Where do the Mermaids stand? Brochure.pdf · Mermaid. And was not about to leave the game and go...

Where do the Mermaids stand? Poetry, prose, artwork and personal stories by children, young people and their parents

MermaidsFamily and individual support for teenagers and

children with gender identity issues

Contents pageMermaids and Action for Children 1

Acknowledgements 2

Introduction 2

In the words of children, young people and parents 4

Useful links and contacts 29

Mermaids and Action for ChildrenMermaids was started in 1995 by a small group of committed parents who each had a child with a gender identity issue. Since then, despite working with often very little financial support, and with always a small group of proactive participants, it has grown in numbers and now supports approximately 400 families and individuals across the UK.

Mermaids’ aim is to support children and teenagers who are trying to cope with gender identity issues. It:

• offers support and information to parents, families, carers and others, including professionals

• raises awareness about gender issues among professionals and the general public

• campaigns for the recognition of this issue and an increase in professional services with trained gender identity disorder (GID) aware staff

Mermaids works with families and carers to help them to:

• have a greater understanding of their child’s issues and how these affect them

• help their child overcome any problems they may have

Action for Children is one of the UK’s leading voluntary sector providers of children’s services. It has around 420 projects, helping over 156,000 children, young people and families across the UK. The organisation also supports work in southern Africa, the Caribbean and Central America.

Action for Children helps the most vulnerable children and young people in the UK break through injustice, deprivation and inequality, so they can achieve their full potential. The organisation has extensive experience of working with other organisations to deliver the best possible services for children, young people and families. The partnership between Mermaids and Action for Children is a good example of joint working.

AcknowledgementsWe thank the fantastic and courageous children, young people and parents who have been so generous in their creative and sincere contributions.

Thanks to Linda, Susie and all at Mermaids for providing the original anthology for reworking, and Wendi Bestman and Paul Devlin at Action for Children for working with Mermaids to produce Where do the Mermaids stand?

IntroductionMermaids and Action for Children have worked together to produce this anthology of poetry, prose and artwork created by children, young people and parents.

The aim of this publication is to:

• provide a platform for creative expression by children, young people and parents living with or affected by gender identity issues

• raise awareness of the thoughts, feelings and perspectives that individuals and families who are living with gender identity issues have and take ownership of

This anthology project is part of a larger portfolio of joint work between Mermaids and Action for Children that promotes equality and inclusion for children, young people and families in respect of gender identity issues.

2 www.actionforchildren.org.uk

Giants, Wizards, and Dwarfs was the game to play Giants, Wizards, and Dwarfs was the game to play. Being left in charge of about eighty children age seven to ten years old, while their parents were off doing parenty things, I mustered my troops in the church social hall and explained the game. It’s a large-scale version of Rock, Paper and Scissors, and involves some intellectual decision making. But the real purpose of the game is to make a lot of noise and run around chasing people until nobody knows which side you are on or who won.

Organising a roomful of wired-up grade-schoolers into two teams, explaining the rudiments of the game, achieving consensus on group identity – all this is no mean accomplishment, but we did it with a right good will and were ready to go.

The excitement of the chase had reached a critical mass. I yelled out: ‘You have to decide now which you are – a GIANT, a WIZARD, or a DWARF!’

While the groups huddled in frenzied, whispered consultation, a tug came at my pants leg. A small child stands there looking up, and asks in a small, concerned voice, ‘Where do the Mermaids stand?’

Where do the Mermaids stand?

A long pause. A very long pause. ‘Where do the Mermaids stand?’ says I.

‘Yes. You see, I am a Mermaid.’

‘There are no such things as Mermaids.’

‘Oh, yes, I am one!’

She did not relate to being a Giant, a Wizard, or a Dwarf. She knew her category. Mermaid. And was not about to leave the game and go over and stand against a wall where a loser would stand. She intended to participate, wherever Mermaids fit into the scheme of things. Without giving up dignity or identity.

She took it for granted that there was a place for Mermaids and that I would know just where.

Well, where DO the Mermaids stand? All the ‘Mermaids’ – all those who are different, who do not fit the norm and who do not accept the available boxes and pigeonholes?

Answer that question, and you can build a school, a nation, or a world on it.

What was my answer at the moment? Every once in a while I say the right thing. ‘The Mermaid stands right here by the King of the Sea!’ says I. (Yes, right here by the King’s Fool, I thought to myself.)

So we stood there hand in hand, reviewing the troops of Wizards, and Giants and Dwarfs as they roiled by in wild disarray.

It is not true, by the way, that Mermaids do not exist. I know at least one personally. I have held her hand.

From All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten

by Robert Fulghum

3Where do Mermaids stand?

In the words of children, young people and parents

I bring my favourite stuff to school But other kids can be so cruel They laugh and point and say ‘Oooh’ And I just don’t know what to do

I bring Barbie to school But they lie And when I go they don’t say ‘Bye’

Alex (7)


‘The first time I heard I was Gender Dysphoric and what it meant I was quite pleased to know I was a boy and as months went by I started to be allowed to have boys things like trucks etc. A few weeks after I started Year 5 my mum told Mrs Morris my problems. But there’s still a bad side to it and it’s getting larger than the good. The bad side is the people keep on hassling me and it’s nearly the whole class! Asking me if I’m going to have a sex change and why I want to be a boy and I say I am a boy because I don’t want to tell them the whole story. One person in Year 6 called me a lesbian and another a transvestite! People are going too far on me and don’t realise I’m not a tomboy and there are loads of girls that are tomboys in my class and the school. Sometimes it’s nice to actually be a boy but sometimes I think I’ve got a long way to go till I’m a full boy.’

