Repressed Memories of Non-conforming Outbursts, and why I never told my therapists I felt Wrong.

I'm crying as I write this. These memories that flood back into my head. From days gone by, long ago forgotten as if they were dead.

When I was younger, there were lots of minor events that I may have completely forgotten. Lately those memories have been bubbling back to the surface, screaming for me to tell my story.


When I was young I was physically discouraged by my Father in acting on any of the urges I had bubbling up inside of me. Now that I've come out to him, he acts like these actions I did never happened and negated that I ever acted "trans."


When I was extremely young, probably around 3 or 4, I would love to jump into my mothers heels if left out in the public area of the house and squeal as loud as I could. "I'm mommy now!" then proceed to dance and prance around the house as fast as I could laughing as the shoes clack clacked on the tile. This seemed relatively harmless to my parents at the time, but I think it signaled and gave warning to a possible future that neither really anticipated. One day while performing this ritual of mine, my dad stopped me, told me I was to old to do that and lift me out of them and take them back to hide in their room. After that I never saw my moms heels laying out around the house anymore.

When I was 5 or 6, I would start refusing to wear underwear or pants, wearing my long PJ shirts around the house unless I felt sick. My mother would reprimand me and ask me why I wasn't wearing pants. But I couldn't respond as to why. I still didn't understand what it meant. I didn't understand why the tighty whities my parents bought me felt wrong. Then, one day, my mom accidentally mixed a pair of her white silk undies in with my own laundry. I had never felt silk before. It was a strange sensation, It was comfy, soft, it was shaped like my underwear, I didn't know what they were, so I pulled them on. They fit me perfectly and suddenly I realized... I felt comfortable. When it was found out that I was wearing a pair of her underwear I was yelled at and they were taken from me, and I was bought a set of boxers with bright colors so they wouldn't get confused with girls underwear anymore...

Around that same time I started hanging out with my neighbors kid a lot, She was awesome, she had a Sega Genesis and lots of barbies. When we'd go over to her house my brother would end up on her Sega while me and her played with her barbies. When I'd get home, I'd some times sneak into my sisters stuff which we had at the house that was loads of barbies and I'd play with it there. One day my dad found me playing with my friend and her barbies and smacked my head. "Barbies are for girls, come on lets go home." I never asked for a barbie that Christmas, though I really wanted one...

Later when I started attending 3rd grade, after moving from the north side of town to the south side of town, I had a teacher who was loud, eccentric, and to be honest, quite awesome. Every now and then, when we were at recess, or having a quite period after lunch, she would be painting her fingernails and sometimes even her toenails. I would come up and ask her why she painted her nails, she said it made her feel pretty. I blushed and would ask "Can you paint my nails too?" and would giggle when she'd smile and paint my nails for me. When I'd get home, my Dad would be furious. And would insist on holding me down and taking a scour brush to my fingernails with paint thinner. This was probably one of the most humiliating things I ever had done to me, I cried while he did it, then hid in my room afterwards. I think this was the first time I actually hid behind my bed and pulled the top mattress back so it covered me in darkness.

 Later in my elementary school days we went to the mall for a field trip. While there I made a stop at piercing pagoda and a few of the jewelry stores with the girls I was friends with, My entire schooling history I had more female friends then male friends. When I told one of them I was jealous because they were allowed to have their ears pierced and I wasn't one of them dropped a small packet in my hand. It was magnetic earrings. Just studs, but magnetic non the less. I bought them instantly.

I put them on and went and stared at myself in the mirror for the longest time. Not understanding the feelings I had. Or why I felt so comfortable and awesome. I went home with them still on, After having them on for over 5 hours, I had gotten used to the feel of them in my ears and had forgotten they were in when my dad came home. It didn't take long till he saw and noticed them, his face instantly turning red as he rushed me. Screaming obscenities about how dare I get my ears pierced, I tried to tell him they were not pierced but before I could he reached up and grabbed my ears yanking as hard as he could. When the magnetic jewelry collapsed in his hands and he realized he hadn't just torn metal from my flesh and I was unharmed he got angrier and grabbed me and started beating me. I cried. not because he beat me, but because he threw away my earrings.

