I will never forget that awful feeling on hearing the worst news of my life. I was turning 5 years old. It was the summer of 1968, just prior to starting primary school. The shocking truth sank to the pit of my stomach.
I am too young to understand the full magnitude of her statement – no way of knowing the great loss that would impregnate my life forever. Something told me, what is deep in my soul needs to change into something else.
A few years ago, this memory came as a vivid flashback. Someone had written a book – it was not exactly about me, but it tells a story from my perspective.
It was the author’s description of me that hit hard. How can a few simple words have such a profound effect? He wrote…
“The man I met in London in September 2009 was not physically remarkable in any way – your Mr average-male”
Those words made me feel a fraud. They do not depict my true identity.
Our parent’s behaviour could be volatile to our childhood antics, I had developed an uncanny knack of interpreting their facial expressions to judge the mood and determine our safety. I search Mum’s face as she stands at the kitchen sink preparing food. There are no signs of joviality or anger.
Mum must have noticed my struggle to absorb what she said. This time, her tone and 
expression becomes an instruction that would turn my life on its head.
“You are NOT a little girl….”
My Travels with Depression 
May I offer a virtual hug? Parents damage children in so many ways. I sometimes wonder how any of us survive. I am sorry for your mother’s harsh words and her ignorance,
LikeLike
Ah!…hug accepted, thank you.
LikeLike
“Lazy” words can be so devastating! Too often there is an undercurrent that stabs the soul! Sometimes ignorance does not deliver bliss to the receiver. A sad tale.
LikeLike
There is so much prejudice surrounding gender issues and back in the 60’s I suppose there was a lot more ignorance. That certainly doesn’t excuse badly chosen words…
Thanks for commenting, appreciated!
LikeLike
😦 I’m sorry you didn’t get to be a little girl. But, you can allow yourself to be a little girl or woman now -even if it’s only inside your heart and mind. Of course, I have a little nephew and I’m finding out little boys are pretty darn cool too. 🙂 Whether you see yourself as man, woman, boy, girl, both or neither, it’s all okay. Whether you show the world Mr. average-man and keep a female side of you private or vise versa, it’s okay. You seem like a nice person and that’s what matters most! (hugs) ~rl
LikeLike
That is sweet Rl and very spot on. Outwardly, people see an average bloke, not in the slightest “effeminate”….however, underneath is mostly all female and I have learned to be at peace with that… I think!
LikeLike
Hi there, that does sound like a very painful memory for you, especially from someone so close at such an age as well. I hope your weekend isn’t too bad so far. Best wishes
LikeLike
Thank you..There were more painful issues to follow, but that’s another post!
I have been enjoying your blog!
LikeLike
This post makes my heart ache, because I can see a dark seed being planted which will take a lifetime to bloom, and that makes me sad.
LikeLike
You have a wonderful way with words, frank
“a dark seed being planted which will take a lifetime to bloom”
Indeed true! Thanks for dropping by to read and comment
LikeLike
I may not always comment, but I always read and ponder your words, my friend. Thank you for the compliment.
LikeLike
You are *you*. Intelligent, caring, witty, with a flat-out, drop-dead gorgeous soul that we can all see from afar. Even after everything you’ve been through, the beauty of who *you* are cannot be diminished. Even in your darkest, saddest moments, the you that *you* are still shines. It’s hard to forgive and even harder to forget sometimes. But maybe, just maybe, forgiveness doesn’t mean acceptance; forgiveness means letting go. Toss it away and even if you’re successful for one moment, that’s one moment that nobody else can own or usurp. That means that in that moment, you forgot the pain and the struggle and remembered only to see what we see: you. In all of your perfection and beauty.
❤
LikeLike
Dharma…. Such a lovely comment, thanks. I’m working on the forgiveness, but at a loss over how we “let go”. A quote I read recently said
“Letting go is not getting rid of, letting go is letting Be”
LikeLike
I have been struggling with the same thing Cat. I don’t know what the answer is, but I know when I first experienced it – and then it happened again.
My expectations were low so I thought it’d never come back, but it did. /laughing!
Personal resonance with guidance we receive in various forms is filtered by us but sometimes something unforeseen clicks. It may seem random at the time but looking back, it usually isn’t. [I both love and hate that part LOL!]
LikeLike
I’m several years older than you are and I remember being in school, although I cannot remember the exact grade it was an early one, and the person with whom I shared a desk naturally reached for a pencil with her left hand and began to use it. The teacher came over with a “No, no,” and took the pencil out of the little girl’s left hand, placed it in her right hand and wrapped her little fingers around it. She then pressed the pencil down onto the paper and said, “This is the proper way to write.” She could have said “draw,” because I’m not certain what we were doing. The “what” isn’t as memorable or as scary as the actions of the teacher, the total look of bewilderment upon the face of a girl I didn’t yet know and the fear it caused to rise up in me that I was never to use my left hand or I’d be reprimanded and if my dad ever found out I’d been reprimanded by the teacher, I’d be beaten for it.
Thank God they no longer force a naturally, God-gifted child to use the “proper” hand with which to write — at least in my country. Unfortunately there will always be adults who will tell children to not be who they naturally are.
Isn’t it funny how a parent’s expression can resonate in one’s soul so many decades later?!? We do such harm to each other without even being aware of it!! God forgive us!!
LikeLike
When I was at school in Scotland, teachers would smack the children on their hands with a specially made leather belt (called a tawse). I have seen many children beaten with a belt for using their left hand to write
LikeLike
Well done on your courage to start sharing this issue, Cat. As you know I can understand where you’re coming from with this. With support and empathy, Borderlion x
LikeLike
Many thanks Borderlion… that does mean a great deal…. you were the inspiration!
LikeLike