The next few weeks were a bit of blur, full of new feelings. Confusing feelings and exciting feelings. Finally having somebody I could open up to about this after so many years. Quickly I began to realise this wasn't going to go away and even though I didn't feel I could go through with gender reassignment, I had no choice I couldn't go on living that way for the rest of my life.
In early February I'd gone to my GP to ask to go back on my meds for depression, and I'd seen a new doctor who was only there part time, but in that one visit he made me feel like I could trust him and he wasn't going to change the subject to my diabetes every time I went in for something else, like some of them do. So when I went back for more medication I told him why I was depressed, and the ball started rolling very slowly, he didn't know the procedures, so said he would find out for my next visit.
Another few weeks down the line, I decided it was time to tell my girlfriend, I didn't expect her to take it so well but she was wonderful, she said she'd know something was wrong and had done ever since I was first depressed and it a way she was just to finally know what it was and that something could be done about it.
I thought a lot of the next month or two about things, in that time I think I more or less decide that when it came to changing my name it would be to Josie or Josephine, my friend more or less decided that for me when it was what she called me in reply to my original confession. Plus I didn't see the point in confusing things by choosing something totally different. People can still call me Jo, so it's easier for everybody.
After my next trip to my GP I was referred for counselling, this was pretty much a waste of time, I had 2 sessions but it was with a general counsellor who had no experience of gender identity disorder(GID). When I went back to my GP he managed to refer me to a psychosexologist, although as she was on long term sick leave it would be 2009 before I got to see her.
Around this time I also told a few more of my friends on my livejournal, at this point I had only every told girls about my plans as I just didn't feel comfortable yet telling any of my male friends. Again they were wonderful and supportive. Also I started having problems with my eyes, another health issue to worry about, my sight started deteriorating quite quickly. I had to have some laser treatment which wasn't overtly successful so I was referred to Liverpool for surgery in early 2009. The rest of 2008 was pretty uneventful as far as things were going.
January 2009, was a very busy month. Firstly I decided to come out to on the messageboard I had been posting on for years. This was very nerve racking, as these weren't necessarily people who liked me or that I knew well and I thought there would be some pisstaking if nothing else. Surprisingly although most people were quite shocked and never suspected the was no real negative reactions, a few raised eyebrows and a couple of 'OMG why would you want your penis cut off' comments but nothing bad. I also had my first appointment with the psychosexologist which went pretty well. I then told some of my 'real life' friend i.e. those I went to school and college with. Things didn't go so well with them, some were quite nasty and said I was a freak/weirdo and they didn't want to know me any more, a couple thought it was hilarious. Some seemed ok with it, but wpild soon begin to drift away, by not contacting me or replying to my text messages, This was quite hard because it was the first real rejections I had from people, but still it's their choice. I can't make people like me, and if they can't accept me wanting to be happy and be myself tough. Around this time I also starting buying and wearing some more 'girly' clothes on a daily basis. Although obviously being careful not arouse suspicions with my family. I also bought some more breast forms, and although I was a little happier with these, than the others they were still far from perfect.
I also had my first eye surgeries, which due to a bleed in my right eye left me virtually blind and unable to go outside on my own for about 4 months, this was quite hard because it was hard to keep in contact with people and things really ground to a halt. After the surgery it became clear they weren't able to do much with the sight in my left eye and it would remain very poor, but my right eye would probably be ok, once the blood had cleared up. It was the end of June before this happened, and it was a time of mixed emotions. I was on a massive high because finally after months I could see to use a computer properly, I could read and I could go out on my own. But also sadly somebody I was friends with from the messageboard very unexpectedly took his own life, which lead to a lot of people I'd been friends with, but not talked to in years posting on the boards. At this point I decided it was time to get a Facebook account so I wouldn't lose contact again. There was a course another round of explanations for those who didn't yet know, but again most people were nothing but supportive.
In August I took voluntary redundancy from my job, because they were making 2 redundancies and I'd been off sick for 5 months because of my eyes. So it was fairly obvious I'd be one of then and the voluntary package would be better than if they decided to make me redundant. I kept seeing the psychosexologist and I had 2 more eye operations on my left eye towards the end of the year.
