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One old tomgirl


Inge-el

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Hi all. Call me Inge -- actually Ingrid but Inge will do. I have a boy name (I was identified as a male at birth) but it does not matter. But let me tell you my story.

-----

I am one of the last of the pre-boomers. In the 1940s I was a boy who much preferred to play with girls, and who really couldn't stand noisy, stinky boys. It worked; I was just one of the girls, at home, in the neighborhood or on the playground at school. Actually, the boys didn't want too much with me, either. It was, as I said, the 1940s and there was a lot that was not known at the time; nothing was known about puberty blockers and no one would have thought about hormones. Christine Jorgensen had not yet educated the country. In any event, my parents were very conservative religiously, and I don't suppose they would have been comfortable with a gender change. To give them credit, though, I cannot recall any disapproval on their part of my tomgirl ways -- I was just accepted and loved.

My girlhood ended -- and not well -- when, about the age of 12 my family moved to the farm country in the Middle West. I was ripped out of what had been a small but comfortable and supporting group of girls and dropped into a totally different culture and a place where I had no girlfriends. Actually, almost no friends at all. For about six years it was a tale of bullying and harassment, some of it quite physical. The reason was not too hard to discern; something that happened from time to time was a group of boys would grab me and force me into the girl's bathroom and then barricade the door so that I couldn't get out. It was, I think, a perfect storm: new culture, gender issues, religion and no supporting friends.

It was during these these years that I started praying to God that I might go to sleep a boy and wake up a girl. I did that for years, and, well, it never happened.

If the community was hostile, I lived in a home with books, music and had the experience of being a part of a strong and loving family. I was the oldest of four and so had child care responsibilities; I knew how to feed a baby and how to change a diaper. I also learned to cook and sew.

College years were supposed to be the years when we paired off, found our mates and started families. It did not happen. Let's just acknowledge that this tomgirl was not very good at getting dates with women and was not seeking men either. I did, however, find myself part of a group of women who were not uncomfortable with a not very masculine boy and so, once again, I had a place where I could just be one of the girls.

It was the Vietnam era, and military service was part of the deal. Let me just say that spend a few years in a community of men -- feeling all the time that I was there under false pretenses -- and that I never saw combat and I never killed anyone.

-----

About forty years ago, I went into therapy. My therapist was not specifically a gender therapist -- I don't know if any existed at that time -- but that was the issue and the topic. The question on the table was should I have a sex change -- that is how we put in in those days. It was kind of an all or nothing, yes or no thing, As far as I could tell, there was really only one script: a period of discernment, a couple of years of living as a woman with falsies, wig and falsetto, and if that worked. then hormones and surgery. I opted not to go that route.

I chose to live as a man. I knew what I was doing, but it seemed like the lesser of two evils. The prospect of what life as transsexual woman seemed, well, scary, and fraught with peril, and with few rewards. I took the tomgirl and I put her in a trunk, locked it, put it in the attic and, for good measure, locked the door.

I got married, had a child, a boy. The marriage is now over. My son has grown into a fine young man, and we are very close, and I am very proud of him, and of who and what he has become.

There is a topic now, reparative therapy, and while largely discredited, it seeks to straighten out homosexuals and to convert them into normal heterosexuals. There is also a saying that a person who is his own lawyer has a fool for a client. I suppose that what I did was to try to be my own reparative therapist. I am sure that I had a fool for a client. In any event, it did not work.

I have tried, but I have never been able to keep the tomgirl in the attic. From time to time she has broken out and come to remind me that no, I am not a man, and never was, and always, I forced her back into her prison.

The last time that the tomgirl came, though, it was different. I did not force her back to the attic. What I realized is that I am the tomgirl. She is not a part of me that I can detach and keep out of sight. Furthermore, she is, I think, my soul. I think that the reality is that I never succeeded in getting her into the attic, that she has always been, not just a part of me, but the best part of me. Indeed, she is who I am.

-----

I don't know what to do with this. I am in my seventies, and it seems a bit late to transition. In any event, it is too late for me to be a teen-age girl. I missed the chance to be a young woman and to be a woman in the prime of life. It seems that the only thing still open is to be an old woman, and I am not sure that I want to do that. I don't care a fig about bathrooms. Dolly Parton said it best: "I don't care which bathroom you use, just wash your hands." As to pronouns, he, she, whatever. Whatever you are comfortable with is fine with me.

I think that what I want most is to be in the company of women, just to be one of the girls. I want to pour a cup of coffee, sit down and just talk for a while.

Inge

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  • Forum Moderator

Welcome Inge. I was also a child of the 40's although a bit younger i didn't start transition until the 63. I also missed the sweet times of youth as the person i felt i was meant to be. I became a pretty good man in many ways and like you often feel myself to be a tomboy.

Point is your not alone and still capable of doing new things. I'm glad you found us. Get that cup of coffee and come join us. We do cake and cookies as well at times.

Hugs,

Charlize

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  • Admin

I am 68.5 right now, so I am not far behind you, but at 60 and close to killing myself, I came out as well and have been being me for nearly 8 full years. (3.5 post op). Welcome here and enjoy.

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  • Forum Moderator

Hi Inge

Relax here with friendly people :)

Many have similar backgrounds so can relate well to yours

Nice to meet you

Tracy x

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Hello Inge and welcome to Laura's. A friend of mine had surgery almost a year ago. She is 64 now. People have transitioned in their seventies. I enjoy the company of women and had some wonderful times. Enjoy your time here.

:)

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Guest KerryUK

Hi Inge,

Welcome and thanks for telling us your story. I'm in my early 50's and could also feel sad about the missed years - but I'm not. I refuse to let those thoughts take over. The way I see it is that although it would have been lovely to transition and have the surgery years ago - was I ready? Was I strong enough to go through with it? Did I have the confidence? I think you get the drift.

I think on reflection, the answer to the questions would have been NO. The time when I moved forward with my life was right and I think (as a result) the outcome has been much better than it could have been. So, I would say that looking at where you are now and what you have is still precious.

The bunch here are a lovely lot, they really are. Coming from over the pond - whenever anybody makes cakes, they never get to me fresh and so I can only imagine how lovely they taste (heehee). Do feel free to pop in and have a nice cuppa - the more the merrier (oh, and you can have my piece of cake if you would like - watch out for Jody, she'll have it instead if you aren't careful heehee).

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  • Forum Moderator

Hello Inge, Welcome to Laura's and please do join in to the conversation as that is what most of us have come here for. You'll find, if you haven't already looked around, that we are a warm and generous community.

I'm sorry to hear of the hardship in your youth; but society was different then. You did what you needed to do, as did many of us. I'm in my early 60's so I can relate to much of what you wrote. As you can tell from the other replies, there is no "too late" when it comes to transitioning and living your life happily.

Jani

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Hello Inge. Welcome to the sisterhood of the unrequited. I mean that with all affection. It is a tough life to lead. I pray for fulfillment for you in whatever form that takes.

Peace.

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  • 6 months later...
On 7/19/2016 at 10:49 PM, VickySGV said:

I am 68.5 right now, so I am not far behind you, but at 60 and close to killing myself, I came out as well and have been being me for nearly 8 full years. (3.5 post op). Welcome here and enjoy.

It's never to late to be you and happy. There are people in their nineties that transition. So nothing is wrong with you.

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