YOU WOULD THINK that running around in
shorts and a t-shirt, climbing trees, bringing
home guppy fish from the local creek, building
tree houses and playing with such classic toys
as Matchbox cars and Star Wars figures would
have been a dead giveaway.
But no - My parents chose to dismiss this
behaviour and label me with that all too easy,
quick fix cop out - 'Tomboy'.
Not willing to subject myself to the
possibility of being shipped off to the nearest
psychiatric facility, or the much feared Hari
Krishna community in NSW - I forced the real me
to hide in a closet in the darkest recess of my
brain.
It was a difficult time for me - puberty, a
nightmare for anyone, was no less than hellish
for me. My friends ridiculed me because I am
deaf in one ear and had to wear glasses. I
imagined that it would be unbearable if they
knew that I was a boy born into a girl's body.
There was no one I could talk to. No one I could
trust with my secret, except myself.
So, I carried it around with me and pretended
to be a girl. I did what was expected of me - I
dated, finally got married and had a baby!
I was unhappy, often filled with rage and
guilt and worse, lapsed into terribly dark
depression. I felt as if I were a freak - was it
some kind of perversion? Was I imagining it? Was
I mentally deranged? Did my mother drop me on my
head as a baby?
All these thoughts ran my mind around in
circles. I would always come back to the same
answer. The voice in the closet was loudest when
I was alone - "Let me out. Let me live my life.
You're not a freak. You're me."
I had to wait though. First, the wait to get
divorced and then I had to wait for my father to
pass away because I did not wish to add to his
misery. I did not want to be responsible for
placing an extra burden on him. Then I had to
wait for my mother to end her grieving - what
kind of a child would put a parent through such
a revelation after the death of their
partner?
Finally, I was free to express myself. I
could exist in the real world and not hide
myself away. I knew it would be a tough road,
but the journey would be worth the occasional
bump in the road.
I was afraid, anxious, concerned - but I was
also elated, excited by the prospect of just
being me and not conforming to society's
standards. I was happy to finally be true to
myself.
Sure - Some people can't accept what you have
to tell them. I realised that I had to let
people I knew deal with it in their own time,
particularly my mother. She was angry at first,
then in denial, then she started to blame
herself and wonder what she did wrong, then she
became confused and finally, accepting. It has
taken her four years.
Some folks are cool with it. Some don't need
to know. If people can simply accept you for who
you are and not judge you by you gender, then
they are good folks. Those that are quick to
judge are usually ignorant and uneducated. I've
spoken to numerous people about myself - helping
them to understand what I am going through. I
lost a lot of friends because I chose to live
for myself. To me, these people are simply not
worth knowing. What kind of friend abandons you
when you need them the most?
I was forced out of my job because my manager
couldn't deal - her issues with me affected
everyone around me and affected my health. I
could not fight back because the
Anti-discrimination legislation does not cover
me in Queensland. The Union would not help me,
because I was not covered. I had no choice but
to leave.
So here I am. I went through some of the
darkest times of my life alone - though I am
very lucky to have gone through the recent times
with a loving partner and wonderful son. I
started my own business - which although I am
just starting out - means I answer to no one but
myself.
I found support people through ATSAQ,
medical professionals and people who knew what I
was on about.
Through the Internet, I found other FTM's -
in Australia and internationally. There are
plenty of us out and about that are here to help
you - moral support, counselling, answering your
questions.
I'm not alone anymore and it's important for
you to realise that you aren't either.
