Steps on the road
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OK, here I am - my first public words about my transgender status. Almost 45 years ago, I was born transgender. The doctors all said I was a baby girl; I was treated and raised as a girl, but INSIDE I knew the truth - I was SUPPOSED to be a BOY. When I turned three, and first understood there was a difference between bodies of boys and girls, I knew I was stuck in the WRONG ONE.
It's that simple, that direct, and that painfully confusing.
I had four older siblings - three brothers and a sister. Why had I been stuck in the wrong body? Why couldn't everyone else see and understand this?
I kept trying to tell my parents - but no parent (then) pays attention when their youngest daughter says junk like "I'm a boy. I don't want to wear frilly panties; or a dress." Parents (then) just put the clothes on the kid and get upset whenever the kid tries to pull them off.
Did I mention my father's job? He was a United Methodist Minister; pastor of several small churches in our state at one time or another. Church people can be some of the most wonderful folk you'll ever meet - or some of the least. All depends on how each one interprets the teachings of the Bible. My dad felt as his family, we had to be WITHOUT FLAWS publicly, so we could serve as examples to the people of his churches.
Guess where that put me?
Forced into a mold; made into a false person - this female everyone could see on the outside. The "perfect daughter"; the one who got all A's on report cards, never acted up or acted out, never wanted to date, never rebelled, never spoke out in public. Lived in books.
It was hell. I was trapped, and no one knew or cared. Every week, I was paraded in front of the members of whichever church, dressed in girly dresses I couldn't stand, forced to accept hugs from people I didn't know - or knew were trying to use me to get dirt to use against my dad - and told how pretty I was. (Sounds silly? Try being forced to live as the gender you ARE NOT and DON'T WANT TO BE.)
Yes, it sounds silly - but I had no choice, and no where else to turn. And it WAS hell - because they would say things about how so-and-so was going to hell for (whatever different behavior), and these people meant it.
So, I learned quick to keep silent on who I was inside.
At home, I was a tomboy; playing with my three older brothers, ignoring or destroying the countless dolls people gave me, always seeing myself as just one of the guys. I never took an interest in "girl things" - makeup, hair, fancy clothes, talking about boys, cooking - I was always into "boy stuff" - playing soldier, building a tree house, camping, hunting, shooting guns, carving wood, helping work on cars.
Mother worked 3rd shift as an RN - one of the nurses at the hospital. She slept most of the day, and was away most nights, so she had little input into my life. Dad always made it seem Mom was entirely on his side of everything, so soon I quit trying to bring her more into my life. Years later, we discovered Dad never told Mom so many things - anything he felt she might not agree with him on went unsaid. So, there were decades of things that Mom NEVER KNEW ABOUT because of how Dad worked to keep it from her - and her from being more involved in our lives.
School was.... School was really bad, but we never stayed anywhere long enough to build any connections. I was just one of the outsiders - the "PK", preacher's kid - who moved in one summer, stayed for a year or so, and moved away. It got worse once puberty hit.
One school year - the end of 5th grade - I was just one of the guys; then that summer puberty hit and I shot up over a foot taller, and my breasts grew in seemingly overnight. I was now entering 6th grade towering over everyone else, and had boobs - big size DDD's - so I looked like a bean pole with two watermellons near the top.
Can you say TARGET? New kid looks different from everyone else. Plus, she's smart - got A's again - and I found myself being attacked repeatedly by boys in my class. I was trying to walk home from school, and three of them jumped me, pounding me into the dirt, yelling threats, trying to tear my clothing off. I fought back, fought them off, but had a bloody nose and blackened eye from it.
Last year, these boys hadn't even known I was at school; this year,... they attacked me three times before I turned the tables on them and made THEM feel small and helpless.
But I knew then that I would never be able to just be "one of the guys" again. My wrong body had betrayed me.
In eighth grade, I finally had my first monthly cycle. The pain, nausea, and violent mood swings came with it, making my hell worse - now, I had a week of physical torture to go with my mental and psychological hell. After three years, I was finally taken to an OBGYN - who said there was nothing wrong. No reason for the pain, nausea, etc. I was suffering through every month. Dad convinced Mom I was trying to lay out of school - why, when I was a solid A student? - so I was left to suffer alone. My cycle became more and more erratic, until I was taken to another OBGYN - I was almost 17 then - who found no reason for what was happening, and put me on the pill to "regulate things". All it did was tame the erratic cycle; everything else remained unchanged.
