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I am quite comfortable about my old pictures - there are few that exist. Hey, that was me; I went through a lot of experiences and came out okay. Yeh, I hate that last male picture (1981) because it is the only most-male of all old pictures.
Yes, my sadness comes because I also have no photographs of me as a girl during childhood or teen years though many people (my 'Team Sharon' doctors and counsellors over the years) who see pictures of the younger me actually tell me that they see a girl, not a boy. I tried taking a 'selfie' (years ago as a child before that term existed) of me in my sister's clothes but the pictures did not come out well.
My dad took photographs of my sister and me getting autographs following a music performance (1973). When he showed them to family, they said the one with my sister looked nice but wanted to know why he took pictures of a stranger girl and none of me. Yep, I appeared very much female in that photograph. I have not seen that picture in ages and I suspect my dad destroyed it because of those reactions.
My picture appears only basically in high school yearbooks - for example, only my class portrait for 9th Grade. By 12th Grade, the book was printed with my face in the seam in the only picture other than the portrait.
Maybe because I had no operations other than my version of GCS for my inter-sex condition, the face and body of the person I see is the same me rather than one altered by FFS, BA, or other procedures.
Nor was I excessively insistent that people use my new name. Sure, I knew all about me and my family did, too, since my earliest childhood, but I accepted giving them time. Eventually, I perceived that family who used my new name did so with derision whereas my dad was among the few who never did use my new name, but at least he used my old name respectfully.
I recall well the few 'before' pictures that remain in existence; I can look at my old photographs, get nostalgic, remember every detail about that picture and that time, have a good cry, address my male predecessor as my former name, and talk to my old self. We came out okay after all. I don't deny my former me, in some ways I embrace my old me for having endured and survived - for having done so much and gone so far.
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