Jake (9)

‘All the kids I know that have gender problems. I can’t really mix with and all I want to do is talk to them and get through to them. I think for me getting through to them is impossible.’Jake (10)


Half Boy, Half Girl:Sounds weird, doesn’t it? But it can happen.

Psychologically a boy, physically a girl basically means: inside boy, outside girl.

The mind is more important than the body, you’d be dead without a mind, and in the mind I am a boy and if the mind is more important than the body, I am a boy.

Jake (9)

If this description fits you it doesn’t mean you’re weird, unless you come from another planet.

Jake (now 11)


I do not like boys I feel a bit on the girls’ side I do not like my willy because I want a baby. I like to dress up as a girl I used to have a boyfriend My favourite toy is a Barbie. When I grow up I am going to dress up as a girl

Theresa (7)

What is my life? It’s dog’s muck, that’s what! I just wake up in the morning feeling like dog’s muck and at the moment I’m ill from being depressed.

No-one takes me seriously and they probably won’t take this writing seriously or they won’t understand. I know I’m only 10 but does that mean I’m just a little kid?

Paul (10)

O God, what have you done People don’t understand Shouting out questions Like a big brass band They’re horrible and nice It’s too confusing to be precise People like me don’t even understand I want to talk to someone That really understands And no – it’s not my Mum and Dad.

Peter (8)


Thoughts of a distressed twelve year oldI’m stuck in the body of the other gender!

At first, ignorant reaction of another 12 year old would be ‘Oooooh! Hmmmmm! WOW! Oh, my God!’

When I was eleven (it’s surprising how you can grow up between 11 and 12) someone said ‘Wow! I wouldn’t mind it!’ True, he wouldn’t mind it for a day (that group of kids were a bit pervy at the time) but for your life... the future is scary.

Rumours go around school. Girls go off me. That’s bad, seeming to be one of the sad kids stuck in eleven-year-old-hood, who can’t get a girlfriend and so being stuck around the sad kids who I hate. The teachers think we should be friends because they’re nice to me.

Once I saw a girl, and I thought ‘Something should be going up down there!’

Jake (12)


Gender BlendingSociety. A weird place to be. People only see what they want to see, only hear what they want to hear, and believe unfounded rumours. Everything else gets ‘brushed under the carpet’, as it were. People are scared of what they can’t, or don’t, comprehend. I, being a transsexual, know first-hand about all this double-standard stuff. People see me as 100% male – in body and mind. Trouble is, though, that transsexuals may look like one sex, but their minds function as the other sex. So, in many ways, society is one big, big bag of hypocrites. My social life is non-existent, basically, and because I have not been accepted by most people, I don’t particularly want one.

People see me as a young man. They apply a masculine stereotype to me. When they find that I am, emotionally, a member of the female community, they call me queer, gay, homo... the list goes on. In fact, being transsexual is not gay. For instance, Mr and Mrs----------------- are the parents of my ex-boyfriend. They thought that I was gay, and banned me from contact with him. Their fears were groundless. I am not a homosexual; the only thing wrong with me is that I am incarcerated in the wrong body. Is that my fault? Mentally, I function as a girl. I’m sure his parents wouldn’t mind him going steady with a girl, so what’s wrong with me? Essentially I AM a girl!

This is the kind of treatment I get all the time. I am misunderstood wherever I go. People only seem to treat me as a male. This is wrong. People should respect each other as INDIVIDUALS – forget the stereotypes! I am a unique individual. You can’t put someone in a mould – you can’t second-guess who they are. This is exactly what’s happening to me, and needless to say, nearly everyone else in my position.

To achieve our full potential as individuals, we must be treated as who we are, not as people think we are. We must be allowed to think in our own ways. If I say I am internally female, then people should not keep taking the proverbial out of me. I should be treated as a female... not as a male. This is torture for us transsexuals, and our lives are not made any easier by ignorant people. We are discriminated against by immature, insensitive people, who only think of their own pride, not the already battered feelings of their prey.

Anne (16)


Stand Strong and Stand Proud... Faces in the mirror, none appear to be mine Yet two minds within were once forced now to twine Why so I can’t say, why life was so grey And those around hence, would not understand sense

For I spoke with my soul, my heart as my lips My future as bright as an impending eclipse A boy, I say not A girl, should not say For if other than ignorance hits the world, t’would be insane

Those children around me, cast darkness like chalk Upon the filth-ridden road of life I now walk Stare, laugh and point, with frozen cold eyes So why can I smile and forgive your despise?

I care not for money, nor power nor art I only care for those friends close to my heart A blessing I should say, that they hold me so dear They care not for the differences, but embrace my life here Though only there be five, each one help me strive And help shield me from pain that encircles this life So when someone asks ‘is this freak boy or girl’ They call me a friend, their cherished white pearl

And as hallowed as they are, I guess I’m the one Who must face the ignorance of a world now undone I hear of the others, who claimed their own lives Sometimes I wonder if that would be nice And so here I sit, this girl writing words

That if you understand, I know you are birds Set free from the ignorance of society’s hurts Fly free my friends, my cherished small birds

And so I sit here and wonder, whether girl or a boy My friends stand beside me, I’m just society’s toy The one who is exiled, because they seem to not need ’em And so should I claim that last breath of my life For freedom?

