my fight to be me the early yrs in my family

hi

i have a dear friend that i worked with that told me once

Rachel I cannot not imagine you being quiet? He was so right and a mentor of mine too.

here is some new info on me and my life

Hi

I am remembering more and more of my past and how I did not hide one part of me but instead tried to push the proverbial envelope in the 1970’s.  I now can recall now not only when I fought with my brother that I bite him but I also pulled his hair, scratched his face with my finger nails. My mother did not like any of this and in response to my nails scratching my brother she cut them so short a couple nails bleed. To that she said, “ well you will know better not to scratch your brother next time.”

 I also learned how to put boys in their place by my sister when she kicked my brother between the legs. So I tried out on my dad when he was trying to teach us to box and he wanted to kill me as he grabbed his crotch nearly falling to the ground lol.  I think on another note my sister learned from me that girls have equalizers such as the baseball bat from me.  my mother would say, “ see your what you sister learned from you? “ I would say, “ well it works.”  I swear to god estrogen is like truth serum with all the memories it recovers over time. 

Each time I displayed any girl like mannerisms my mother would say , “ you are not girl so stop acting like one.” As I got older I would sit in my dad’s chair and I would play with my hair and I think I started to cross my legs really feminine like I did today. I had a flashback today of playing with my hair in my mid teens and my mother said,” stop playing with your hair and uncross your legs.”  Then my mother would make me sit up military style in the chair with my hands on my lap. 

It is very apparent that I knew who I was from a very young age and my , as I cry and cry, my family and especially my mother and father did everything in their power to stop my feminine tenancies.  Mother nature can be delayed but not stopped.  Today the flashback of playing with my long curly hair in my dad’s chair is just another piece of the pie that growing by the day and hour.  Today I felt so alive and so me and yet as I cry again people tried to tell me who I am and how I should act to the point I told my mother, “ now today please tell me what you want me to do because I cannot make any choices by myself. So please tell me what you want me to do.” She would say, “ Donnie that is not how it is at all.” I would say, “ yes it is….. I cannot wait until I am 18 yrs old and I will be out of this house. “ she would say things like, “ where will you go and it is much harder then you think on your own.” I would reply, “ I will find a way out of this house by the time I am 18 yrs old.”  I just did not think the way out was the marines and in all honesty this choice enabled me to travel to 8 countries by the time I was 20 yrs old.  This gave me a prospective of the world not taught in classes or read about in any books.

Another classic example of how I was told what I like and what I could do in my family was my first adult bicycle.  We went to JC Penny’s to look at a bicycle for me. So I saw a bike that was light blue and what is called a girl’s bike. My mother said, “ that is a girl’s bike.” I said, “ I like it because it is blue.” ( I knew what I as doing and trying to frame in a way I could get a girl’s bike.) 

The discussion with my mother went back and forth and she tried to lead me to a red Foremost , JC penney’s brand of bicycle. I said, “ no I like the blue bike.” My mother said, “ you cannot have a girl’s bike. she also said, “ you cannot go around the neighborhood riding a girls’ bike.” I restated I want the blue bike and my mother said, “ it is the red bike , boys bike, or none at all.”  I said, “ I don’t want a bike then.” When we ate supper that night she told my father of the incident. I know my father laughed at me so I said nothing. I was simply quiet like I was not in the room. Then my mother said, “ we are going back to the store and do you want the red bike or not.” I guess I will take the red bike. so like so many other times in my childhood I was pushed in the proverbial corner and compelled to say yes t things I really did not want. ( this would have included clothes for school etc.) 

My mother knew who I was from an early age but did she want to admit any of the above would be a question that could only be answered with she was in denial until the day of her death.  Deny it or not at every avenue I presented a problem for any family in the 1970’s because I was not quiet about who I was nor what I liked which clashed with the boy image that was etched in my parent head. 

What was etched in my head is a slender sexy woman which at 55 yrs old , as I cry, I am still trying to achieve and this should not be the case.  I am still crawling and scratching for every inch as I move forward with surgery. I have made peace with the thought that I am prepared to die on the operating table to become Rachel. I did not pick this path, it picked me. I would not wish this on my worst enemy because it is a hell no one can imagine unless you go through it like I have for the last 50 yrs.

