At 25 in England,
I decided I couldn't hide away anymore.
Put on that sole surviving item from the last purge, that I couldn't bring myself to get rid of.
Walked through my living room. (Wearing a mans T-shirt Size nine steal toe boots and a white ruffle skirt)
I looked hilarious. Saw the shock on my Dads face. Before He could say anything, I spoke "Its only going to get worse"
Poor choice of words I know but that's what happened.
That night, I ordered a new set of clothes and made an appointment with my GP doctor, with intent to wear at least in the house. I Never wore that skirt again.
Took me three days to tell me dad. Each day seeing I was upset my dad would ask me whats up, I couldn't Tell him, It was on the third day, that I finally said, it was because he didn't know who I was. He said, yes I do, you my son and I love you, On hearing son I broke down, That's just it dad, you don't. He asked me if I meant I wanted to be his daughter, I told him I already am.
The day after was the day of the appointment with my doctor, And that morning I got lucky, every single piece of that outfit I bought arrived AND every piece fit me perfectly. I went to my doctors wearing it. I got there and said, I want a sex change. (That was the only thing I thought I could do). Anyway He made me an appointment with a specialist. Before I came Home, I went into a store and for the first time bought some clothes in person. A few new tops and a pair of jeans. (Told myself if I cant go to a store like this, when I'm already out and about how will I ever leave the house to go shopping)
I spent most of the time between the appointments, coming out to the rest of my family, and going to see the only friends I had, (An entire Family) I spent the week at their house as is usually the case. And went shopping with the mother, she had two boys and had always wanted a daughter, so she loved the chance to go and have a girly day.
Upon receiving a notification for the second appointment, I was reminded It was time to go home, When I got of the bus however, something unusual happened. My dad was waiting for me, it's good to see you, welcome home, I've been worried about you. My dad complimented me on my clothes, said "I didn't look like a ->-bleeped-<-" I said that was probably because i'm not, then stuck my tongue out at him. We laughed had a catch up of my trip.
I went to the second appointment, they diagnosed me as transgender (Although I wasn't paying full attention, too busy building up the courage to go shopping on the way home) Anyway, Less then a week later, I got a letter from the GIC, i read that letter and my heart sang. That was were I first noticed that there was a word for what I was going through.
"Transgender" It also told me about a waiting list, because of the amount of people they had to process.
Those two things validated me, I wasn't the only person being processed? Thousand of people on a waiting list? Their is a word for it? My having the wrong gender wasn't so strange anymore. The rest of my story Is written in a blog written about me and where i work for pride. Its in people news here
Now I'm doing the thing I have always done, just not hiding myself anymore. Feels so good not living what feels like a lie.