In February this year I finally saw a proper psychiatrist, as part of my assessment I needed a proper psych exam in order to be referred to one of the proper gender clinics. Although I don't think it went very, some of the questions were odd, and sometimes he wouldn't accept my answers and he seemed to be trying to make me fit a certain label. I got the desired result and he said I needed to be referred. This report was sent off to the PCT in April and they were going to make a decision when they had their meeting on 30th June.
In May I started attending the monthly TREC meetings in Manchester, when I can. These offer me a chance to get used to dressing out and about in a safe environment, while also being able to learn how to pass as a woman, and learn how to apply make-up and just generally be around other transgender people.
Although I've had very little luck finding employment, I did how get offered some voluntary work, which I am still doing part time which I am hoping could turn into paid work. This won't be until the end of August if it happens as I am going back into hospital in a couple of weeks for a further operation on my left eye.
So this is me up to date. Hopefully now I can just update this blog to say how I am progressing and try not to use it too much like a journal where I'd just piss and moan when I am feeling a bit down. Hopefully soon the PCT will let me know if they have decided if they will fund my treatment or not, it's been almost a month since their meeting so fingers crossed I will get a letter soon.
Sunday, 25 July 2010
Wednesday, 21 July 2010
Part 3 : The Depressive Years.
So we're now in 2002, about the time I got broadband internet woohoo! This small thing ended up over time making such a massive difference to my life. First of all it gave me unlimited access to a whole world of information about gender dystopia, transgender forums, and information about surgery and the like. I began to maybe realise I was transgender and just because I didn't really fit the stereotypes I've been used to seeing and hearing about, it didn't matter. I also at the time I also joined a internet message board, little did I know what effect that was going to have on my life.
In the summer of that year I went into meltdown, I drank very heavily and must have slept with at least 5 different girls, including my boss' sister, okay not a smart idea but even before that things had gotten to a point where she was impossible to work with. One thing was the final straw in what was left of a once decent friendship earlier that year. My dad was admitted to hospital with a blood clot in his leg, I asked to leave early because he was in a pretty bad way. She said something like 'No, stop going on about your dad if not like he's going to die. I had to watch my mother die(this was about 18 months previously)blah blah blah something." By that point I wasn't listening I'd just walked out and was on my way to see him. Everything was about her mother dying. OK yes it's sad, but I'm sorry almost 2 years later you can't expect special treatment just because your mother has died. Sadly it happens to most people at some time in their life. Thankfully after a few days in hospital my dad was fine.
So towards the end of the year, the stress of work and my boos being a total bitch, coupled with the face I really wasn't coping with life in general. I ended up being signed off work for 2 weeks with depression. Another classic from my boss "What do you have to be depressed about? I had to watch my mother die!" Basically she was pissed off because I was the only one who knew what I was doing and worked hard so things weren't getting done and she got the flack. One thing I always smiled to myself about was they had to hire 2 temporary staff to cover my job, so it showed how much I was missed. So 2 weeks turned into another 2 weeks, then another 2. I was referred for counselling. I feel like I missed a real opportunity with this, I could have told her the ultimate reason why I was so depressed. But for whatever reason I didn't. I probably hadn't come to terms with it myself by then either. I ended up being off work for 11 months. When I went back thing improved a bit, things were better. Probably because people had been warned not to pressure me. People were shocked I'd lost about 4 stones in weight and I think then they realised I'd been pretty ill and just on some jolly for a year.
During my time at home, I spent a lot of time on the internet and I got to know quite a few people off the message board. I began talking to one girl in particular, she was only 15 I think when we first stared chatting(yes, I'm a paedophile :P) and became very close friends and we both kept each other on the straight and narrow during our depressive episodes. If I'm honest nobody else has had quite such a positive effect on my life, I'm pretty sure she saved my life on more than one occasion. My first girlfriend came back to town for a while and we got back together again and things sort of began to platen for a while.