I do not wish for my words to be cruel Only to reflect what people at school Do to my heart, the hearts of all like me I give you this warning, lest my tragedy repeat And for others like me, I offer you truth Stand strong and stand proud, do not give into youth I lost my will, but you need not lose yours So stand strong and stand proud Whilst inside you, fight wars…

Annie, who sadly committed suicide aged 15


Intractable SituationLIFE IS so hard. I don’t know how I cope. Things just get so difficult: I’m losing all hope; People seem to find it so very hard to see How I can be a girl trapped in a boy’s – a man’s – body.

THEY FAIL to grasp why depression sets in, They fail to see what’s under my skin. They mistake me for a boy. In some ways they’re right But I refuse to give up without a fight.

I THINK there’s a word for it – transsexuality. It means across the sexes – where I don’t want to be. I have the mind of a woman, maternal urges and such. But I have the body of a man – it’s just all too much.

MY BEARD started growing the other day. My body maturing in every single way (ugh!) But not the one I want, the one I need, The one that will make sure I’m freed.

I NEED release, before it’s too late... The pressure is getting too much, too great. What can be done? I’ll have to wait, For the magical release date...

WILL IT be too late? To salvage my fate? Can I hold on for a few more months While controlling my hate

FOR MY body – that thing so against my soul I fear Nature has scored an own goal! I want to survive. I want to live. Not male – But female...

...and in doing so...

...realise my full potential.

Debs (16)


I AmHow dare you try to define me? I am more than a sum total of your categories.

You say I’m gay, or a freak. You can’t know that. What’s more, it is none of your business.

Do not worry over what I am. Know that I am. I am a human being, just like anyone else.

I am not in some kind of ‘alternative lifestyle’. I am not a freak.

I am not different. If I’ve annoyed you, shoot me now if you like.

I don’t care. I’m going to die happy You can do anything to me.

Jessica

So what has brought on this euphoric sensation?The Big T that’s what. T.E.S.T.O.S.T.E.R.O.N.E. I tell you It’s the first and last Drug I’m ever going to take And I’m on a permanent high So forget about E’s and Whizz There’s nothing quite like this hallucination And it’s real!

Oh wait, it’s the happy pill. It’s starting to take effect again. Would you like to try some? Good, because it’s all mine. The first and last hit is for me. I’m the most important. I don’t care about anyone today. I don’t care about the world today. I have all I need right here in my backside pocket.

William (18)


When I grow up I will be a man. I will look like a man. I will eat like a man.

I will feel like a man. I will talk like a man. And I will breathe like a man.

I am a boy now. That is, I feel like a boy now. But I am growing up. And When I grow up I will be a man.

William (18)

FreedomLike a bird without wings I am a man without a face Without a voice With no feeling But I know This is my life now I can’t start again I know what I need But I don’t do it Because Dad doesn’t want me to Pain that I keep inside Where I am I can’t wait till I’m free I’ll fly away I’ll be able to see my goal clearer Nothing in my way Nothing stopping me.

Jake (18)

The Testosterone star Guides me

To the operating table. And I am safe. Yes, I am safe Because the star is Guiding me And I trust it completely.

William (21)


How’s about starting a normal life? But won’t starting in the middle always be difficult? But I suppose I never thought life would be so, well – tricky! What happens when the only thought that occupies your mind is ‘I WANT TO BE NORMAL!’ and suddenly you realise that’s the only thing you’ll NEVER be.

Of course you have friends offering to help. But when they will never truly understand, what’s the point? As soon as you get close to normality somebody moves the barriers. Sometimes I try to convince myself that I am normal, it’s just the ones who don’t understand or don’t try to, who aren’t normal. Somehow, I never can truly convince myself enough.

But when I ask for help, what happens? Nothing. Exactly.

Perhaps I’m being selfish, stubborn, paranoid, or one of the thousand other things I’ve been called.

Why does it all have to be so f****** hard?

Lisa (18)

When nothing healsSometimes consoling words have no value (though appreciated) Because nobody understands Nobody knows how disgusting it feels Time is against me And so is the body. Every minute struggles by And knowing one day I won’t feel like this Sometimes doesn’t make this better Trying desperately to be positive Though nothing heals. I let myself punch walls again For a moment of release But I’m still angry Still drained Still sickened Still in pain I know other people have problems in their lives too But that doesn’t help the pain in mine Because there’s only one cure Out of reach But in my view I don’t want people to feel sorry for me Or people’s sympathy Just want to feel at home in the one place I constantly have to live.

Jake (18)

I’m a girl, he’s a guyI’m a girl, he’s a guy What can’t you ‘get’ or be dealing with? Don’t stare at him or me like you can feel our frustration Don’t start asking how and wondering why

You’re pointing to the sky firing a search to the critics to where I am When I’m not yet the doctor’s patient It’s hard to hide

I swerve and sway, extending my presence about the places I see around If I may I’m not such a bad person

if you bother to tell But no-one believes me when I spell out my name Just a figment of my own personal pain

Just a lie you spell out clear Just a phase you’ll pass my dear I couldn’t help to slouch around, staring at the plaster on the ceiling That has me bound. I’ve never liked drag and I f****** hate Madonna So back off with your clichés of what I can offer I couldn’t help but wonder why You can’t accept the colour on my nails


He’s a guy, can’t you tell? It’s not a figment of his own special brand of hell It’s his turmoil you inflame, the spite and hate you throw his way, a heavy object to his complexion. Just a knife to help him with keeping his attention. It’s his screaming inside his head that burns the picture in his mind, and on the reflection of the mirror beside his lovely pink bed. I’d like to push you off a cliff, and tell you the reasons before you land.

