaries.' Mum's mouth gaped as she went on. 'I think you have a type of hypogonadism. It means the gonads, which are the ovaries in women or testes in boys, aren't present. They're what kick-start puberty.'
'What can you do?' Mum asked, shocked. 'We'll put Natalie on oestrogen hormones to start puberty. It'll help her develop breasts and a female shape, but unfortunately, she'll never have children.'
I took in how I was a girl on the outside but a mix on the inside. It was a weird but calming feeling. My niggles had been silenced. I knew what I had. 'Are you okay?' Mum asked. 'Yes,' I nodded truthfully.
That night I talked it over with my dad John and Allyson. 'If you're okay with it, we are,' Allyson said, hugging me.
That week I got the oestrogen tablets but before they started working Allyson and I planned a long trip overseas.
'I'd recommend you come off them until you're back,' the doctor said. 'I'd like to be able to monitor you properly.'
Now, three years after my diagnosis, I'm ready to start taking the oestrogen again and begin puberty. I'll also need an operation to remove my shrivelled gonads as there's a risk of cancer developing on them.
I'm lucky though. I've read online about people who have my condition but feel they're a boy trapped in a female body.
'I've always felt like a girl, just a different type of girl,' I explained to Allyson. 'I've accepted my body and who I am.'
'Good on you,' she smiled, supportive as ever. We live together and she's been brilliant. I can talk to her about anything which is good as I don't tell friends or colleagues. I figure it's not relevant.
What's made me speak out now is the story in the news about the South African runner, Caster Semenya. When officials recently discovered she had XY chromosomes there was an outcry that she was competing against women. People have laughed and sneered, thinking she's some kind of freak.
It makes my blood boil. It wasn't her choice to be born like that and it's so unfair to treat her badly because of it.
I've had my fill of bullies over the years and feel good that at last I can stand up to them.
Right now I don't know what my future will hold. I'm still not interested in sex and feel happy by myself, especially after setting up my own web-design business.
My next hurdle is to get through puberty at 23, which could be a challenge! But I know I can deal with whatever life throws at me. I've been through more than the average 23 year old and am proud of how I've come out the other side.
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