2004, I sunk back into depression and ended up having to spend a few days and night in a mental hospital, because I began self harming very often. It's something I had done occasionally throughout my depression, but soon after I returned to work it became an almost daily ritual. I also attempted suicide by taking a overdose of anti-depressants. My girlfriend moved to Australia to stay with her grandparents for several months. I also started going to meets around the country with all the friends I had started to make on the message board. I also around this time found an outlet with sort of helped my depression and also in a way felt the girl in me out a little. I started collecting A LOT of cuddly toys mainly Stitch from Lilo and Stitch ones, I maybe became a little bit too obsessed. I think this finally managed to pull me around a little. I also began psychotherapy which would last for nearly three years.
2005, In January I again tried to take my own life, taking an overdose again. My annoying boss finally fucked off and quit her job. WOOOHOOO! For the next few years life pretty much stagnated. I remained with my girlfriend but we never felt the time was right to commit and move in together. Work went okay, not a great job, but easy and decent money and not 200% less stressful. During these years I also began to experiment with wearing women's clothing a little more. It didn't make any happier, so I sort of gave up and tried to suppress the feelings I had, and tried to just accept I was a man and that was the end of it.
Towards the end of 2007 I began to dream regularly about turning into a girl and in most of those dreams the girl I had become very close friends with from the message board was involved. Then in early 2008 I did the unthinkable. It was a spur of the moment thing, I never planned to. I never even really gave it much thought at all. I sent her a text message saying I had something I couldn't tell anybody and she might hate me if I told her. She asked me what it was, and I told her I wanted to be a girl. It seemed like hours until she replied to say it wasn't obvious, but she was fine with it. At this point I had no intention still of transitioning or having surgery, but that to would soon change.
In the summer of that year I went into meltdown, I drank very heavily and must have slept with at least 5 different girls, including my boss' sister, okay not a smart idea but even before that things had gotten to a point where she was impossible to work with. One thing was the final straw in what was left of a once decent friendship earlier that year. My dad was admitted to hospital with a blood clot in his leg, I asked to leave early because he was in a pretty bad way. She said something like 'No, stop going on about your dad if not like he's going to die. I had to watch my mother die(this was about 18 months previously)blah blah blah something." By that point I wasn't listening I'd just walked out and was on my way to see him. Everything was about her mother dying. OK yes it's sad, but I'm sorry almost 2 years later you can't expect special treatment just because your mother has died. Sadly it happens to most people at some time in their life. Thankfully after a few days in hospital my dad was fine.
So towards the end of the year, the stress of work and my boos being a total bitch, coupled with the face I really wasn't coping with life in general. I ended up being signed off work for 2 weeks with depression. Another classic from my boss "What do you have to be depressed about? I had to watch my mother die!" Basically she was pissed off because I was the only one who knew what I was doing and worked hard so things weren't getting done and she got the flack. One thing I always smiled to myself about was they had to hire 2 temporary staff to cover my job, so it showed how much I was missed. So 2 weeks turned into another 2 weeks, then another 2. I was referred for counselling. I feel like I missed a real opportunity with this, I could have told her the ultimate reason why I was so depressed. But for whatever reason I didn't. I probably hadn't come to terms with it myself by then either. I ended up being off work for 11 months. When I went back thing improved a bit, things were better. Probably because people had been warned not to pressure me. People were shocked I'd lost about 4 stones in weight and I think then they realised I'd been pretty ill and just on some jolly for a year.
During my time at home, I spent a lot of time on the internet and I got to know quite a few people off the message board. I began talking to one girl in particular, she was only 15 I think when we first stared chatting(yes, I'm a paedophile :P) and became very close friends and we both kept each other on the straight and narrow during our depressive episodes. If I'm honest nobody else has had quite such a positive effect on my life, I'm pretty sure she saved my life on more than one occasion. My first girlfriend came back to town for a while and we got back together again and things sort of began to platen for a while.
2004, I sunk back into depression and ended up having to spend a few days and night in a mental hospital, because I began self harming very often. It's something I had done occasionally throughout my depression, but soon after I returned to work it became an almost daily ritual. I also attempted suicide by taking a overdose of anti-depressants. My girlfriend moved to Australia to stay with her grandparents for several months. I also started going to meets around the country with all the friends I had started to make on the message board. I also around this time found an outlet with sort of helped my depression and also in a way felt the girl in me out a little. I started collecting A LOT of cuddly toys mainly Stitch from Lilo and Stitch ones, I maybe became a little bit too obsessed. I think this finally managed to pull me around a little. I also began psychotherapy which would last for nearly three years.
