THE NEXT STEP ? by Kliah My journey actually began, I think, when I realised that there was something different about me from the "other boys" at school, and at the age of 7, this comes as something of a shock. I would watch not the boys, but the girls, wanting desperately to emulate them, to BE one of them. One night, I finally got up the courage to talk to Dad about what I am feeling, afraid, but hopeful, I guess, but the next morning I found that Mom has set out a girl's clothes, and seems to accept what I told Dad the night before, or at least she doesn’t look mad at me. That was the start, and their support and love never failed or waned in all the years since until the day they passed on. Growing up in a semi rural area outside of a small city, there was a lot of chance to play, and since the only others my age in the immediate area were girls, this was a good and happy time for me. I now live life largely as a girl except at school, which is now becoming harder since I seem to be alone in my desires. Home is wonderful now. Piano lessons continue, but I also now take lessons in Classical Ballet, dance and music, playing quiet games, helping Mom around the house, and learning cooking and sewing, and even Grandmother is teaching me about crafts and sewing and knitting. I love my life, and perhaps now things are finally getting better for me. If only I could get rid of these things which I more and more feel are wrong and don’t really belong to me. By the age of 12, the girls were beginning to drift away, planning on other things, and my desires and dreams were only getting stronger, taking over almost every aspect of my life and mind, so taking firm hold of myself, I spoke with my Doctor, thinking that there might be some way to change, and get what was now more than just a passing fancy. *BIG MISTAKE* Doctors in the early 1950's, not being at all progressive (or even a little bit supportive) began by telling me that I was a BOY, born that way, and that I would just have to get it through my thick skull that this is how I was going to be forever. Dad works for a Medical School, though, and even he is wondering more and more if there might be some other real reason for my feelings, so he quickly arranges to get some anonymous tests made, and sends them off to a bunch of places, and we wait for the results to come back. They are all similar ..."Pre-pubescent GIRL, with a SLIGHT hormone imbalance." All I got for my faint hope for help was locked up ! First, I was shipped off to a "School For Boys" in a town over 100 miles from friends and family, and here is where my troubles escalated radically. Since my body and facial features at the time were very fine, and feminine looking, I was promptly attacked, physically, by a number of the "boys", who were never identified, (not even to how many) and beaten and Raped … repeatedly. It hurts all the time, and the teachers don’t seem to care, or even want to hear about it. Every day the same thing,and it’s getting worse. I even bleed in bed, but the teachers yell at ME about that, too. Also, since I was also a juvenile at the time, (under 21) there were NO rights or protections in place, as there are today to prevent further such attacks, and no-one to whom I could really turn for help because of this. This continues daily for over 3 years. I try several times to end the pain, and everything else, again without any success. After my time there, with no change in my desires, and perhaps also due to my repeated suicide attempts, it was decided by the "powers that be" that I should receive some "Therapy" and more "counseling" from "qualified practitioners of the psychiatric arts" in order to “cure” me of my “perverted ideas and desires” ... so I was sent finally to a "hospital" near my family, and promptly drugged up to the eyeballs on Melaril and Trifluoperazine and other such products, together with nearly toxic doses of MALE hormones, and largely left to rot, save for school, which I was required to do, and with no-one even remotely close to my own age to talk with. My schooling suffered from the large number of psychotropic and other drugs which were being fed into my still feminine-looking body, and for the longest time the Doctors could not seem to understand why my grades went from A's and B's to mostly D's and Incompletes. No Ballet, no cooking or sewing, and “Craft Shop” is both a Drag , and dirty … AND SMELLY! YUCK! Yet another Incomplete. I suppose that I should thank the doctors for keeping me so well drugged, since this gave me a lot of time in which to dream, and plan, and my hopes continued to grow, still crying for the chance to be the girl I still knew was crying somewhere inside me. I was also too drugged up to try to end things any more, and Mom and Dad are still trying to get me back, and OUT OF THIS PLACE. Interpersonal relationships were a real trial, at least in the sense that I had no real desire at all to "marry and be a good father" since it felt basically Wrong to me. I avoided parties, dances and outings at every possible opportunity, to the dismay of the hospital staff, and came close on many occasions to giving up completely on everyone and everything, and just Ending it all Forever. Only Mom and Dad seem to understand my real NEED. Finally, however, the doctors take me off the drugs, and Allow me to spend part of the summer of my 18th birthday outside the hospital with my parents, and to get away from the hospital for a while. Dad has a boat, and the first thing they wanted to know was how did I feel, and if the doctors had helped me to "find myself." The answer, of course was that I still heard the girl inside me, and when they just smiled. I soon found out that they had already got me all new girl's clothes for the vacation. Miniskirts, shorts, little blouses, a VERY small swimsuit, and even an absolutely GORGEOUS Formal evening Dress and gloves. Once again I could be the girl inside me, and they still supported and loved me. Completely, Finally, I was released from there to go to a Trade School, and at the age of 24 I found myself on the street, sort of, with nothing to show for having even been there. More garbage was heaped on my head, and since the only job I was able to get was driving a taxi, more years of being put down and dumped on followed, until now, at the age of 60, I have decided that no more will I let others tell me what to do or who or what I am, even though I know also that it may be too late for much of a life. I KNOW I am a girl ... despite the PHYSICAL outward appearance, and I will live to the fullest every second that I can, as the girl I have to this point not been permitted to fully and properly acknowledge. I have a few friends who support me, and a few others who don't know ... yet ... and I am happy again for the first time in so many years that I cry bitterly for all the lost time. What will be the next step? HRT? SRS? I don't know. What I DO know is that there is a girl peeking shyly out from behind the steel shutters that have been welded into place by years of denial and hiding, and which are only now beginning to be cut apart to let in the light of love and truth and joy. Doctors again, and they are telling me that I CAN’T be physically complete, due in part to all the stuff that went on before, and now I have blood clots and allergies, but I will do what I can and maybe, just maybe, someday there will be a way to become complete in EVEY way, the way I should have been all those many painful years ago. A start, but not the end, and whatever comes, I know who I am, and what I MUST be. Kliah Denise January 7, 2000 ___ (-._.-) So it's not a Bunny ... ((^)) I think I'll keep it anyway! <gryn> ()-B-() ICQ # 30274416 http://geocities.com/WestHollywood/Chelsea/6028 ( 5 ) Kliah Denise (and Dennis, ocasionally) (_) (_) Trying to live FemFurry ... ALL the time! |
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