All this time, I never felt I belonged among the girls at school - their interests were so different, somewhat alien to mine; and they actually wanted to MATE with those guys! They looked FORWARD to having their monthly cycles! They were proud and happy about going through the mess of female reproduction systems gearing up. Me? I just wanted it to all END.
It was during this time that my chronic depression surfaced. I became suicidal, being trapped like this, with no way out, no help, and no one to talk to who would understand. I was alone in my hell. I was the only guy trapped in a female body on the entire world. I tried looking it up - but what do you call something when you're the only one with it? I was very close to killing myself several times; only the knowledge that it would ruin my dad's career and upset my mom stopped me from ending my own life. I prayed so hard, so often, I started to think God must have gotten tired of hearing me complain - I mean, I was in a home, with food, clothing, school, and people who cared somewhat about me. I wasn't living on the streets, or being abused, or on drugs. What did I have to complain about? Being a guy trapped in a woman's body? Wasn't that crazy-talk? So I eventually gave up on prayer, figuring God had more important problems to deal with - like wars, and homeless people, and people who abuse others.
After all, I wasn't important enough to those in my life for anyone to notice how I was totally withdrawn, retreated into my own world, uninterested in anything at all. Just waiting to die. I had thought of running away - but away to where? My problems couldn't be left behind; my body with its wrong gender went everywhere I did. Then, I found Middle Earth. The Lord of the Rings. I opened that book's doorway, and never looked back.
That led to discovering Role Playing Games - Dungeons and Dragons, where you could play anything and anyone - male or female. An escape, at last.
So, for decades I escaped into games like that. Then I began meeting people who were different.... gays, lesbians, bisexuals. I didn't quite fit in with any of them, but it was closer. Then one day, one of them told me about the concept TRANSGENDER.
I had a small group to talk to, and a new idea that sounded exactly right - transgender. But still no one to turn to.
But it was a beginning.
OK, here I am - my first public words about my transgender status. Almost 45 years ago, I was born transgender. The doctors all said I was a baby girl; I was treated and raised as a girl, but INSIDE I knew the truth - I was SUPPOSED to be a BOY. When I turned three, and first understood there was a difference between bodies of boys and girls, I knew I was stuck in the WRONG ONE.
It's that simple, that direct, and that painfully confusing.
I had four older siblings - three brothers and a sister. Why had I been stuck in the wrong body? Why couldn't everyone else see and understand this?
I kept trying to tell my parents - but no parent (then) pays attention when their youngest daughter says junk like "I'm a boy. I don't want to wear frilly panties; or a dress." Parents (then) just put the clothes on the kid and get upset whenever the kid tries to pull them off.
Did I mention my father's job? He was a United Methodist Minister; pastor of several small churches in our state at one time or another. Church people can be some of the most wonderful folk you'll ever meet - or some of the least. All depends on how each one interprets the teachings of the Bible. My dad felt as his family, we had to be WITHOUT FLAWS publicly, so we could serve as examples to the people of his churches.
Guess where that put me?
Forced into a mold; made into a false person - this female everyone could see on the outside. The "perfect daughter"; the one who got all A's on report cards, never acted up or acted out, never wanted to date, never rebelled, never spoke out in public. Lived in books.
It was hell. I was trapped, and no one knew or cared. Every week, I was paraded in front of the members of whichever church, dressed in girly dresses I couldn't stand, forced to accept hugs from people I didn't know - or knew were trying to use me to get dirt to use against my dad - and told how pretty I was. (Sounds silly? Try being forced to live as the gender you ARE NOT and DON'T WANT TO BE.)
Yes, it sounds silly - but I had no choice, and no where else to turn. And it WAS hell - because they would say things about how so-and-so was going to hell for (whatever different behavior), and these people meant it.
So, I learned quick to keep silent on who I was inside.