2005, In January I again tried to take my own life, taking an overdose again. My annoying boss finally fucked off and quit her job. WOOOHOOO! For the next few years life pretty much stagnated. I remained with my girlfriend but we never felt the time was right to commit and move in together. Work went okay, not a great job, but easy and decent money and not 200% less stressful. During these years I also began to experiment with wearing women's clothing a little more. It didn't make any happier, so I sort of gave up and tried to suppress the feelings I had, and tried to just accept I was a man and that was the end of it.
Towards the end of 2007 I began to dream regularly about turning into a girl and in most of those dreams the girl I had become very close friends with from the message board was involved. Then in early 2008 I did the unthinkable. It was a spur of the moment thing, I never planned to. I never even really gave it much thought at all. I sent her a text message saying I had something I couldn't tell anybody and she might hate me if I told her. She asked me what it was, and I told her I wanted to be a girl. It seemed like hours until she replied to say it wasn't obvious, but she was fine with it. At this point I had no intention still of transitioning or having surgery, but that to would soon change.
Saturday, 17 July 2010
Part 2 : The College Years.
Sorry but this isn't going to be like one of those American teen movies I'm afraid.
But before we get to that let's talk about icky stuff I forgot to write about from my early childhood. Specifically what nature decided to put between my legs and how I felt about that. Well as most people know little boys very quickly find this thing between their legs and it immediacy fascinates them and becomes the centre of their world. Surprisingly or not, I never felt any connection to it, it was just something that was there and it's only purpose was for weeing. In fact thinking about I didn't actually learn to wee standing up, until I was in junior school, I think. Although I didn't learn to walk until I was 3 and then I had an operation on my leg when I was about 5, so things like probably contributed to that as well. But it's safe to say I absolute hate it, and I've never felt comfortable with it. To be fair I'd probably be a lot happier than I am now if I could get rid of that but things don't work like that. So getting rid of it will be about the last thing to happen.
So anyway where were we? Oh yeah I was just about finished with high school and had just started going out a girl, right? So after gaining pretty average GCSE results I foolishly decided to stay on in the sixth form and do my A-levels, there must have been at least 8 to choose from basically your core subjects, Maths, Physics and Economics! What the hell was I thinking? As you can probably tell from reading this blog English isn't one of my strongest subjects. It was about this time, I had my first taste of cross dressing. My middle sister(the last of my sisters to leave home) moved out and I inherited her old room, when she went she left a binbag full of clothes for giving to the charity shop. There wasn't much, but I raided this and salvaged a skirt and a couple of tops that didn't really fit me. It didn't really help things and I was always terrified of being caught, so it didn't last long until they were consigned to a bag in the bottom of my wardrobe. Then came the bombshells. Despite being careful my girlfriend got pregnant(I have to admit I did feel some jealousy, odd yes but there you go), so my studies became quite secondary to that. Eventually after a lot of soul searching she was going to have an abortion.. except the doctors made a mistake and by the time she was to have it, she was over 24 weeks. So eventually we came to the decision to have the baby adopted soon after he was born. A decision that I know still haunts us both as to if it was the correct one, but it probably was for his sake. I totally flunked my first year of A-levels and I started feeling very lethargic, uninterested in anything much at all and lost a lot of weight, this lead to us splinting up a couple of months later and she moved away to Newquay. I then decided to quit the sixth form and go to college to do a course in computer studies. I began to feel really ill, and with a couple of weeks I was hospitalised and nearly died, as I had undiagnosed type I diabetes. Overall the next few years were pretty uneventful to be honest, I did the whole student thing, drunk copious amounts of alcohol, experimented with a lot of illicit drugs and went to a silly amount of gigs. I was happier than I'd been so far in my life, I think that was down to finally having quite a bit more freedom than I was used to.
