By Melody Griffiths
Have you ever been thinking about something, but the next moment forgotten what it was you were thinking about? Alot of us do, and we usually just shrug our shoulders, and go on with the business at hand. Sometimes, though, when our forgetfulness centers around one topic or concept, it becomes something more. Something called denial.
This is "my story" (no, not that one!)... and, dear reader, before you groan and sigh: "Not another one of those I-knew-I-was-a-girl-since-I-was-2 things," let me assure you mine is different. I give you a look on the mental workings of a young transsexual, who utterly refused to accept they were one.
I was raised in a very caring family, by two young parents (who had me in their teens) who, despite serious financial problems did the best they could for me. I had one brother, and a dog, and tried my best to be the best son my parents could ever have.
And, in the beginning, I suceeded. I was smart -- in enriched academic programs since I was in grade 4 I was able to understand even my parents university science classes when I sat in on them. My teachers had very high hopes for me, that I was going to become the next child prodigy, and astound the world.
If it wasn't for a little pesky problem.
Now, about 10 is when boys and girls really start to notice they have differences, and develop on them. Up until then, I was just fine. An effeminate boy, but this is no crime, at least as a young child. All my best friends were girls, we did girl things, played girl games... but soon they started to realize what I didn't want to, that we were different.
My friends started to fall normally into their roles, that boys must learn to act like boys, and girls like girls. This was the first course in my life I abysmally failed. I became trapped in a netherworld, neither boy nor girl. But I had to go on.
Have you ever been so scared of something, what might happen, what you've done, *who you are* that you went into permanent shock?
So, I struggled through. Physically and mentally abused by my classmates through elementary and junior high-school, I did my best to maintain my academics, but one day I decided I had enough, and I wanted the abuse to end.
I decided to try being a boy, and simultaneously my life started to fall apart.
I was never able to escape the abuse from those who knew me before, but I at least was able to avoid any new antagonists from appearing. I grew what facial hair I could, wore plain, boring clothes, and grew my hair long -- becoming a typically grungy teenage male. But with this degredation in my appearance, and my self-image into the realm of what I wasn't, came the destruction of my self-confidence, my initiative, and all drive whatsoever. My marks totally dropped.
Thoughts can be more than fleeting, they can be squashed.
I tried dating girls. This did not go over very well, I was coveting what they were for what I felt I should have been, and the relationships weren't "right" -- I wanted what they wanted. I had a girl tell me once that I made her feel like a lesbian, and the relationship couldn't work that way.
She was right. I started thinking, was I gay? So, I tried that. I discovered that I really was oriented towards males, but gay relationships are different from heterosexual ones -- mano a mano and all that stuff. And what I wanted was to be a girl in a heterosexual relationship, which a gay relationship was really nothing like. I gave up, and became asexual.
Anyhow, the earliest I can trace back that I *knew* I was female was when I was about 12. Nothing spectacular, just that I was with a girlfriend of mine and I realized that our kinship was different from a boy-girl relationship, it was a girl-girl relationship.
I started seriously considering I was female when I was around 14, knew for certain I wanted to be that physically by 16, and it started to consume me. I was unable to concentrate on anything, and bombed right out of school.
Remember how I said thoughts are fleeting? Sometimes, when a mind is so utterly filled with a concept that it can't function anymore, it does what is in its best interest, and forgets the concept.
So, I forgot. Everything that related to my "fetish" I was a girl was thrown "in the closet". And every new thought would be surpressed as soon as I thought of something else.
This works well for memories, or things in the past. But when the thoughts are the result of an inherent condition, one that is always there, it never goes away. So, with my mind busy doing constant damage control, my concentration was shot all to hell.
I eventually managed to struggle through and graduate, and even tried a year of college. But, at the end of 1994, I couldn't manage it anymore. I was living in a twilight zone, forgetting almost half of my thoughts, sweeping them away. I had no form, no substance, no real existence. I felt as insubstantial as a ghost, wandering in a society where I didn't "fit" - the body of a boy and the mind of a girl.
So, I broke down and fled. I went for a trip to a very nice place called Banff, and after alot of introspection and meditation there, the walls came down. And I fully realized who I was, and that I needed to do something about it.
But I still wasn't aware of what I was. I knew I was female, at least in my mind. But I didn't know anything I could do about it. I thought I was alone in the universe, a one-in-a-million freak destined to live a miserable life.
"Hey!" you cry, "you mean you hadn't even HEARD of transsexuals before?"
Of course I had, what did you think I was doing, living in the Congo or something? But... have you ever had a situation where your brain put 2 and 2 together and *couldn't* come up with 4? That is, you *know* what something is, but you just can't place it? ("I know what that is... it's a... a... damn! I can't remember!" It's a real bummer when you're playing Trivial Pursuit.
Well, my brain didn't put my feelings and what I knew about transsexualism together. I don't know why. I know now it's obvious, and all I can assume was it was another attempt at denial. I mean, let's face it, the definition of transsexualism I had been raised by society to have wasn't very accurate, and it didn't help that I was making it seem as evil and "not-me" as possible so I didn't have to deal with it. So, even though I knew I was a girl, inside, I still didn't realize there was anything I could do about it.
Back to my hometown. Started drinking. Every day. Fell into depression. Then one night I was working out ways to kill myself. I started crying. A voice came out of a corner of my mind...
"Am I a transsexual?"
Am I a what? Never thought about that. Wait a minute... On the Internet. Searching. Found it hard to find anything that said I *wasn't*. Practical to change, been done a million times before. And the risks... eminently acceptable risks. Days. More information. Must make sure this is right. But deep down in my heart I knew it was.
"I am transsexual."
At that moment my life changed dramatically, and I hope it's starting to straighten itself out. I am now 21, and I have been on hormone therapy since August of last year. I plan on starting RLT in a couple of months, when I move out of my parents house (who, thankfully, have been *very* supportive of their daughters situation...) I won't bore you with the typical first-time-out and crying parts (I'm happy I can cry now...) but I can assure you I'm enjoying every minute of it, ups and downs, even though it sometimes drives my friends and parents crazy... :)
I am becoming Melody, a young woman who actually knows who she is. Now, I'm alive. And, believe me, I'm very happy, and I'm busily planning out my new life -- the life I never thought I could have. A career, dating, marriage, adopting children, those sorts of things. I hope I make it there.
I know all that my mind tried to cover up now, and it all makes sense. But, it never ceases to amaze me what the mind is capable of. Sure, you may think you have all your marbles -- but who holds the bag? And would you ever know if the marbles were removed, or mixed around?
Psychology, gotta love it :)