So today is the Trans Day of Visibility. I'm already expecting some people are rolling their eyes and preparing nasty comments about how trans is evil or whatnot. I'm not really going to engage in any arguments with transphobes, I'll just block you. But I do want to share a little about my own journey, and whilst it's not going to be something that's true for every trans person it's true to me.
I never knew I was trans when I was a kid. There are some people that do, and there are some that don't figure it out until later in life. Both are valid, there's no set rules to things like that. That being said, looking back at it now I really should have know, because the signs were all there. I guess I just thought it was stuff that everyone felt or thought about.
When I was a kid I wanted to be a girl. I hated that I was a boy. I'd go to sleep at night hoping that somehow I'd magically wake up as a girl the next day, that some kind of fairy godmother would make it happen. I didn't know why I wanted this, I just knew that it would make me really happy.
I wanted it so bad I'd do those things like wish upon a falling star, or wish upon the first start you see that night, and it would always, 100% of the time be that wish. Some nights I even cried myself to sleep wishing it.
When my teen years came part of me hated that I had to hang out with boys. Don't get me wrong, a lot of close friends have been male, and I know that there's no rules that say you have to only have certain types of friends, but this was late 90's Britain, we weren't great at breaking gender stereotypes and norms. Hell, section 28 wasn't repealed until my mid teens, and we're still dealing with the effect that's had 20 years later.
Puberty was the worst for me too. I hated the changes that were happening to me. As my body became more and more 'male' I despised it. This was when my depression really started. I used to want to die. I literally didn't care if I lived anymore. I'd not want to take care of myself. I'd hurt myself. I'd have to stop myself from stepping into traffic because I hated who I was and wanted it to end.
These feelings continued into my twenties, and it was only through medication, self harm, and repression that I was able to keep going; but even then I was absolutely miserable. This misery and these explainable feelings made some friendships hard for me, and romantic relationships were just impossible. I feel so utterly alone.
Then one day I suddenly knew what was wrong with me. It wasn't a gradual realisation, it was like a switch going off in my head. I knew what trans people were, I'd looked into it as a 'just curious to learn' thing, and never thought it was related to me.
I was doing something completely normal, packing away some laundry, when a voice in my head suddenly said 'your trans'. It stopped me in my tracks. I suddenly knew why I'd been suffering for so long. I knew why I was miserable. I knew why I wanted to die. I knew it was right.
I fell to the floor and wept, for hours. I knew what was going on, but I had no idea what that meant. I didn't know what I was supposed to do next, how knowing this helped me. I was convinced that there was going to be nothing that I could do, no way that I'd be able to actually transition. And I felt in my heart that even if I tried I'd never be seen as anything more than an ugly freak, worthy of ridicule and scorn, because that's what society had told me trans people deserved.
But, I knew I had to do something, so I started to do some research online. I found some forums hosted by trans people, where I was able to go through and read what others had gone through and learn more. I made some friends, so incredibly kind and patient women who didn't mind taking me under their wing and helping me out. But ultimately I knew that this was something that I was going to have to one day do something about, and that meant telling the people in my life.
So one day I made up my mind to tell a friend of mine. I picked him because I trusted him, because he'd trusted me with the information that be was bi, something he'd never told any of his friends before (don't worry, he's open about it now so I'm not outing anyone by saying this). We were just hanging out one night, watching Alien, when I told him. I don't know how long it went on for, how long I was fighting through the tears to get the words out, but I started telling him at the opening credits and when I was done the facehugger was on John Hurt, so it was at least an hour.
But in that hour he listened. He was patient. He showed me a kindness I never thought I'd get from saying those words. And when I was done we just carried on hanging out and restarted the movie. He was the first person in my life to make me feel normal, that this thing inside me wasn't something that was going to destroy my life.
After that I knew that I had to tell my family. I chose to tell my mother first. I'm close with her, and I thought that she would be the most understanding. She was surprised by the news, but she was supportive. She asked me to go see my doctor, to make sure that I was right, and if so, get whatever help I needed.
This started a long process of actually getting treatment, something that I thought was never going to happen. My doctor, as good as he was, wasn't really sure how to help me, but sent me to a counsellor to talk through what I was going through. I knew that you had to get evaluated by mental health professionals before you got sent to the Gender Clinic, so was prepared for something like this. Over the next year I went to meetings and spoke to a woman with no experience of trans people about what I was going through. After that year she told me that I didn't need to see her anymore. I asked her if this meant I was moving on to the Gender Clinic she had no idea what I meant. You see, she wasn't part of that process, I'd just been sent to her to talk through my feelings in hopes that they would just go away.
I went back to my doctor and asked him to please send me to the Gender Clinic, and he informed me that I would have to go for a mental health evaluation first, and that the whole thing could take a few years still. This was the point where I felt at my lowest.
I knew what I needed to do, what needed to happen to make myself better, to actually be me and be happy, and it wasn't happening. Knowing that I was trans didn't make the mystery depression go away, if anything knowing I was trans and being unable to anything about it made it worse. I went into the deepest depression I'd ever had. That's when I tried to kill myself. Twice. Thankfully, I never managed it, and somehow kept going; and a year later I finally got that appointment and eventually my referral to the Gender Clinic.