My issues with my gender didn't exactly go away during this time, but they didn't rule my life on a daily basis either. I hoped it had just been a phase and I was becoming more comfortable with who I was. But it was more of a case of I'd become VERY good at masking my feelings even to myself and I became good at pretending I was happy. During these 4 years I didn't really have any relationships, nor was I bothered about this, although for a few month the girl I'd seen before came back home and we sort of went out again, but nothing serious. Life was quiet if nothing else, little did I know there was a timebomb ticking in my head.
I left college in shortly before my 21st birthday, after gaining a HND in computer studies. It took me a few months to get a job, but when I did it things seemed ok. I got on well with my boss and co-workers and I enjoyed the work and of course finally earning some money. A few months after later I was reading FHM or Loaded or some such magazine and it had an article about transsexuals in Thailand they mentioned a company in the UK that sold clothing etc, for 'men who want to be women' I won't mention the company name, as the owner has a history of litigation against people. Basically as I was to find out later they sold over priced useless tat to desperate and vulnerable people. I spent hundreds of pounds there. I bought some underwear a pair of false breast(which were basically made of foam) and a false vagina(basically some latex shaped a vulva on a belt). Of course none of this helped me feel any better about myself, in fact it made me feel a whole lot worse. At that time I also purchased some hormones over the internet, my first attempt at 'self-medicating' I bought 3 months worth, I had no idea what I was doing nor if what I was doing was dangerous. At first they made me feel nauseous, I guess like morning sickness, I don't really recall what difference they made to my moods and general state of mind. They didn't really have any lasting effect on my body because I didn't take them long enough. I guess maybe I got a little breast growth but nothing really noticeable. Although one thing I did notice is they made my wee smell different.
Soon after this things started to go wrong at work. My boss who I'd been good friends with started to go on a major power trip with everybody and it turned everybody against one another, and to cut a long story short... it tipped me over the edge and the timebomb exploded. I went into a deep clinical depression, one that would keep me off work for almost a year. Tune in next time for another thrilling instalment!
But before we get to that let's talk about icky stuff I forgot to write about from my early childhood. Specifically what nature decided to put between my legs and how I felt about that. Well as most people know little boys very quickly find this thing between their legs and it immediacy fascinates them and becomes the centre of their world. Surprisingly or not, I never felt any connection to it, it was just something that was there and it's only purpose was for weeing. In fact thinking about I didn't actually learn to wee standing up, until I was in junior school, I think. Although I didn't learn to walk until I was 3 and then I had an operation on my leg when I was about 5, so things like probably contributed to that as well. But it's safe to say I absolute hate it, and I've never felt comfortable with it. To be fair I'd probably be a lot happier than I am now if I could get rid of that but things don't work like that. So getting rid of it will be about the last thing to happen.
So anyway where were we? Oh yeah I was just about finished with high school and had just started going out a girl, right? So after gaining pretty average GCSE results I foolishly decided to stay on in the sixth form and do my A-levels, there must have been at least 8 to choose from basically your core subjects, Maths, Physics and Economics! What the hell was I thinking? As you can probably tell from reading this blog English isn't one of my strongest subjects. It was about this time, I had my first taste of cross dressing. My middle sister(the last of my sisters to leave home) moved out and I inherited her old room, when she went she left a binbag full of clothes for giving to the charity shop. There wasn't much, but I raided this and salvaged a skirt and a couple of tops that didn't really fit me. It didn't really help things and I was always terrified of being caught, so it didn't last long until they were consigned to a bag in the bottom of my wardrobe. Then came the bombshells. Despite being careful my girlfriend got pregnant(I have to admit I did feel some jealousy, odd yes but there you go), so my studies became quite secondary to that. Eventually after a lot of soul searching she was going to have an abortion.. except the doctors made a mistake and by the time she was to have it, she was over 24 weeks. So eventually we came to the decision to have the baby adopted soon after he was born. A decision that I know still haunts us both as to if it was the correct one, but it probably was for his sake. I totally flunked my first year of A-levels and I started feeling very lethargic, uninterested in anything much at all and lost a lot of weight, this lead to us splinting up a couple of months later and she moved away to Newquay. I then decided to quit the sixth form and go to college to do a course in computer studies. I began to feel really ill, and with a couple of weeks I was hospitalised and nearly died, as I had undiagnosed type I diabetes. Overall the next few years were pretty uneventful to be honest, I did the whole student thing, drunk copious amounts of alcohol, experimented with a lot of illicit drugs and went to a silly amount of gigs. I was happier than I'd been so far in my life, I think that was down to finally having quite a bit more freedom than I was used to.