I just couldn’t feel, not a little pissed When I heard you make him cry He moves aside and has a moment to feel The bloody shocked eyes, and the gripping of his hair.

Don’t you understand it’s his life that he needs, not a cage that he lives in not the suffering you like to bury him further in.

You make me sick and terribly tired, when will you just roll of rooftops and die? When I realise it’s just another person trying to live out his life. Can’t you fill up on paracetamol and pay the paramedics an adrenaline good time? But you feel the need to dissect his intent And make him scared and make him shake All inside I feel a sigh

Where a flame makes a sigh? Well… Blows out and loses a will to burn up the hate filled eyes that you ejaculate on our weary broken prison sells

I’d like to make you the f****** mess you see when pitying me, so your eyes gather at my clothes Wondering if these are my real breasts I’m a girl, and he’s a guy Let me get it clear for you so you don’t have to – Kick us in the Auschwitz in your category mind So you don’t have to feel obliged, to apologize and bore us with all the similarities in your life. Let it go and don’t bother me about my penis

or the impotence between us Or do us a favour and lie down and die

I am a girl with a penis and testicles, haven’t you realised the feelings why? Can’t you ‘get’ that all this clutter you heave on our facades, can’t be the fret that fate bestows, but it still cuts and bleeds and motivates me to write this prose It still wounds the needy It still steals from the look that’s left wanting

You just couldn’t sit down and listen, could you? You just couldn’t be the mother and father you are. You can’t let me be happy at 13; you had to force me to change outside and let me fall to pieces within my glass and crystal sharp edged male exterior. What’s contained in here? Lots and lots of pain and a hint of envy. For the faces we see… Who we would risk our life to be, to be

BITCH

That’s how we feel inside. So I’m a girl and he’s a guy. Please remember. And don’t. Don’t. Ask why.

Lindy (18)


Song of a New DawnBack against the wall Me against the world That’s how it feels But unarmed I crouch, curl up Hide from the blows of the world Run through the wilderness of myself Only to be confronted once more

When you cannot trust yourself Who can you trust? When all you are is what you shouldn’t be But people don’t understand They don’t listen Making it even harder for you to speak

Hope that tomorrow Will bring a better day Will lift me from this misery Guide me Shield me Hold me Heal me

I don’t care anymore I wait for my New Dawn

Evan (18)

RamblingsConfusion fills my mind Disembodied thoughts and voices Floating around my head Who what how I need to know I need to change This isn’t right I know inside I’m the one that’s wrong Lost Stumbling

I need someone to understand To listen Someone who understands But instead I’m alone and waiting Maybe one day

I’ll be right I’ll feel alright But can I last?

It’s all so hopeless Isn’t it? Pointless and foolish Do I have a chance? The pain, I long to feel To make it all real again To make it all simple But I can’t Not again Never again

Evan (18)


Yetafell Arop Doctor Car ym mhob man Dar gar car, car-carchar Sgwr bed diwed Freud Tasin fyw

Ar un ochr llumav farwol Ar y Uall llumav fyw – Dim bywoliaeth Cyn lleiad o bobi syn fyw ywa Aros ar aros am fyth

Dim forold allan yn awr With gwcs maer dows ar agor And beth am gwellhai Sine hyder yn fy nghalor

Dafydd (20)

The Doctor’s Waiting Room Cars everywhere A prison, two prisons – no, a prison I wonder what Freud would say If he was alive

On one side pictures, alive On the other, dead pictures No life for me though Waiting, but forever?

No way out now Of course the door’s open But what about getting better I’ve got no strength in my heart

Dafydd (20)

As the poem suggests, I was sitting in the waiting room in the doctor’s surgery. I am on one side where all I can see are black oil paintings and a cupboard which acts as an invisible shield – a prison almost.

I feel an almost urgent desire to get out, to cross over – and as I do I see fresh paintings which show life and hope.

This is to me like the transition period, halfway through. The doors open, I can leave, change my mind. But what will that do to me?

Dafydd (20)

17

My poems are always written in pencil because I never feel that I have satisfied my anxiety that caused me to write it in the first place and generally to symbolise that they are not perfect, complete or truthful in explaining my feelings.

It’s hard to explain something for other transsexuals because although we probably share a lot of feelings in common we are all different. I think it is very important that it is clear that nobody is worse or better off than anyone else (both other transsexuals and generally).

It is very easy to think that someone much younger being able to be in the gender role more comfortable to them, is lucky, but being transsexual in the first place is not lucky. However I personally find myself forced to think what I have gained from my situation. I think the most important thing is a more secure knowledge that my family do love me and that the friends I have are real friends. Strength is also very important. I find myself very proud to know I got through a day without having overwhelming feelings of aggression towards the rest of the world for making me

wrong (which is the way I see it), for not beating myself up, and for ignoring my body.

