Utah, USA
— He kissed little girls. He begged for a
football. And he dressed up as a soldier, Dracula and the
Lone Ranger.
"Tom" wasn't a little
boy. He had girl parts and had a girl's name. But as
early as 6 years old, he remembers wanting to be a boy.
By age 12, when he got his period, he thought God had
made a mistake.
"I wanted to die," says
Tom, who asked that his first and last names not be used.
"I began to pray for God to just take me, take me out of
this world."
Now, Tom, 35, lives the
only way he has always felt inside - as a man.
Tom is engaged to Marie,
whom he's been dating for almost five years. His Utah
driver license says "male." He's worked as a construction
worker, security guard and landscaper. He has a trim
beard. Some people know about his past, and others only
know him as Tom.
During the interview, Tom
was uncomfortable talking about his life as a female. He
identifies himself as a "straight male."
"I have never discussed
myself as a female," he says taking a few deep breaths.
"It's like looking at somebody else's life."
It is unknown how many
transgender men and women call Utah home because no one
tracks those numbers, some people don't identify with the
term and others are in denial, advocates say.
"It's not asked about,"
says Jennifer Nuttall, the adult program director at the
Utah Pride Center. "All we have is anecdotal evidence."
But as the community
celebrates Transgender Awareness Month throughout
November, advocates say they hope people try to
understand transgender individuals like Tom.
When he was 2 years old,
Tom says he was scolded by adults for trying to kiss a
little girl because only boys kissed girls.
"I remember thinking,
'But I am a little boy,' " he says.
Tom, the youngest of five
children, moved to the Salt Lake Valley when he was 8
years old. He never wanted dolls, pretended to be a
princess or played tea party. He got in trouble for going
into the girl's rest room because he looked like a boy.
He grew up Mormon, and
his family was very involved in the church. Tom was the
president of his church class, captain of the church
sports teams and head of the young women's group. He
usually wore jeans, his hair short and boy clothes, but
his mother forced him "kicking and screaming" to wear
dresses on Sundays for church. At age 12, Tom finally put
his foot down and started wearing ties and slacks to
church. He wrapped his chest with duct tape to flatten
the breasts that he loathed.
"I said, 'If I'm going to
be in the house of the Lord, I'm going to dress like he
knows me,' " Tom says.
His parents were
concerned that he was a lesbian, so appointments and
diagnoses began. At least one doctor diagnosed Tom with
"gender identity disorder." It is a condition in which a
person is born a certain gender but identifies with the
other.
Tom denied his male
tendencies, hoping they would go away.
"I didn't want my parents
to hate me," he says.
After high school, Tom
moved out and lived his life as a man. He had
relationships with women. His parents eventually accepted
him as a son.
It was his mother who
encouraged him to investigate undergoing sex reassignment
surgery when he was 27. He began going to counseling and
started hormone treatments that helped stop his period
and grow more facial and chest hair.
In 2001, Tom paid some
$6,500 for chest reconstruction. Since then, he's been
saving for the lower body surgeries that could take up to
a year to complete and cost roughly $35,000.
For Marie, Tom is already
all the man she needs.
He's her best friend. He
sends her flowers. He supports her.
"He's everything I've
ever wanted in a man," she says. "He's always been male
to me."
Still, Tom hopes to have
his surgery in early 2007.
"I will feel physically
complete," he says. "I will feel like I finally am what I
always should have been."