My issues with my gender didn't exactly go away during this time, but they didn't rule my life on a daily basis either. I hoped it had just been a phase and I was becoming more comfortable with who I was. But it was more of a case of I'd become VERY good at masking my feelings even to myself and I became good at pretending I was happy. During these 4 years I didn't really have any relationships, nor was I bothered about this, although for a few month the girl I'd seen before came back home and we sort of went out again, but nothing serious. Life was quiet if nothing else, little did I know there was a timebomb ticking in my head.
I left college in shortly before my 21st birthday, after gaining a HND in computer studies. It took me a few months to get a job, but when I did it things seemed ok. I got on well with my boss and co-workers and I enjoyed the work and of course finally earning some money. A few months after later I was reading FHM or Loaded or some such magazine and it had an article about transsexuals in Thailand they mentioned a company in the UK that sold clothing etc, for 'men who want to be women' I won't mention the company name, as the owner has a history of litigation against people. Basically as I was to find out later they sold over priced useless tat to desperate and vulnerable people. I spent hundreds of pounds there. I bought some underwear a pair of false breast(which were basically made of foam) and a false vagina(basically some latex shaped a vulva on a belt). Of course none of this helped me feel any better about myself, in fact it made me feel a whole lot worse. At that time I also purchased some hormones over the internet, my first attempt at 'self-medicating' I bought 3 months worth, I had no idea what I was doing nor if what I was doing was dangerous. At first they made me feel nauseous, I guess like morning sickness, I don't really recall what difference they made to my moods and general state of mind. They didn't really have any lasting effect on my body because I didn't take them long enough. I guess maybe I got a little breast growth but nothing really noticeable. Although one thing I did notice is they made my wee smell different.
Soon after this things started to go wrong at work. My boss who I'd been good friends with started to go on a major power trip with everybody and it turned everybody against one another, and to cut a long story short... it tipped me over the edge and the timebomb exploded. I went into a deep clinical depression, one that would keep me off work for almost a year. Tune in next time for another thrilling instalment!
Wednesday, 14 July 2010
Introductions and Background Stuff Part One
There a good chance if you are reading this you already know me, but just in case this becomes the hottest blog since umm... something. I shall introduce myself.
My name is Joe, well at least for now, that will change to Josie or Josephine in good time. As you've probably guessed I'm a guy who wants to be a girl, because you know that the cool thing to do these days right? In all seriousness though this is not something I've suddenly just decided to do, nor is it something I WANT to do. It's something I HAVE to do. I reached a point in my life just over 2 years ago shortly before my 30th birthday, where I realised things just couldn't carry on like they were or quite simply I'd be dead by now.
For me this means I need to feel comfortable in my own skin, which obviously means I intend to have surgery as soon as possible, which won't be soon at all but hey-ho. I don't really care about what people call me, or if they use the correct pronouns to address me. Although it would be nice if I am treated as a normal person, and not a total freak. It's unlikely to happen that way I'm sure I will face a certain amount prejudice and discrimination once I start transitioning because to be honest I am far from being a good looking man, so I'm not going to make an attractive woman. Although hopefully in time I will afford facial surgery which will help a lot.
So how do I know I should have been born female and not male? Well it's hard to explain because I've always known and so my memories are quite sketchy. My first recollection of something being not quite right was sometime shortly before I started school. I had a colouring book and on the cover was a little girl with long hair, wearing a yellow rain coat and carrying an umbrella. I was so fucking jealous of her, and I used to spend hours looking at that book and wishing I was her. Yes I know it was drawing, but I was about 4 OK? Now at that point I obviously knew boys and girls were different but I had no idea how, I didn't know the physical differences.
