My Secret

I have never talked about my gender issues before – not to a therapist, Psychiatrist, or even a best friend.  It has been my secret… until now.

When I am writing about this, there is no emotion.  This is something that has not been an issue in my life for many years.  As a teenager, I obviously knew my sexuality was different and maybe there was an assumption that everyone who is gay also experiences gender identity confusion. 

Being a gay teenager in the 1970’s did pose its problems.  It is easy to imagine you are the only person in the world with sexuality/gender issues.  You grow up believing in the ignorant and disgusting stereotyped attitudes.  Sometimes, you actually find yourself participating in them, just to be a part of the crowd. 

Eventually, you have a private image of yourself that is “a vile and perverted homosexual… a queer, faggot, poof, pansy, a Nancy-boy and even a ‘botty’- basher, who has no rightful place in this world”. 

When there is religion thrown in, it just adds a whole load of hell and damnation. 

We cannot change some of the things on the inside, but there is some control over what we allow other people to see.  I watched a documentary on gender change recently.  The people I could identify with the most, were the ‘female-to-male’ gender change. 

Learning to become a male – to walk, talk and act like a man, is not easy.  This goes against the grain and it takes years to perfect.  Today, there is nothing about me that is feminine or camp – I’m just your average-masculine-kinda-male. 

I’m not even sure if I would want to be a woman now.  There is no inclination to dress in women’s clothes, but there is peace with the ‘all-feminine’ on the inside.   This was not always the way…

“Butching-up” my act came at a price.  This afternoon I wonder… did I ever really recover?  How could I have come to terms with the school bullying, name-calling, the stinking vile attitudes (that I believed), or the ridicule and out-right discrimination? 

In the last few days, something does not feel right.  The darkest depressions always start with intense agitation and apathy. 

Is this gender issue the real reason why I have never been comfortable in my own skin?  Why I feel so awkward and out of place?  Did I ever come to terms with the loss of my gender and the painful experiences that ensued?  Does the disappointment, anger, and the guilt still permeate my life today? 

Mmmmm….