Sometimes I can’t sleep and I will lie awake crying and feeling like I am going mad because I feel so trapped with no escape, because some days I can’t accept it. Knowing it’s OK to cry is so important, particularly I think for female to male transsexuals because the general feeling is that men shouldn’t cry and as a female to male I have thought in the past that I shouldn’t cry, to cling to my masculinity. I can, but it’s not necessary. We are all just who we are.

I sometimes choose between accepting, or accepting that I can’t accept it. It also makes me angry when I see my pain getting in the way of my A levels and I know I work very hard. I have a lot of determination but sometimes you can’t concentrate and you see other people doing fine. You think they don’t have all your extra problems and you have to work twice as hard. But you can’t compare yourself to other people because you don’t know what problems that they have, and it’s not going to help you anyway.

James (18)

We are the children That they look at And laugh at

We are the children Whose bodies are scarier To face than their Laughter

We are the children Who must come to terms With ourselves And their prejudices

We are the children That must decide Who we are And what we want

And one day We will be the children That they look at And accept And respect.

Oliver (20)


StarlightI see a light, Across a nasty sea, There’s rarely any good news, Weather forecasts always bleak, They’re making waves,

Waves, making for A rough journey through life, Parents, friends, family, ends just never will meet with strife, On this dark sea,

Living a lie, To fool pirates and sharks, On boats drifting aimlessly, But dark skies are filled with marks, They’re shining stars,

They show the way, Within dark there’s more to life, we’re mermaids after all, We belong in the water, Despite danger,

So there I sit, Plan a course by starlight, Meeting friends along the way, Together, one day we might just reach that light.

Lucie (19)


For me it has been a gradual process. At the age of ten I finally persuaded my mum to agree to have my hair cut short. At this time I was in the Junior School and there were no strict rules about the way pupils should look. There wasn’t even one for uniform, so I got away with wearing trousers. I participated in sports and school events and thankfully I was never bullied for looking a bit different.

At Secondary School there were strict rules about uniform and I decided it would be easier if I stuck to them, so I wore a skirt. Sometimes I look back and wonder if I should have refused to do this, but I guess I didn’t want to cause trouble – to me this would have reminded the teachers and fellow pupils that I was ‘different’ and so I went along with it even though wearing a skirt was very hard for me.

During the first two years of Secondary School, people would ask me if I was going to have a sex ‘change’ and I would say ‘yes’ – I never denied it – perhaps this is why I was

never bullied? In the third year the questions stopped and most people accepted me, because I didn’t make a fuss about things like wearing a skirt, people began to forget that I wanted to be male and so I was treated as female. I just accepted this at the time although it hurt. Most of the effort I could have put into worrying about this was better spent working for my GCSEs and when it came to doing my A levels I continued to concentrate hard on my work which was something of a relief, because it stopped me thinking about my gender problems all of the time.

Having said this though, I was finding it increasingly difficult because of my gender dysphoria and was referred to St George’s Hospital for counselling. In the beginning, I enjoyed it, then it got very boring, but at the time I left (at 18) I realised that it had been necessary. At the start I was unable to control my emotions and was unwilling to talk, but slowly over the two and a half years I was there, I started to talk about how I felt, and became much more able to discuss my Gender Dysphoria with others.

This year I have begun to live in the male role, and since leaving St George’s I have made an effort to talk to my friends and tell them about my need to go through gender reassignment. All have been very understanding. I have even started going back to my Secondary School to tell my old teachers and they have been very supportive.

I have been very lucky because I have never had to deny who I am. Lately someone asked me a question about my Gender Dysphoria and I have been honest with them. This, along with counselling at St George’s has helped me to reflect on my past and look to the future with increased optimism.

William (18)


Will I ever cope with being a transsexual? I very often asked myself this question over and over, and I can tell you there are no easy ways of coping with being a transsexual. I know for me, being a female to male transsexual has not been exactly easy. At times it’s been so tough that I thought I wouldn’t get through it, especially school, but here I am. I did survive school and now I’m taking the first steps towards being what I should have been all along. I think that even though it has been, and still is, rough going, it’s made me a much stronger person. Not physically stronger, but inwardly. You see, I’m now adopting the attitude that if someone has a problem with the way I am it is THEIR problem NOT mine. It takes time but you just have to keep pushing yourself on, even if you don’t feel like it. And try to blank out the narrow-minded ignorance that is around.

I recently started a part-time college course in my new identity, which took a lot of courage as I have had no surgery or hormones so I was not sure if I would pass as a nineteen year old lad or not. Luckily I was the youngest of the class, the others were a lot older than me so they didn’t take much notice, but one rather loud bloke came over, and asked really ‘tactfully’: ‘Are you a boy or a girl, only I can’t tell the difference these days.’ As all eyes turned to me, I took a deep breath, and calmly announced that I was a BOY. After that I had no more queries, and am actually beginning to relax and enjoy the course.

But I had prepared myself for the worst and was ready to deal with anybody who was going to cause a fuss, but fortunately I didn’t have to. If society wasn’t so prejudiced, half of the battle would be won already. I think it is important not to expect too much from yourself as I have found through my own personal experience. You have enough pressure to cope with already without piling a load more on yourself. I used to overcompensate for the lack of maleness by being a bit too ‘macho’ which on a number of occasions resulted in steaming rows with my parents. Especially my mum over the ironing, well, blokes don’t do ironing. Do they? I usually ended up with more creases in a T-shirt than when I started it. But I HAVE grown up a bit since then. I do my bit now. It’s important to talk stuff over with the people you are close to, it helps. There is no point acting the ‘Tough Guy’ if inside you are falling apart. Other people can put things in perspective, maybe give you some good advice or just cheer you up.