So my childhood? Well it wasn't exactly a barrel of laughs and I didn't have a wonderful perfect family like the Walton’s or something but it could have been worse. I have 3 sisters and a brother who are all much older than me 12+ years older in fact. I have never really felt able to turn to my family for help with this, we've never been a close unit that have shared our problems and talked about our feeligs or anything like that. So yes for a very long time I felt alone and confused. I was born with cerebral palsy which didn't help as I wasn't able to play the usual rough and tumble games kids play either so again I felt isolated from other children. Of course because I couldn't play rough games, I often ended up playing with the girls, which I enjoyed. I not really sure what happened but by the time I left the infants, this seemed to have been picked up on and I was discouraged and possibly even chastised for doing this and it was made clear I should play with the other boys and not the girls. No seriously, I can't remember most of this, but one thing I do remember, was one last day of term when you could take toys in. I took a plush bear in which was also a puppet(yes hand up the bum kind) and I was happily playing with some girls who had brought dolls and things in, and I remember the teacher taking it off me and making me go and play with the boys. I think that was the point where things became more confusing for me and I tried to suppress doing what I wanted in favour of doing what society said I should because I didn't want to get in trouble or be shouted at. I still didn't really know anything about how the genders were different. To me girls just wore different clothes, had long hair and played with different toys, but I had no idea why nor did I know why I connected better with them.
So I stumbled through junior school, not really knowing what these feelings were or why I had them. I'm not sure if at any point I ever did that 'LOL cute, I want to be a girl' thing that lots of kids do because they have vivid imaginations and it's just like saying I want to be a cat or something like that. I don't think I ever wanted girl’s toys, but that could have been because it was drummed into me by TV and everybody else. You are a boy you don't like My Little Pony, you like He-Man admittedly cartoon wise I watched both. I had He-Man and Thundercats toys but a lot of my favourite toys were the gender neutral ones. Board games, fuzzy felts playdough and Lego. I did have a Care Bear but of course I had Bedtime bear the one it was acceptable for boys to have, because it was blue and the TV advert had a boy with one.
Obviously next came high school, puberty and the realisation thinga were wrong. During puberty I began to resent and hate my body. I really neglected myself, and never received encouragement from my parents to sort myself out this just made thing worse and one of my regrets. I put on a lot of weight, and hardly cleaned my teeth and as the years passed I became too scared to see a dentist so my teeth are fucking horrible. Another thing on the list of things I need to face and overcome. A lot of my early teen years I don't remember much about. Yes I discovered wanking like any normal boy, but not in a normal way. I used to rub myself with my duvet while fantasising about being or turning into a girl. Basically if you name an attractive female character from a cartoon or TV show in the late 80s or early 90s chances are I've fantasised about being her.
During this time I first learned that changing gender was possible, but was frowned upon and ridiculed by society. Also I didn't relate to the people on the documentaries on TV. They were all old (at that time to me 45+ was old), and unfortunately didn't look much like women either, they were more made to be seen as objects of curiosity and ridicule. So I just carried on thinking thing would sort themselves out eventually and sooner or later I'd just be happy being male.
I don't really know how to describe my sexuality at this point. I certainly wasn't attracted to boys, but I didn’t really want to be WITH a girl either I just wanted to BE one. Eventually in my last year of high school I became very close to a girl and we started going out, for whatever that meant. I just really liked her company. Little did I know that this would become one of the most important relationships I would form with anybody in my life.
That’s it for now. It’s already tl;dr.
My name is Joe, well at least for now, that will change to Josie or Josephine in good time. As you've probably guessed I'm a guy who wants to be a girl, because you know that the cool thing to do these days right? In all seriousness though this is not something I've suddenly just decided to do, nor is it something I WANT to do. It's something I HAVE to do. I reached a point in my life just over 2 years ago shortly before my 30th birthday, where I realised things just couldn't carry on like they were or quite simply I'd be dead by now.
For me this means I need to feel comfortable in my own skin, which obviously means I intend to have surgery as soon as possible, which won't be soon at all but hey-ho. I don't really care about what people call me, or if they use the correct pronouns to address me. Although it would be nice if I am treated as a normal person, and not a total freak. It's unlikely to happen that way I'm sure I will face a certain amount prejudice and discrimination once I start transitioning because to be honest I am far from being a good looking man, so I'm not going to make an attractive woman. Although hopefully in time I will afford facial surgery which will help a lot.
