There are times, even now after a lifetime , when I could often just sit down and weep because of my sadness and frustration at not being able to express myself openly. By Lynne Blythe

Prologue

The differences in the meaning of certain words should be first understood before this is read.

A transvestite is someone who wears the clothes of the opposite sex for sexual satisfaction and/or for florid display where the observer is required to understand that he is looking at a person whose physical body is different from that which it appears to be.

A transsexual is a person who is convinced that he/she is of one gender trapped in the body of the other gender. He/she has the intention of undergoing surgical re-adjustment to correct what is a conceived error.

A transgenderist is someone quite like a transsexual, i.e. he/she is certain that he/she is of one gender trapped in the body of the opposite gender but with little or no intention of undergoing re-adjustment surgery.

Sex and gender - these two words are greatly misunderstood. Sex is the physical body and is incontrovertible. Gender is what a person feels himself/herself to be mentally and sub-consiously. The feelings of gender are difficult to understand but, to the transgenderist, they are very strong.

I am a transgenderist.

My Thoughts about myself

These feelings were apparent to me at a very early age, as far back as my memory goes. I was only a very little boy, long before I went to school, when I knew without doubt that I should be a girl. I knew without doubt that I should be playing with the girls and not with the boys. I knew that I wanted to have dolls and prams and not lorries and guns etc., as my toys. I knew that I should be wearing dresses and not the clumsy, ugly clothes that boys have to wear. I could not understand it.

I had an aunt living close to us who really did not help my situation as she often remarked, in my hearing, "Teddy is too pretty to be a boy, he should have been a girl!". It was nice to hear but no-one seemed to agree with her except me and I could not talk about it.

I could not understand these feelings but, at the same time, I was unable to talk about them as boys are all supposed to be tough and boyish, whereas I had none of those feelings and certainly did not want to be tough and boyish, No! I wanted to be frivolous and girlish.

And pretty.

But none of these feelings helped to make me what I felt was right, I still had a boy's body, I still did not feel at ease with other boys, the girls did not want me to mix with them and I began the feelings of my entire life - loneliness! At times, and still to this day, I feel incredibly lonely with no-one with whom I can talk freely and who would understand my feelings.

There are times, even now after a lifetime , when I could often just sit down and weep because of my sadness and frustration at not being able to express myself openly.

And so my life fell into a sort of pattern, I could not unburden myself to my Mother or my sister; I had no common bond with other boys; I felt that I had a bond with girls, but in their eyes I was a boy and they did not accept me.