i was thinking about how right before i decided to transition to male, like in the 3 or 4 years before then, i tried harder and harder to embrace myself as a female. i became a feminist (which i still am), i studied women’s rights and history, and listened to a lot of female singers and comedians and got a tattoo of a woman’s symbol and a lesbian triangle, and i bought myself a body goddess charm i still have made from clay in the shape of my large curvy body and huge boobs, to try and remind myself i was beautiful as i was. but once i found out i was actually born chemically male and never knew and it all clicked with me that i had always been more of a male than female, i quickly decided to transition. and i was impatient and i rushed the process in parts and it is supposed to take a long time for a reason, so you don’t just wake up one day in a male body not knowing quite how you got to be there or what to do or how to act. and no one supporting me at the time but strangers going through the same thing and a few odd friends i didn’t really get to see often. men are boys before they are men for a reason and i woke up one day looking like a man, but barely a boy… and yet all it took were a few years of reality to smack me in the face and make me the man i am now and i am a good one. a little unusual, but i know and love who i am today. i don’t need a scene to belong to or a gang to defend me. i’ve struggled my entire life to find the path that is my own and not someone else’s, and i feel like i am on that right path today and am grateful for all the shit i’ve been through and all the burned bridges i had to swim my way across for and i am stronger and my path is more mine now than ever.
when i was in the 8th grade, way back when in 1992, when i had big hair and big boobs and was about as opposite to my current physical self as could be, but had the same passion for mischief (ok, actually, WAY more back then), i had this friend Drea who in 7th grade, i had gotten into all kinds of fun trouble with, and she had moved out of town, but we kept in touch.
one night around 3am, i was talking to Drea on the phone and she told me about a movie she had just seen on TV and she told me the entire plot. it was about a farmer who had sex with his sheep and he took the sheep to his psychiatrist and told him he thought he had a problem because he was in love with his sheep. the doctor told him to give him the sheep to reduce temptation and then the doctor fell in love with the sheep and took it to a hotel to get it drunk and have sex with it.
i decided it would be funny to rewrite this story in detail, and to use my teacher’s names for the characters. my science teacher was the farmer and my social studies teacher was the psychiatrist. so i wrote the story and brought it to school. the first person i gave it to read to, was caught laughing at it during social studies class, early that morning.
later in the school day, maybe right after lunch, i was called down to the principle’s office. the principle, the vice principle, the social studies teacher, the guidance counceler and both my parents were there.we were invited to sit down.
my father asked what was going on? what was this all about? one of them (i don’t recall who) said “we’re concerned that your daughter is having sex with sheep”
“sheep?” my father asked in shock
“yes” they said
“i don’t think she is having sex with sheep, no,” my father said very sarcastically like they were the biggest morons he’d ever met “i don’t think she’s ever even come into contact with a sheep, we live in Reading, there aren’t a whole lot of sheep here”
“well, maybe not sheep, but animals in general” they said
“i don’t think so” my father said “WHAT would even give you this idea?” he asked
“she wrote a story. we found it and we are concerned”. they handed the story to my father, and he took it and started reading it.
“this is familiar” my father said as he was reading it.
“so it’s true?” they asked
“what? no, this… this is a woody allen movie!”
“you keep porn in the house Mr. Edwards?” they asked him
“it’s not porn. it’s a comedy” he tells them
“well, we don’t find it very amusing” they say
“well i don’t find it very amusing that you called me out of work saying it was some kind of emergency when all my daughter did was write a summary of some stupid movie she saw. i have better things to do with my day”
i think they argued a little and then my father called them stupid and went back to work.
for the next few months i tormented my parents and teachers by showing an increased interest in sheep, drawing them, talking about them, just generally yelling “sheep”. man i was so obnoxious. but anyway. it’s funny that with all the hell i was ACTUALLY going through at that time, the 1 thing that peaks the interest of people who might have been able to help me was their concern that i was fucking sheep. you really can’t even put a price on that kind of arrogance.