So how do I know I should have been born female and not male? Well it's hard to explain because I've always known and so my memories are quite sketchy. My first recollection of something being not quite right was sometime shortly before I started school. I had a colouring book and on the cover was a little girl with long hair, wearing a yellow rain coat and carrying an umbrella. I was so fucking jealous of her, and I used to spend hours looking at that book and wishing I was her. Yes I know it was drawing, but I was about 4 OK? Now at that point I obviously knew boys and girls were different but I had no idea how, I didn't know the physical differences.
So my childhood? Well it wasn't exactly a barrel of laughs and I didn't have a wonderful perfect family like the Walton’s or something but it could have been worse. I have 3 sisters and a brother who are all much older than me 12+ years older in fact. I have never really felt able to turn to my family for help with this, we've never been a close unit that have shared our problems and talked about our feeligs or anything like that. So yes for a very long time I felt alone and confused. I was born with cerebral palsy which didn't help as I wasn't able to play the usual rough and tumble games kids play either so again I felt isolated from other children. Of course because I couldn't play rough games, I often ended up playing with the girls, which I enjoyed. I not really sure what happened but by the time I left the infants, this seemed to have been picked up on and I was discouraged and possibly even chastised for doing this and it was made clear I should play with the other boys and not the girls. No seriously, I can't remember most of this, but one thing I do remember, was one last day of term when you could take toys in. I took a plush bear in which was also a puppet(yes hand up the bum kind) and I was happily playing with some girls who had brought dolls and things in, and I remember the teacher taking it off me and making me go and play with the boys. I think that was the point where things became more confusing for me and I tried to suppress doing what I wanted in favour of doing what society said I should because I didn't want to get in trouble or be shouted at. I still didn't really know anything about how the genders were different. To me girls just wore different clothes, had long hair and played with different toys, but I had no idea why nor did I know why I connected better with them.
So I stumbled through junior school, not really knowing what these feelings were or why I had them. I'm not sure if at any point I ever did that 'LOL cute, I want to be a girl' thing that lots of kids do because they have vivid imaginations and it's just like saying I want to be a cat or something like that. I don't think I ever wanted girl’s toys, but that could have been because it was drummed into me by TV and everybody else. You are a boy you don't like My Little Pony, you like He-Man admittedly cartoon wise I watched both. I had He-Man and Thundercats toys but a lot of my favourite toys were the gender neutral ones. Board games, fuzzy felts playdough and Lego. I did have a Care Bear but of course I had Bedtime bear the one it was acceptable for boys to have, because it was blue and the TV advert had a boy with one.
Obviously next came high school, puberty and the realisation thinga were wrong. During puberty I began to resent and hate my body. I really neglected myself, and never received encouragement from my parents to sort myself out this just made thing worse and one of my regrets. I put on a lot of weight, and hardly cleaned my teeth and as the years passed I became too scared to see a dentist so my teeth are fucking horrible. Another thing on the list of things I need to face and overcome. A lot of my early teen years I don't remember much about. Yes I discovered wanking like any normal boy, but not in a normal way. I used to rub myself with my duvet while fantasising about being or turning into a girl. Basically if you name an attractive female character from a cartoon or TV show in the late 80s or early 90s chances are I've fantasised about being her.
During this time I first learned that changing gender was possible, but was frowned upon and ridiculed by society. Also I didn't relate to the people on the documentaries on TV. They were all old (at that time to me 45+ was old), and unfortunately didn't look much like women either, they were more made to be seen as objects of curiosity and ridicule. So I just carried on thinking thing would sort themselves out eventually and sooner or later I'd just be happy being male.
I don't really know how to describe my sexuality at this point. I certainly wasn't attracted to boys, but I didn’t really want to be WITH a girl either I just wanted to BE one. Eventually in my last year of high school I became very close to a girl and we started going out, for whatever that meant. I just really liked her company. Little did I know that this would become one of the most important relationships I would form with anybody in my life.
That’s it for now. It’s already tl;dr.
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