Psh, MEN!

I have issues (there's that word again!) with GENDER IDENTITIES. Mark the phrase for me, mark it please.
I could spend a long time exploring the Why, going into how my father was the primary parent for me, working from home whilst my mother ran her business, talking about my mother's love of sport and my father's hatred of it, but I won't. I'll simply list the main factors: I'm female, and always identify better with men. When I imagine myself in the future I see a man. I spent two-and-a-half years with another girl. I have an amazing male friend who is very effeminate.

So, what does that make me? Gay? Transgendered? Probably.
But what I don't understand is why... Why must we have categories? One is either male, female or a freak.
Can't we all just be who we are...? Lizzie can be as effeminate as he likes, but that's just Lizzie. I can wear a three-piece suit and wingtip shoes, and that's just me.
A naive and teenage view, I agree. But I firmly believed that it should be that way. There should be no 'gender identity', there should just be people, being who they are, and loving who they love. I knew it was impossible, of course, because people are conditioned and that conditioning will never stop, it is self-perpetuating.

However, in light of a recent (messy) relationship with a boy, I'm doubting myself.
This boy, we'll call him Alex, because that's his name and he doesn't know I have this blog, cannot accept me as a person. I am... A Girl. Yes, Yes, he's a teenage boy, his mind is ruled by testosterone, and so on. He wants to get close to me, he wants to get under my shirt, into my pants, he wants to see what I have got. When he realises that - ain't gonna happen - he withdraws, and 'sleeps', gets all miserable. After these episodes, he avoids me, doesn't speak to me much, and then gets his claws out. When I make an innocent remark he retorts in a very worked up manner. Then, a little while later he apologises, says he just needed a let-out. The cycle starts over.
I feel used - This is no way to treat a friend. I am not his scratching post, or his whore. I am his friend. I feel like I am being treated like an object.

So, yes. There is a fundamental difference between girls and boys (not just the obvious!), although I am not sure what it is. But when they clash, something goes horribly, horribly wrong... And I don't think that is down to conditioning.