I had an extreme envy of men and an extreme resentment of myself. I just thought men were better. In a way I had my own strange kind of sexism.
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I started reading more about feminism and understanding things differently. It’s hard to grow up and not really see other masculine lesbian women. I had put the problem inside myself, when actually it is with how the outside world sees women who don’t conform to feminine norms. I just wanted to be human, neutral, myself. I felt as if the only way I could be myself was to look like a guy.
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My breasts started growing when I was nine years old. I had to wear bras, I wasn’t allowed to run around naked in the garden anymore, although my two brothers could. My hips grew, and I didn’t fit on the swing in the playground anymore. Men started looking at my breasts. I experienced a lot of catcalling and men tried to grab me on the streets. My breasts felt like sexy signs I was carrying in front of me that I couldn’t get rid of.
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I see the cause of my transition as being my mother, grandmother and father. My brother was idolised by my mother and grandmother. He was the golden child who could do no wrong, their “little darling”. I was a “little heathen” and a “hussy”; I could do nothing right. My mother was always angry with me and very critical. I spent most of my childhood saying sorry and pleading with her. I hated my body from when I was a child. I thought I was fat. I hated the frilly dresses my mother would put me in. I wanted to wear the same clothes as my brother and have the same haircut as him, but she wouldn’t let me. My body felt like a prison when puberty started. I thought my periods were like a nightmare, it seemed so wrong to have blood coming out of my body.
When I was 15 my father got in touch with us after many years. I was pleased to hear from him. He would take my brother and me out and he bought us things — a stereo, clothes — and gave us money. He seemed like the perfect father. He invited us to stay at his house and my mother didn’t want us to go, but wouldn’t say why not. Of course I went anyway.
The first evening he raped me. He came in the next morning and he did it again. Afterwards I think I sat in the lavatory for about an hour. It’s like I didn’t know where I was.
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I identified as a man because I wanted people to see me as a person, not as a sexual object. I saw a man as a person and a woman as a sexual object. Perhaps if there were no sexism and homophobia in the world, no one would need to change their body?
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I knew I didn’t feel attracted to boys sexually and it was obvious I felt different to other girls. I went online and found the term “asexual” on Tumblr. At school we’d been taught about being gay, but I don’t remember the term lesbian ever coming up. I thought that if I didn’t fancy boys then I must be asexual.
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I’ve accepted that I like women. I get that there are people with serious gender dysphoria, but I think the biggest reason that women are transitioning is because they can’t accept they are lesbians.