What are 'quite male characteristics'?
It's hard to discretely define a female gender identity in the way I experience it. It's like...a constellation of statistically linked elements that together describe something almost intangible and linguistically elusive, but which your brain is able to derive a coherent pattern and meaning from over time? I think most people don't really notice it because it never stands out and shows its discontinuities, but I'm definitely aware of mine in the same way that I'm aware when I'm hungry or unwell even if I would struggle to give an exact encapsulation of what it is.
I've always felt an incongruence with my genitalia. I've always felt like there was something back-to-front with my body in a way that's hard to describe. Every child in the family of my generation was female and I - the eldest of the bunch - kept feeling a fundamental sense of wrongness over how I didn't appear to be, at least externally. I desperately wanted to make my military family proud as the sole torch-carrying boy of the pack - the first thing I ever remember wanting to be was a soldier - but I remember when I heard that (back then) women weren't allowed to serve on the front lines, I got really deeply angry in a way that I couldn't really articulate. It somehow felt like I was being told I wasn't allowed, personally. That really did one over on me for a while. Of course with today's wisdom it makes perfect sense that any child would find that notion patently offensive, but this was the mid 80's and none of my siblings or cousins seemed to care or take it personally.
At school, it was fine at first - but as groups formed and things became increasingly silo'd and segregated, it was clear I was in the wrong 'team'. Nothing to do with pink toys and blue toys - hell, I LOVED my toy guns and grandad's old Brodie helmet and was endlessly enraptured with pew pew bang bang stories - but in terms of social dynamics. I couldn't stand the 'boy culture' of the time that would go on to become that tedious and nigh-ubiquitous 'lad culture' blight on the mid-late 90's and upward; the creative, thoughtful playground games I'd tried to cultivate and desperately hold on to were cast aside and replaced with football, football, football and an entire mindset and worldview that just felt alien to me. I got on well with a girl who I'd been sat next to in class and it felt, for the first time, like I'd found someone I saw eye to eye with. I grew my hair long - my mother didn't object and my father was working overseas, not that he'd have cared - and the first day a teacher 'mistook' me for a girl it was just...right? I got so angry that the rest of the class was in hysterics over it that I had my hair cut short - and realised immediately what a mistake that had been as I hated it.
As time passed, puberty loomed - at least, for my classmates. Mine was very sluggish, taking quite some time to arrive - which left me, while not especially short, quite soft in comparison to the lads in class. When it did finally start to take a grip, it was an almost complete non-event. It didn't make me feel insecure, though, as might have been expected.
Well, apart from in the abject hell that was sports lessons, where I can't find a better descriptor for the situation I found myself in outside of 'prey'. If lad culture had a telos, it would have been achieved in the misery of those changing rooms. I knew without even the faintest shred of uncertainty that I was most certainly not a boy by that point and something was very, very definitely and fundamentally wrong. I knew other people for whom the 'boy programming' had failed to take, but this was very clearly something different.