And finally give yourself a pat on the back for the little things you do no matter how small you think it is. I expect for some people, going to college would be no big deal, but to me it was a big step. It takes guts to cope with being a transsexual, and I will say to anyone who has ever asked themselves the above question: Be Strong, Have a bit of faith in yourself, don’t take any crap from anyone, and, YES, YOU WILL COPE!

Keith (20)


My personal case studyI think it’s a given that any trans person will have some underlying problems associated with their gender issues, both with themselves and with other people. Problems faced with family, getting professional help, problems in school, anorexia, self-harm and depression is a serious but exhaustive collection of examples and I can relate to most of them too.

I’d always believed from an early age I should have been born physically a girl because I knew on the inside I was one. So I told somebody at about the age of ten years that I was going to make that change and his reaction was pretty bad. So I retracted it as a joke straight away and I have no doubts that I averted a crisis for myself. It made me realise who this person was and that there were plenty of like-minded people at school, so I thought I was probably wrong about myself anyway and lived in the dark for quite some time after that, playing as female characters in games, much to the wonder of some of my friends. I even picked a name for myself and spelt it backwards whenever I got scared someone would see.

I didn’t like puberty and I had reached it before a lot of others. As I saw boys growing up (or not, depending on how you look at it for some of them), I became very low, knowing that I was being put with this group of boys with sky-high testosterone levels. I was never really happy at school after I hit puberty and I don’t think I was even clear with myself at first as to why, I mean, who wouldn’t be confused, considering I’m an only child and the reaction I got before? I was becoming depressed. I was being something I’m not and over time it took its toll. For me growing up confirmed who I am.

School holidays were when I was at my happiest points. I lived in a house that was completely sheltered from any neighbours or passers-by and could be whoever I wanted, but that is no longer the case. This change pushed me so low that I was having urges to self-harm, and still do today. The main cause of my depression before was being part of the wrong crowd; it’s shifted more towards parts of my body now that I’m out of school. I wake up with a nasty urge every single day now and I get quite sick of it at the best of times. I find even looking at my own genitals, like in the bath, really traumatic. At a couple of times in my life I have even developed an eating disorder, not being able to keep much down but I was able to get over that myself, although my weight hasn’t been great for the last few years.


I have had to deal with parents now that the academic chapter of my life is over, plus I have been seeing professionals but mostly to no avail. It actually turned out to be a big step backwards as they didn’t know much about gender problems and I have just been diagnosed with Asperger’s which doesn’t really have anything to do with what I have been feeling – it is an autistic spectrum disorder and there are plenty of trans people on that spectrum. It’s even been theorised that the two are linked. I was actually told that

I am to put all of this to one side and progress in life – how am I meant to do that, when I don’t want to live life as I am now? I have been branded a gay cross-dresser by one parent which to me implies I am male in heart and soul which I am not. I have also been told that I can’t transition whilst the older generations in the family are still alive so I am to spend many more years in the closet. I’m now 19 and fast approaching Uni. I don’t really know how I am going to cope. But I live in hope that one day with my lives two will finally become one.

Lucie (19)


Essay – Do you believe that you have gender dysphoric feelings? When did they begin?

Do not hand in late, or face expulsion from school, then sex, then species!

In a certain light, yes, although gender dysphoria does not explain how I feel. I never used to know there was a difference between sex and gender, and even now, think they are very difficult to disentangle. This is not to say I feel like a male, just because of my biology. I do, in fact, particularly hate being called a man, and I wouldn’t call myself it. I have come to see ‘man’ as implying substance, as seen in big strong men, which is something I lack in its entirety.

However, it is difficult to be treated in a way which would not be obvious; I cannot make people treat me as female just because I do not conform to the male model, and it’s difficult to fight the world from the inside telling myself this is what it’s like to be a girl, as I’ve generally never had that respect (cross-dressing is the exception which expanded my mind to new possibilities).

During secondary school I became accustomed to being called gay (derogatively) and having a range of homophobic abuse inflicted on me. Thus, my sexuality was questioned, and in so doing my common gender was confirmed – in such a way that I was a failure as a male.

In such a state of mind it took great reflection to consider that I was not entirely a failure (in view of my {lack of} abilities in sport, or laddishness, for example) but that the qualities which were looked down upon in the male world were valued in the female world. Thus, feelings of gender dysphoria would have implied that I appreciated I had been defined according to gender, when I think my naivety and idealism from a young age made me think that I necessarily be valued for who I was,

and that boys who disrespected me (and by extension, girls) had the problem, not me. The very qualities that I aspired to, such as hard work, good manners, morality (inculcated by my parents) so absent in boys, created an (unspoken affinity) with girls in the classroom.