At home, I was a tomboy; playing with my three older brothers, ignoring or destroying the countless dolls people gave me, always seeing myself as just one of the guys. I never took an interest in "girl things" - makeup, hair, fancy clothes, talking about boys, cooking - I was always into "boy stuff" - playing soldier, building a tree house, camping, hunting, shooting guns, carving wood, helping work on cars.
Mother worked 3rd shift as an RN - one of the nurses at the hospital. She slept most of the day, and was away most nights, so she had little input into my life. Dad always made it seem Mom was entirely on his side of everything, so soon I quit trying to bring her more into my life. Years later, we discovered Dad never told Mom so many things - anything he felt she might not agree with him on went unsaid. So, there were decades of things that Mom NEVER KNEW ABOUT because of how Dad worked to keep it from her - and her from being more involved in our lives.
School was.... School was really bad, but we never stayed anywhere long enough to build any connections. I was just one of the outsiders - the "PK", preacher's kid - who moved in one summer, stayed for a year or so, and moved away. It got worse once puberty hit.
One school year - the end of 5th grade - I was just one of the guys; then that summer puberty hit and I shot up over a foot taller, and my breasts grew in seemingly overnight. I was now entering 6th grade towering over everyone else, and had boobs - big size DDD's - so I looked like a bean pole with two watermellons near the top.
Can you say TARGET? New kid looks different from everyone else. Plus, she's smart - got A's again - and I found myself being attacked repeatedly by boys in my class. I was trying to walk home from school, and three of them jumped me, pounding me into the dirt, yelling threats, trying to tear my clothing off. I fought back, fought them off, but had a bloody nose and blackened eye from it.
Last year, these boys hadn't even known I was at school; this year,... they attacked me three times before I turned the tables on them and made THEM feel small and helpless.
But I knew then that I would never be able to just be "one of the guys" again. My wrong body had betrayed me.
In eighth grade, I finally had my first monthly cycle. The pain, nausea, and violent mood swings came with it, making my hell worse - now, I had a week of physical torture to go with my mental and psychological hell. After three years, I was finally taken to an OBGYN - who said there was nothing wrong. No reason for the pain, nausea, etc. I was suffering through every month. Dad convinced Mom I was trying to lay out of school - why, when I was a solid A student? - so I was left to suffer alone. My cycle became more and more erratic, until I was taken to another OBGYN - I was almost 17 then - who found no reason for what was happening, and put me on the pill to "regulate things". All it did was tame the erratic cycle; everything else remained unchanged.
All this time, I never felt I belonged among the girls at school - their interests were so different, somewhat alien to mine; and they actually wanted to MATE with those guys! They looked FORWARD to having their monthly cycles! They were proud and happy about going through the mess of female reproduction systems gearing up. Me? I just wanted it to all END.
It was during this time that my chronic depression surfaced. I became suicidal, being trapped like this, with no way out, no help, and no one to talk to who would understand. I was alone in my hell. I was the only guy trapped in a female body on the entire world. I tried looking it up - but what do you call something when you're the only one with it? I was very close to killing myself several times; only the knowledge that it would ruin my dad's career and upset my mom stopped me from ending my own life. I prayed so hard, so often, I started to think God must have gotten tired of hearing me complain - I mean, I was in a home, with food, clothing, school, and people who cared somewhat about me. I wasn't living on the streets, or being abused, or on drugs. What did I have to complain about? Being a guy trapped in a woman's body? Wasn't that crazy-talk? So I eventually gave up on prayer, figuring God had more important problems to deal with - like wars, and homeless people, and people who abuse others.
After all, I wasn't important enough to those in my life for anyone to notice how I was totally withdrawn, retreated into my own world, uninterested in anything at all. Just waiting to die. I had thought of running away - but away to where? My problems couldn't be left behind; my body with its wrong gender went everywhere I did. Then, I found Middle Earth. The Lord of the Rings. I opened that book's doorway, and never looked back.
That led to discovering Role Playing Games - Dungeons and Dragons, where you could play anything and anyone - male or female. An escape, at last.
So, for decades I escaped into games like that. Then I began meeting people who were different.... gays, lesbians, bisexuals. I didn't quite fit in with any of them, but it was closer. Then one day, one of them told me about the concept TRANSGENDER.
I had a small group to talk to, and a new idea that sounded exactly right - transgender. But still no one to turn to.
But it was a beginning.
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