So, living in a body of the opposite sex with all the existing feelings of the current gender? That'd be interesting, no doubt, or— who knows what it may entail.
But if you are asking to be reincarnated in the body of a female, given that I am a mid-aged male, oh boy— you are asking too much. And I am sure anybody here wouldn't want to be in the body of a woman, if he has been attached to any for a substantial time, not just in good times for a quickie but as a partner of a lifetime.
Having been married to her for over a decade, yes that's right — it's been 10 years and a few months; I have the privilege to explore every inch, every moment— every day, all day. And I am always fearful of the clothes she has to wear no matter whether it's winter, summer, or whatever, you name it. I usually don't wear anything but shorts and sometimes a t-shirt during summer when I am at home or even outside. Still, I sweat like a pig all while the ceiling fan is at full speed overhead. But she? She is wearing this and that no matter the heat, no matter how much she is sweating at the kitchen or say, having a break. This, you can say, is my biggest fear of being in the body of a woman— and it's legit.
I have other issues too that are mostly physiological and I can say only a handful of us know how it feels at that particular time— be it during pregnancy, menstruation, or even, well, during intercourse. Sometimes I wonder what they are made of that enables them to be so tolerant of that beasty thrust or you know. And that creepy feeling when the baby moves in the womb during pregnancy, man— I just can’t imagine what that’d be like if it happens to me, jeez!
And that’s not all— I am damn sure I won’t survive a minute people staring at me, galloping me top to bottom with their eyes, strange eyes. On top of that, do you think it’s fun to be touched by unwanted hands while moving from one place to another by public bus— no way I want to swap my gender. Forget everything, don’t you think the crude smile of the undergarments salesman is enough to feel crushed inside?
Walking at night all alone won’t ever be possible, you know that, right? So, swapping my gender means sacrificing those precious moments of life— walking under the starry night and enjoying the gentle breeze amidst crickets screaming out loud. Or that dew-dipped grass before the first light of the morning and wild foxes retreat to their hideout after a long night of searching for prey — so many elements of life will be lost if I am not who I am.
However, women are amazing and special creations of the almighty. Still, I don't want to be any of them— I just wouldn't be fit, probably freak out as soon as I am swapped, or die out of a panic attack. I wonder how they are surviving in this harsh world and smiling even after the odds. Salute to them.
But again, keep the gender swap for you, I am happy with my phallus— no offense.