Me thinks it is time to write something. I’ve been reading T-Central for almost 7 years now. I have much to share, although my story may be a standard trans narrative for a girl born a boy, it will be my own.
The first complete name of a person I heard and remembered, outside of immediate family, was when my Mother scolded me with “do you want to be like Christine Jorgensen?!”, in a tone of voice that implied to be so, would the most horrible fate on earth. It was 1956, and Miss Jorgensen was tabloid sensation and fodder. Not long after that I once again pleaded for a new dress, as I was to start kindergarten school soon. This time Mom’s response was a kinder, but stern “little boys CAN’T BE little girls”. So, true to many accounts I’ve read of transwomen of my vintage, I also learned never to speak of my dilemma again. My Secret was born.