I would like to contribute towards the search for a ‘’deeper understanding’’ of trans experience. (Diana Lampen –11.4.25) I am a 71-year-old trans woman. As a child I knew I was different as did significant adults in my life. The headmaster at my junior school hated me and he would constantly threaten me, even though I was a quiet and well-behaved child. He seized his opportunity to cane me across upturned fingers for ‘’shouting in the toilets.’’ This led to me refusing to attend school and being placed under a psychiatrist.
As a young teenager, my parents, fearing that I was gay, policed my appearance. I was forced to have a severe short back and sides haircut. Eventually I protested and this led to violence. I ran away from home.
The family moved to a small fishing village in Devon, and I attended a tough secondary modern school. My peers could not work me out. I was different they thought, maybe gay. Yet I had a girlfriend. I was tolerated because I was a good rugby player and swimmer. I was attacked once but I was stronger than the attacker, and his mates were wary of me.
I became adept at avoiding macho men but still ran into trouble even though I wore ‘manly’ clothes. However, in my 20’s, and for no reason except my nature, I was violently attacked on two occasions. After the first one I was bedridden for three days and the second time I was beaten and kicked by two men.
The turning point came 30 years ago when, during a psychosis, I collapsed, arched my back and a voice chanted from deep within me, ‘’I am a woman.’’ I had never considered this. My life became easier although I didn’t act anything other than a man or tell anyone my ‘secret.’ I moved from male dominated industries, where I had always felt uncomfortable, to those dominated by working class women. I was the first male to be employed as a Warden by a large national Scottish sheltered housing organisation. As nearly all the residents were elderly women it initially caused a bit of a stir; but by the time I left I was overwhelmed by the mutual feelings of love that had developed.
I often wondered what the managers who interviewed me, the elderly ladies and fellow wardens, saw in me. They certainly changed my life for the better and gave me the courage to be myself and write about my experiences. I still thank them in my prayers.