Please forgive me if my post is long as my story is quite an eventful one in which i want to share as a last epitaph which i hope will show why all of us should stay safe, while we also show the world that we just wish to be accepted for our hearts, soul & outward love of others.
I was born into a conservative type family who where loving and caring but who where all very anti-anything, racist, homophobic, transphobic and basically did not have time for anything that they believed not to be 'normal'.
From the age of 4 my mum now tells me that i used to cry each tine she pulled me away from girls clothes, dolls and girls toys in the shops. The only friend i had in my childhood was a neighbours daughter, same age as me who swapped clothes with me each day as soon as we went out to play. She ended up transitioning FtM.
I was hit most days by my father who caught me daily in my friends clothes but i carried on regardless until one day aged 14 i shouted at him "go on, get it over with if it makes you feel better". He stopped that day and never hit me again.
In school i was bullied and beaten by the other boys daily for being a 'puff'. I used to steal my sisters make up and put it on behind the gym with the help of my one and only friend who by now always had short hair and protected me. Each dinner hour we would swap uniforms and walk to the shops as our real selves. She used to love telling the shopkeeper that i was her sister
.
At 17 i went to London with my friend who was now living as a lad and he showed me clubs where i would be accepted for who i was, it was the start of my life i always say.
Being short at 5ft 6 and thin with luckily a feminine face, i was soon what they called then a 'face' or 'glamgirl' on the scene, a fully passable MtF and even straight guys chatted me up even though i insisted on telling them that i was transgender out of respect for the guys.
After a few months on the scene i was asked by a well known drag club performer and owner if i would be interested in doing a stint as he put it as a one off as he was looking for the most passable 'girls' to do a one off "woman or man?" show at his club. Nervously i said yes and on the night i was delighted when i got a full 'woman' from the crowd.
Moving on so as not to make this post even longer, i ended up as a well known performer doing the clubs in London, Manchester and Blackpool. I was happy for the first time in my life and during the day i was fully accepted and passed as just another girl going about her life. I was accepted for hormone therapy and i was doing what they called at that time 'the 2 year daily living' to be accepted for surgery
This is where a wrong turn down a road ended the happiness at just 20.
I had just finished a show in Manchester and i was looking for a taxi. None where free as it was a typical busy night in manchester and the clubs where just letting out. I started to take the short cut which i knew leaded to the taxi rank but was quite quiet along a back street.
Three men who looked to be about 30 and who had two girls with them walked by and stopped as i walked past.
One of the men asked me if would like to join them to a late club and i just shook my head politely saying no thank you.
The guy then started getting angry shouting stuff like 'stuck up cow' etc so i relaxed my female voice speaking in my male voice and explained that i was transgendered and that he would not want to be with 'one of me".
The guy then walked up and punched me in the face shouting queer, homo, the usual stuff and i fell to the ground where his mates joined in and started kicking and punching me while i put my arms over my face to protect my head.
The two girls ran off down the road where i found out later was to get the police.
During the attack, the men after punching and kicking stopped for a few seconds and after looking around one started to unbutton his jeans. At this point i knew what was coming next and started to scream as loud as i could. I was not gay even though i had a lot of gay friends, the beating was one thing but the next event (all three of them) which i will leave unsaid scarred me for my entire life up until this day.
After they had finished, one took his keys out that had a small knife attached and cut "MAN" into my cheeks and forehead. Later the doctors tried to minimise the scars but even with birth mark cover make-up, 2 of the 3 'mans' can still be seen.
After locking myself in a flat for the next couple of years and trying to understand and accept that my few years of happiness where over, i eventually captured the courage with the help of friends to face the world and it hurt so much to have to face it as the man i was never supposed to be.
The damage from the punches and kicks had long healed, the memory of the rapes had been accepted but never understood but the scars etched into my one pretty face meant that i could never return to being my true self.
I started to appreciate that my experience could be shared, i could help other transgendered people and i threw myself into a life to this day in which i am an adviser and support counselor for both FtM's and MtF's who are starting their transition and need advice.
I am so proud of all the people who i have helped over the years for having the strength to live as their real selves and i have made so many beautiful friends who i admire so much and love totally. If i could not be the woman i was born as, i was determined to help others become their true selves.
Sadly though, i have come to the point at which i can no longer pretend that everything is ok.
I can no longer look in the mirror accepting what happened and no longer do i want to see the scars of that one wrong turn down that one road.
I am not even sure why i decided to write this but i know why i wrote it here.
Susan's is one of the many shining beacons that i regularly point my wards at to learn from others who have transitioned or who are about to.
I just feel so tired of a life that should not have been and have started to think of ending the pain forever.
