It's funny really, when I was little, I used to pray to God to fix me, make me a normal little girl, of course he never did, even though I prayed for years and years.
As I got older though, things changed, I stopped praying to God to make me a normal girl. I stopped believing there even was a God. I mean, he was supposed to be all powerful, all knowing, all loving, but he still let bad things happen. He still punished people by sending them to Hell.
I still prayed though, I didn't know anything different, but instead of praying to be fixed, I prayed to God I wasn't even sure existed, to simply kill me. Give me cancer. My uncle got cancer, and he died. If I couldn't be fixed (I was smart enough to know I couldn't be) then the next best thing would be dying. And God seemed to be okay with people dying. And if you died of cancer, you got to go to heaven too. Not like if you killed yourself.
Of course, it never happened. I went through puberty. I became the "young man" I was supposed to be. And I gave up on God. Why not? He gave up on me. I couldn't even kill myself. It always went wrong. The rope broke. Someone knocked on the door. The car stopped. The bullies were all talk.
I was resigned to the fact that I was stuck here, like this, to suffer. There was no escape. Until one day, I was reading one of my grandmothers magazines (she used to keep them all) and there was an article about two girls. One of the girls used to be a boy, but she changed that, she took medication that changed that. That changed her.
It took me a long time to act on that. I even tried to be a "normal" man. Maybe all I needed was to find the right woman and all this would go away. Maybe I was just lonely. Maybe I wanted to be a woman because I thought no one could love me.
But after a few years, I realised that, whilst I loved my partner, she wasn't enough. She didn't, couldn't fill the void. I had to be me, I had to be female, or die trying. She didn't understand. She came to resent me. Hate me even. But in the end I had to try. I was willing to give up everything. And I very nearly did.
Fast forward a few years, and I did it. I became me. I am female. I am Sarah. Sure it's not perfect and it was hard, and painful, but I'm happier than ever before. I have a man that loves me, who even supported me through my surgery. I have my family. I have friends. I am happy, for the most part.
I have pain from my surgery still, but it's not as bad as the pain I felt in my heart before. I gave up the pain killers - that was hard - but with daily meditation, and the reminder that it could be worse, I get by. Even though I don't have a vagina now, at least I don't have a penis. At least everything looks right, down there.
Despite getting by, counting my blessings, I still wanted to live without the pain, so I found a specialist in vulval pain. She checked me out, ran some tests, and consulted with other professionals. Which brings me to today -
Sitting here, writing this, as I wait to find out what is wrong with me, what is causing the pain. Ironically, it's been narrowed down to two things, a skin condition that is permanent, that causes the over production of tissue, which is the leading cause of vulval cancer. Or, vulval cancer. Visually, one can't tell.
If it is the skin condition, I will be seeing my specialist every couple of months for the rest of my life for deep core tissue biopsies, to check for cancer. And if it is cancer, well, it's got about a 50% mortality rate, and a high probability that I will require a complete vulvecotomy, the surgical removal of my labia, clitoris, and lymph nodes, as well as possible surgeries on my bladder, bowel and prostate.
I know many will say I'm jumping the gun, that I might not have cancer, that I might be okay. But, I can't really explain it, other than to say that the feeling I had in my soul, or my gut or whatever you call it, the one that said I should have been born a girl. I have that feeling about the cancer. I just know. I can't explain it.
I can't tell anyone else, I tried talking to my partner, but he thinks I'm being premature. So for now I have to wait a few more days until I get my results and can go for the imaging. But I know.
It's funny really, I guess there is a God, right? And he was listening. He just had a huge backlog and he finally got round to answering me.
At least I got to be me for a while.
I know this seems like an attention seeking thing, but it's not, I'm not looking for anything, I just needed to write it down somewhere, I just needed to tell someone. You don't have to understand, or feel sorry for me, or even care. Most people probably won't even read this far.
I wouldn't change a thing though, you know? I wouldn't. These last few years have been the best years if my life, and I will not just give up, I will fight, but even if I lose, I'm glad I had these last few years.
