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Jenna's Bio


Guest LauraJen

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Guest LauraJen

I've read some other people's stories on here and I've been inspired to write my own

I find talking about my history hard, but enjoy it nonetheless. It's mainly because I'm not sure how to actually start writing about it.

Back in the very beginning, the earliest signs may have come up at about the age of six. I've always aligned myself with the female side of traditional gender binaries, yet how is a six-year old supposed to understand why? Especially one who was brought up as a boy right from day one of my life, and having no sisters' toys to take or clothes to put on. I may even have been about five when I tried to walk in mum's shoes right in front of her, not that it meant anything back then. Nephew and niece, son and daughter, blue and pink, it goes on. My mum became pregnant for the final time in my lifetime - I so badly wanted that sister to play with, but it was taken away from me by nature. Slowly but surely, the word "boy" felt more and more like a misfit. I wanted to hang out with girls but was told not to because it's wrong and I'd get bullied. The times when I could do this was when my mum would invite her best friend over for dinner, or something like that, and she would bring her two daughters along. It was weird how I felt like one of them. Sure, I didn't like Barbies or anything like that, but I mainly put that down to upbringing - if you bring a girl up purely on boys' toys, chances are she won't appreciate them. I equally disliked Action Man and toy guns. I never really played with anything other than Lego for any length of time: nothing seemed to fit and was endlessly hopping from one thing to the next.

I liked the cartoon The Powerpuff Girls, Pound Puppies, pink things, flowers, dolphins and mermaids, but most of it was invisible. My mum definitely saw a few things though, but it's frustrating how now she seems to swear blind that she didn't. I remember she told me in idle conversation once that I played with pushchairs and dolls in nursery school (the carts you put babies in, don't know if there's an American equivalent of the word, sorry) - I didn't dream it, yet she denies it when I next brought it up. The difference between boys and girls didn't extend far beyond what they wore to me, but in school swimming lessons, with the changing rooms, I felt as if I belonged on the other side. I told someone I wanted to be a girl at the tender age of 10, and hid myself into submission after then after I got a bad reaction. I developed a fascination for name books, finding a future name for myself, which i eventually did until Jenna came along much later.

I thoroughly hated puberty, especially how it was changing my voice. Predictions of me being a six-foot tall man left me distressed (thankfully the height part didn't happen - I'm not saying there's anything wrong with six-feet tall women, but from a TG point of view it's best not to be). I was traumatised when I developed facial hair for the first time and a girl in school noticed. A teacher said to my parents one evening that i was not one of the lads - my behaviour and overall character was distinctly different. When it came to PE, I cared more about breaking records for my time in the changing rooms more than for running laps round a field. I was never into sports and always had to play soccer or rugby, although I eventually got the opportunity to play games like badminton and volleyball in a mixed group which I found much easier to deal with. It's not easy when girls all around you are developing breasts and hips, when you're getting more masculine. After sex education they had to start thinking about things like pregnancy and stuff. Instead I spent those lessons being forced to read an entire section of a booklet about male sexual health, looking at drawings of boys examining that part of their bodies down below. I didn't used to be outright disgusted by my existing body parts, because back then I had patience and I knew it would get better eventually. It hasn't, and my relationship with my body isn't great. I can't look at it, can't feel it, hate what it does and what it looks like, and sex is definitely out of the question. In fact, relationships are, altogether. I don't want to be someone's boyfriend, have sex with a woman, have kids, be a dad, etc. The very thought upsets me.

After I finished school I had a year to improve my life before I went into university. This eventually turned out to be 15 months of hell when I ended up being stuck at home for all of it, in a part of the country that has literally nothing in terms of support. I had a trans-related family crisis right at the start of it and I decided that enough was enough. I went to a psych after seeing a GP (for the second time, as if the first time wasn't bad enough). The psychs I saw knew nothing of trans issues, handled it totally unprofessionally and even broke confidentiality to my mum, right in front of me. I should have complained, but I was crushed into submission with emotional blackmail and I just gave up. I was told that I'm not to do this while my grandparents' generation are still around, because they'd recently gotten over a crisis of their own so this was deemed too much for them. I spent the rest of my time before uni, nearly a year, at home. I tried to get a job, but nobody wanted me. It was like being in prison.

With the help of friends, and the power of music (as I am a keen musician) I eventually made it and got to that time of my life where I could regain some control. At around this time I lost my grandmother to cancer, which hurt because as well as being tragic in itself, I know my grandmother wanted a girl when i was born. Thanks to the emotional manipulation and abuse, she never knew, and I was left devastated. I pressed on, and made great friends. Also for the first time ever I got involved with a TG youth group, and attended a total of six times in my first year. On the last of these, I took some girl clothes along and changed there. I felt totally natural then, it really made a difference. It went down in personal history as being the first time I was fully in gender role in a social situation, and I loved it.

The summer of 2011 was long and hard, because all the benefits of my first year had been reaped and I essentially had to endure more of what I had before. I turned 21, which was hard because I felt as if i was missing out on a major milestone as my true self. I should have been out celebrating like most people do, not stuck at home celebrating it privately with my parents. Getting dragged along to other people's parties is equally dysphoria-inducing - no TG person wants to watch men or women enjoying the occasion from the sidelines. Christmas and New Year was also hard, for the exact same reasons, and getting cards with the wrong things on them and presents inappropriate for my identity don't help matters.

That's all I have to say for myself here - my story so far, and I hope it continues on to see great things happening in the near future.

Jenna

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Guest SaleneAlexis

You are in the right place. Know that we are here for you to generally talk about things, or vent if you need to. Always know here you have a bunch of ears, no waiting.

Stephanie

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