How It Started For Me

By opening the box and letting a little out, I thought I could control things in my head. I don’t think I can, the floodgates are opening and I need to tell more, to tell all, I need to relieve the years I’ve spent bottling this up inside, I feel like a pressure cooker that’s about to explode.

As I may have mentioned my earliest thoughts of this were around the age of 8. I watched a kid’s fantasy film where the heroine was kidnapped by a powerful wizard and was slowly being transformed into a witch. All I can remember was how beautiful she was and how I wanted to be like her, no to be her.

When this had ended I snuck away upstairs out of sight, I went into my mother’s room and attempted to dress and look, like the girl. I stood in front of the mirror, thinking this is who I want to be. I was scared in case I was caught so this ended quickly and I went back downstairs. Looking back this was my first experience of who I am.

As I grew I would get other occurrences of similar thoughts prompted by book or film, me identifying with the female characters, wanting to dress and be like them, wanting to be them. Wanting to play with the girls rather than boys.

This was compounded around 10 or 11 when seeing early sex education programs and books, about babies and how they’re made. I felt the desire then, the yearning that would grow through my teens, I wanted to be a girl, I wanted to grow into a woman and have babies, and it wasn’t fair that I’d been born a boy.

Arriving at a new school at the age of 12, I thought I’d gone to hell. My first years there were horrible, in one word bullying. I didn’t know why I was singled out; I must have been considered different. I was quiet withdrawn, gentle in comparison with the other boys in my class; they had only one thing to call me GAY. The cruel taunts went on for what seemed like eternity, resulting in plenty of time at home faking sickness, sometimes for weeks on end. Now I knew what gay was but I’m not and have never been gay. I was a girl inside a boy’s body but my thoughts were always buried deep away from anyone.

I survived school; things got better slowly the bullies moved on. Torture began in a different way. I watched the girls grow and develop with a fascination through school; it was the usual things, breasts, bras, hormones, some falling pregnant under age. They had all these things happening to them, IT WASN’T FAIR I wanted to be a girl and have these things happen to me.

To compensate for this I retreated into myself, my own little world, few or no friends. In my bedroom on my own I read I watched TV in secret, anything to help me feel female, and fantasised that if I thought and wanted this hard enough I’d just change or something like that. Obviously this couldn’t happen but it was a comfort to me. Similar thinking has helped me through all the times this has bubbled to the surface, my own sad fantasy world that nobody knew about or understood till now.
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Jan 18, 2013