Much as I desired to play with the girls, however, I lacked the self-confidence to do so, and was persuaded to think, paradoxically, that socialising with girls was a privilege of sporty, good-looking, self-confident boys. In my heart I could not see why boys and girls had to segregate themselves into different groups in any case (in the playground in primary school). I felt very much a spectator. Going to a boys grammar school also compounded my sense of artificial segregation. It was only with growing up through adolescence, that I came to see life as an adaptive exercise. I no longer saw the ‘system’ as my ticket to achievement and self-actualisation, when I had once thought that my relationships would sort themselves out naturally as in story books. The very reason I went to grammar school was because I saw education as my redemption, to use a religious metaphor. Work depressed me and became meaningless, as a chasm opened up between the macho culture of which I was forced to be part and the learning process.

Realising that I could not change the world, I came to think I would have to change myself, not fundamentally, but that I was on my own and self-expression was all I had. Part of this self-expression was sticking to my principles and not selling out to the teenage male culture, and part was cross-dressing in private. Cross-dressing confused me, because it was so sexual, and yet so pointless, perhaps nihilistic. Yet in moments of truth, it opened up my mind to a new way of thinking, and seeing


myself. I can best describe the experience as a gestalt shift: the permission to conceive of myself as female. The sexual aspect was liberating as it symbolised the happy-go-lucky boy-meets-girl sexuality which had, it seems, been denied me growing up. Yet the sense of fetish about it depressed me. This was not guilt. It just looked like I was wasting my time, because the female world was out there and I was closeted away, deceiving myself into thinking I really was a girl, I was being nothing more than a transvestite.

As the sense of self-expression sadly dried up as I came to realise that my new consciousness demanded I express my female persona in the real world. In this way, the sexual aspect of cross-dressing has faded into the horizon, as I have come to confront the bigger picture (not an unsexual one, just one in which I am in control of sexuality). The more successful I have been in doing this, the less gender dysphoria becomes relevant as I became more self-assured and confident in who I am. The remaining sense of gender dysphoria concerns whether or not I would devote myself permanently to living as a female, which seems to involve transition. Anything that is temporary or reversible seems empowering, although if the result of this life is that I am compelled to choose between male and female, in the sense of conforming to a social category, then as I say, this undeniably involves gender dysphoria.

So, to summarise, gender dysphoria has never been the main way I understand myself, although I am never-the-less compelled to confront it. The idea of gender dysphoria, a term I have only known for a few years, does

seem in a way revolutionary. In my early teens the idea of actually being a girl would have seemed as much a silly fantasy or delusion that the idea that I could be anyone else other than me (as some pop-star or a film star, etc.). The thought too that transition and SRS is possible also seems liberating. I want to be someone I can feel proud of. I do not want to feel that I am deceiving myself either, so I must always be honest with myself (this is one sentiment which has never changed). I hope to be older and wiser this time around. Where this all takes me I don’t know.

Grade E – see me

If you have any thoughts on this please just...

Anon


Night time worries – by a parent it’s nightime and i climb into bed- i cant sleep though- there’s too many thoughts and i’m feeling so low!

what do i do? tell me what should i do? i’m lonely and scared and i havent a clue!

my neighbours will hate me- they’ll spit in my face- my family disown me- cos we re a disgrace!

i wish this weren’t happening and it’s only a dream- i’m tossing and turning- and i just want to scream!

this cant be happening-and this cant be right-but i’ll just have to face it-and put up a fight! so i’ll get up in the morning- and start over again- one day things will be better- i just don’t know when!

I did this poem in the very early days after my child got a GID diagnosis. Things have got better since this.

My Daughter – from a parenthandstand and cartwheels-she does it all- giggling and dancing and running around- to the sound of a girl band- her feet tap the ground!

barbies and jewellery littered about- handbags with glitter in her bedroom galore- her favourite is pink and she has a few- girls like these things-well you know the score!

her bedding’s all pink-and so are her curtains- she wants bright pink walls-and probably with glitter- im not up for this and i shake my head- she s not happy with me-to her im a quitter!

so as you can see-she’s a typical girl- she gives me stress but she s also a joy- and i’ll hide my teardrops- [cos these i won’t show] because-she was born a ‘boy’!!!

Written for my son Do you really understand about the way I feel? Have you ever stopped to think these feelings could be real? For many years I felt confused, trapped inside a shell. I felt I should have been a boy but I still looked like a girl. At times my thoughts tormented me and drove me to despair. When I needed good old sound advice none was ever there. After years of endless searching I decided what to do, No matter what you all may think I’m prepared to see it through I know that I am not alone, that you’re here by my side. At last I know that I can cope if you will be my guide Now I know my goal I’ll get there any way I can. ’Cause in my heart I know that I was born to be a man.

Written for Ben (18)


Transgender MuseumI journey into your eyes Palest white caresses iris Of tormented blue darkness Which dulls receding in a whirl Like retreating waves on shore.

Your mouth speaks Tongue whispering syllables That could be decibels In my ear I hear you Chasing the pain Bewilderment as black T-shirt lies flat, I wonder if I stare Would I see your heart beating? Or does it just beat for air Softly As breasts sigh, living a lie Suffocating underneath bewildered.

I pull you into the future You pull me beyond I am the adult I should be strong, But I’m lying between a sandwich Of right and wrong My loss, my son, Stretching my configurations Staunch and stem To a society that will bend Allow us to blend In a museum of transgenders.