Another year later and I'd convinced the staff at the Gender Clinic I was actually trans, and got prescribed my hormones. I was on my way to actually being me. It was also in this time that I began to tell others, that other friends found out what was happening. I knew that as I was starting treatment I couldn't keep it secret forever, and that I wanted my friends to know the real me. For the most part this went well, and the people I actually lost from my life weren't real friends anyway. I even made new friends through hose that stuck around, and even though these people met me when I was presenting as male, before I'd begun my treatment, they accepted me as female. They still called me Amy.
Things started to get better. The HRT saw me go through changes, and I started to feel more like who I was meant to be. I was happy. But, things still weren't perfect. I'd still get nasty comments. I'd get spat on in the street, threatened with physical violence, rape, and even death. People saw me and thought that it gave them free reign to be vile towards me.
This was the worst at my job. I'd been there for a few years, knowing that eventually I was going to socially transition and that it was going to be something I'd have to bring up eventually; but it wasn't something I was rushing to tell them. This was in part thanks to having seen the management team mercilessly mock a trans customer one day, and seeing the rampant homophobia they exhibited towards some of the staff.
One day I came into work and one of the girls there told me that one of the other managers had told her something about me, that I 'like to call myself Amy and dress as a woman at night for sexual thrills'. It turns out the guy who told her this was a friend of one of those people who walked away from me for being trans, and was busy spreading rumours around the workplace about me. This put me in a position I wasn't ready for. After a discussion with the manager, who didn't think he could actually do anything about it as my colleague was 'just gossiping', I made the choice to have to out myself to the rest of the staff. This guy was spreading rumours, and god knows who knew what, so I thought making it clear to everyone what was happening was the best thing.
I prepared a statement, but I couldn't do it. It was just too frightening. Luckily, a friend there, who knew what was going on, stepped in and read it out for me whilst I had a panic attack in the office. It would have been better if I'd done it myself, but I couldn't face that; and the management team who said they would support me had just not turned up, so I was left with little choice. Thankfully, this seemed to put things to bed for a while and stuff got better, and the majority of people were supportive, even if the manager wasn't. I was told the company were concerned with what customers would think them having a trans person in a leadership position, and how they were prepared to go against the Equality Act because they didn't agree that I should be permitted certain rights.
When the manager changed and a new one came in thing got even worse. All the staff were called in to work extra after hours one Sunday. I was away from home that weekend, visiting my new partners, so was presenting as the real me. This meant when I had to go in to work I wasn't going to be able to change first, and that most of the people there would be seeing the real me for the first time. This was fine with most of the people there, and no one made a thing of it; but the new manager was furious about it.
A week later I arrived to work and was immediately dragged into the office, where I was presented with three charges of gross misconduct and suspended. I was completely shocked, and I was afraid for my job. Without my job I wouldn't be able to keep my home. Luckily my partners had me come and stay with them, and I prepared to argue my case.
I managed to get two of the charges dropped, but the third stuck; so I lost my job. Despite it being conducted by another manager my store manager was interfering with proceedings, and told the man in charge to fire me. So I was fired. No more job.
This event broke me. I felt like I was losing everything to a manager who was being openly hateful because I was trans. But, like I said, I had some good support, and my partners took care of me. They helped me find a temporary job in another town where they lived, and I went to stay with them. This was when I began a long legal battle against my former employer. I collected information from their records that showed I was systematically abused and discriminated against, and it was only when they finally got their court summons that they finally stopped going on the attack and listened to me. The head of HR for the company (a very large company) met with me and admitted that I was discriminated again, that my life had been smashed to pieces because one man hated what I was. I could have taken things further at that point, pushed for more legal action, but I was so ill because of it I just wanted it over.
From that day things got better for me. In moving out of my old place into a new town I realised that my small hometown had some very small town minds, and that the amount of transphobia I was experiencing there wasn't right. I moved to a place that was more diverse, and the level of abuse I went through dropped.
That being said, I still receive almost constant harassment online, abuse and threats, simply for being trans. I normally block these people and try to ignore it, but it's a struggle all the time. And that's just those I can block out. You can't block out people screaming at you in the street, the constant anti-trans press coverage, or the government 'debating' your rights to exist.
In the almost a decade of being trans I've lost friends. I've received abuse. I've had nasty comments from medical professionals. I've lost jobs. I've had to fight for my rights. I've been close to ending my life because of how awful things have been. But despite all of this, I know that my journey, my experiences have been far from the worst. I've been incredibly lucky to have the amount of support and love I do from those around me.
Other people aren't as lucky. They don't have friends and family to stand by them. They don't have a secure home. They don't get to have treatment because the waiting lists are so long.
I'm not entirely sure why I've told you all this, why my story even matters. I don't expect it to change any minds or win over any bigots. But I hope that it shows some people how difficult it is for trans people, and how every single difficulty I've been through, all the challenges and pain, comes from the fact that society has been taught to hate trans people; that our suffering is fine. Things are getting better for trans people generally, there's more understanding for us, and more people are getting support; but there's also more open hate now too.
So please, stand up for the trans people in your lives. For your friends and family. Even if you don't think you have trans people in your life the chances are good that you do know one, that someone you care about is trans, or cares for someone who is. You could have a child that turns out to be trans. I know that you don't want the people that you care about to suffer, you don't want them to experience hate, to feel that the only way to escape the constant pain is to take their own life. So please, even if you don't think you have trans people in your lives, challenge transphobia, call out hate, and push for trans equality because believe me, it will help save lives.
No comments:
Post a Comment