Consciously I knew from no later than 12 yrs old who I was and in Miss Benn’s comparative literature class when we read the poem “the path least taken” I knew that was me. I envisioned as we talked about the poem how some go to the left, some to right and I knew I was going somewhere in the middle. Now I was posing myself with the question what did all my feeling me and I had no idea nor heard of the word transgender until about 2 yrs later when we learned about transgenderism in Mr. Carson’s Biology Class. I talk in such detail about the how I remember both events because it demonstrates the clarity of the memories that only I have experienced while on estrogen.  Also when we talked about transgenderism it shocked my mind so much, in the moment that I uttered my lab partners name three times maybe in large part because I as wearing a girl thong in class. So by not later than 14 yrs old I knew there were others like me.   

Also during this time frame I pointed out Renee Richards who was a tennis play who had sexual reassignment surgery and my mother responded. “ you mean he.”  So based on this statement and my mother’s reaction to so much of my feminine mannerism I knew with a almost 100 percent of certainty I would be thrown out on the street if I say I am like Renee Richards. I also told my mother,” I wonder what would happen if I ran away” as we watched a commercial to help run away teenagers? “  my mother said, “ you run away you better keep on going …… do you want to end up like them.”  my mother knew who I was from an early age and the soft spoken ways were becoming much more pronounced.

Then about 16 yrs old my mother caught me and we both knew it. I had a large bulge in my white tube socks and under it was a thong. She asked me,” what is that?” I said, “ I don’t know.” She then said, “ is there something wrong with your ankle.” I said, “ no.” she did not want to really deal with a Renee Richards in our upstanding catholic family where her sister was a former sister of the catholic church.  Then again I was caught but this was even more pronounced when she asked me ,” aren’t you wearing underwear… none of your underwear in the laundry?”  I said, “ I am wearing underwear and that was true but girls thongs.”  Then to be a smart ass I would toss in the laundry my boys underwear with sneaker marks on it. My mother said, “ I know what you are doing with your underwear.” This game and tit and tack went on until I left from the marines when I was nearly 18 yrs old.

To recap what my mother knew beyond the above: I asked her to help carry her purse, why she stretched out her pantyhose’s, and I even knew which ear rings went with what shoes.  I also watched her put on her lipstick and make up. Additionally I never missed an opportunity to learn about being a woman as I watched my sister put on makeup. my mother would say,” your sister does not need to watch her put on her makeup.”

My mother knew who I was but was in denial and tried to keep this family secret hidden like so many families.  She went as far as to tell my grandmother which humiliated me. I just wanted to be me just like now. Just like years ago I have to fight every inch of the way for only the reason that I am not in a social norm that no longer exist but in the minds of people think the world is flat.  This is my prospective of the whole situation and is as logical as the world is flat. One thing  is so many in society think in a one dimensional way but sadly they fail to realize with live in a multiple dimensional world that is evolving exponentially as we talk. 

My friends have many things in common but the basis of our relationship is we see people as human beings who happen to be black, white, male, female etc.  The diversity of my experiences with people throughout the world has helped me evolve as human being and the small town mentality that plagues so many never had a chance to seed it nasty self in me. 

why? My father was from New York City and my mother was from a small town so there was diversity in my own family. On one side of my family were racist which I detested and on the other side was to look at people as human beings. I made my own choices at a young age and I make no apologies for those who I have offended from my hometown. The racial slurs and discrimination in my area was rampant and this spilled over into women in the work place and me.  I am going on and on but the whole thing is diversity builds strong communities and relationships and that means people like me too.

Some will say you are so strong Rachel and I will say only as strong as the people around me. when I fall down which is often on hormones I have some very strong women to help me get off the ground.  but surgery will test my strength and the women around me but I have no doubt surgery will come about soon. As one friend told me long ago about surgery and my mission to bring it to the forefront in society, “ Rachel if you cannot do then no one can.”