Don’t look don’t glare With her sweet head bent Feeling she’s going nowhere But hell ‘You’ll burn in hell,’ they whisper As she slips a little further Into escaping shadows of hurt Chop chop chop Cut it off Hair Bare

Skin that disguises the true child within, Disgrace, disgust, loathing Loss of trust, Judge not my child For she came from God

And I, I her mother Shall be the road she is standing on As I journey into her eyes, Cradle the tears Bind the ties, I shall be the society That shall accept As we follow the path down Grappling to stay in control, But losing a foothold On her precious soul.

Bubo (Mother of female-to-male child)


Dirty Pretty Little Things I see the cool irises of their eyes Secret in their smile Tugging at the school skirt Losing purpose as it sits on the hips Lip gloss gracing plump lips Desperate to be nibbled and kissed

And the sanctimonious harmonies Like decibels pierce corridors Where doors slam shut Giggles trickle along floors While delicate fingers rearrange The tie sitting on budding breasts. Look in the mirror You’re beautiful outside today Smooth hair upon your crown of knowledge What do you know anyway?

Side step clusters Perfection of the woman child They stare I stare Twinkle of ear studs sitting prettily On lush lobe of dainty ear

The whole package rightfully snug I close my eyes One wish buried inside Why I, I ask Why I? My child stands by my side

And it rained when the sun shone Loneliness crept in, Grabbed me by the throat My fists needing to rattle the cage Release prejudice and pain Ruffle their feathers Guide them to accept that Change Is perfectly alright We are not all the same But we do share the right To hold our heads high Follow our inner light But they carve their scars Delicately hidden to the blind Make my child bleed internally For no crime But that she breathes Dreams, not of what they understand

Nor do they care to try Just stamp Sly Whisper Contrive to set their balance right.

I hold on tight.



And it rained when the sun shone Loneliness crept in, Grabbed me by the throat My fists needing to rattle the cage Release prejudice and pain Ruffle their feathers Guide them to accept that Change Is perfectly alright We are not all the same But we do share the right To hold our heads high Follow our inner light But they carve their scars Delicately hidden to the blind Make my child bleed internally For no crime But that she breathes Dreams, not of what they understand

Nor do they care to try Just stamp Sly Whisper Contrive to set their balance right.

I hold on tight.


Useful links and contacts

Mermaids Support group for gender variant children, teenagers, and parents BM Mermaids, London WC1N 3XX

www.mermaidsuk.org.uk Telephone: 020 8123 4819 (local rates) 3pm–7pm, Monday–Saturday when staffed Email: [email protected]

Gender Identity Research Education Society Melverley, The Warren, Ashtead, Surrey KT21 2SP

www.gires.org.uk Telephone: 01372 801554 Email: [email protected]

Gender Identity Development Service NHS clinic for 18s and under The Tavistock Clinic, 120 Belsize Lane, London NW3 5BE

www.tavi-port.org/childidentityissues Telephone: 020 8938 2030 Fax: 020 7431 8320

Queer Youth Network For support and social networking c/o LGBT Centre, 49/51 Sydney Street, Manchester M1 7HB

www.queeryouth.org.uk Telephone: 020 8123 6958 Fax: 0161 241 6733

FTM Network Advice and support for female to male people, families etc BM Network, London WC1N 3XX

www.ftm.org.uk Telephone: 0161 432 1915 (Wednesday 8pm–10.30pm)

Gender Trust Advice and support for transgendered people, partners, families etc

The Gender Trust, Community Base, 113 Queens Road, Brighton BN1 3XG

www.gendertrust.org.uk Telephone: 0845 231 0505

Depend Support and information for loved ones of transsexual people aged 18+ BM Depend, London WC1N 3XX

www.depend.org.uk Email: [email protected]

Schools Out For equality for all LGBT people in education

www.schools-out.org.uk

Transkids Mainly for teachers in primary schools but useful for others too

www.transkids.synthasite.com

Gendered Intelligence Education, arts, workshops etc

www.genderedintelligence.co.uk

Press for Change Campaigning on legal issues

www.pfc.org.uk

Trans Youth Family Allies American support group with useful information especially on children past puberty

www.imatyfa.org General information: www.tsroadmap.com Discussion forums for teens www.trueselves.com

ReferencesFulghum, R (2004) All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten, Ballantine Books.

Further reading for childrenEwert, M (2009) 10,000 Dresses, Seven Stories.

Pejril, R (2004) The story of Fluff the bunny, Cafepress www.cafepress.co.uk/fluffbunny

Further reading for adolescentsPhilips, A A (2007) If you believe in mermaids…don’t tell, Dog Ear Publishing.

Peters, J A (2004) Luna, Little, Brown Young Readers.

Personal storiesEvelyn, J (2007) Mom, I need to be a girl, Walter Trook Publishing.

Boenke, M (ed.) (2003) Trans Forming Families: Real Stories About Transgendered Loved Ones, 2nd edition, Oak Knoll Press.

Mermaids


Action for Children 85 Highbury Park London N5 1UD Telephone: 020 7704 7000 Fax: 020 7226 2537

www.actionforchildren.org.ukAction for Children is committed to helping the most vulnerable children and young people in the UK break through injustice, deprivation and inequality, so they can achieve their full potential.

Registered charity nos. 1097940/SC038092/company no. 4764232 Produced by Action for Children 01/2010. 09/10 0509

Mermaids BM Mermaids London WC1N 3XX Telephone: 020 8123 4819 Email: [email protected]

Where do the Mermaids stand? Brochure.pdf · Mermaid. And was not about to leave the game and go...

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