A few different times in my childhood movies and TV shows influenced my life because of elements that displayed Magic and the ability of someone who wasn't something to magically turn into the thing they wished they were. Cinderella, The Little Mermaid, and a few others, really hit home with me. But the one TV show that really impacted me was Sailor Moon. This girl had a magic wand that TURNED HER INTO A PRINCESS THAT PROTECTED HER LOVED ONES!... I don't know why I decided that needed all caps but I did. I so wanted to be Sailor Moon.

I was Obsessed! And this was before I knew what Anime was. I didn't know Sailor Moon was a Japanese show converted over for Americans, I loved it.

I loved it so much that I would watch it any time it was on TV. I'd set up the VCR (Heh, remember those things?) to record it for me every day in case I missed it, and even if I didn't miss it I'd re-watch the episode I recorded just to enjoy it again.

My father, did not like this. He would yell at me that it was a girls show, that I should watch Teenage mutant ninja turtles. Which I did like, but I liked it more for the positive role model I felt I got out of April O'neil. He would steal the blank tapes and hide them, destroying any that already been used to record.

Eventually he started to even mock my interest in the show, one Christmas assigning presents I received as having come from "Sailor Moon" only to open them to find complete and utter junk I didn't and would never want. Lot of it being just shitty clothes with "Positive male role models" or some other shit all over it. After I had finished opening all my presents that year, I pretty much said "Fuck Christmas" and stopped caring about what I got, if I got anything at all. That was probably the last Christmas I would have ever called the Traditional Family Christmas, as soon after my parents started their steps towards separation.

The entire time I went through these events, I was also randomly being dropped into psychologists offices. But because of how my father treated these types of outbursts, I was scared of telling the psychologists that I felt wrong, that I didn't feel like a guy. That I never felt "normal". And as a result they constantly dumped Diagnosis of Depression, ADD Compounded by Depression, General Anxiety and a few others.


A lot of these I didn't remember till recently, some I didn't know about at all. I'm just glad I got it over with and started my transition. I feel so much more comfortable now then I ever did trying to hide and accidentally letting things slip.

Thanks Dad,

Thank you Dad...

For raising me, for treating me like your son for my entire life.
Thank you for being there when I needed help with my math homework when I was young.
Thank you for believing in me when I went to high school, and paying my way through private school.
Thank you for everything you did right for me.

I'm sorry,

I am sorry that even after all the investments into my future you've made, I've disappointed you.
I'm sorry that after all the things you did to try and make and keep me a strong, respectful, decent human being, I ended up being something you couldn't agree with.
I'm sorry that the times we spent together doing manly things were all in vain and a waste of your time.

I'm sorry that I'm a girl.


No.


No, I'm not. I am not sorry.

I am not sorry that I'm happier now than I was pretending to be your son.
I am not sorry that I'm happier now than I was pretending to be a man.
I am not sorry that I'm happier now loving multiple people regardless of their gender, or lack of their gender.
I am not sorry that I am me.
I am NOT sorry.

Today you had my sister tell me, because you were too much of a chicken to ask yourself, that you didn't want me in your office anymore. Even if I'm there to see my own sister, you don't want me near your place of business.

Sister: "Dad would like to ask nicely that you not drop by the office anymore."

And I get it, you are ashamed of me, I embarrass you.

If you really do not want me in your life anymore. I will gladly comply.
My birthday of this year I'll be filing my court documents for name change.
When I do, I'll omit the name you gave me.
I'll take a new family name.

I was never going to pass on your legacy through blood, why pass it on through name.

Maybe once I get rid of your name, I wont embarrass you anymore.

Goodbye Father,
I don't feel like calling you Dad anymore.