Written by Damien Knight
“Pinocchio: Am I a real boy?
Blue Fairy: No, Pinocchio. To make Geppetto’s wish come true will be entirely up to you.
Pinocchio: Up to me?
Blue Fairy: Prove yourself brave, truthful, and unselfish,
and someday you will be a real boy.
Pinocchio: A real boy!”
Oh, how like Pinocchio I am. The blue fairy looking at me and I say am I a real boy? No, Damien, you must do that on your own. You have to become a real boy. How unfair it seems others are born real boys, but I was born a “puppet.”
When I was little I use to dream about dressing as a boy. I was six years old when I learned I wasn’t a little boy. I was running outside with my shirt off when my dad told me I couldn’t.
“But the other boys do daddy”
And he said “You are not a boy you are a girl.”
I cried that night and imagined what it would be like to dress up as a boy and have a boys name and go into Disney world and be able to use the boys restroom.
Over time, I sort of forgot about it, although my fantasy always played out when I played pretend with my sisters so I had the outlet. I always was the male character in our games. Whenever we played pretend they all played females, even the tomboy of our family Jessie but I was a male. So I suppose that’s where the fantasies stayed. In these games I was “the puppet trying to be real”
In third grade I had sexual feelings for people but I was shocked to realize that I had a crush on my best friend Ashley. She became my first girlfriend and only girlfriend. When she moved away, I found myself attracted to Heather, but I knew I couldn’t ask Heather. I knew my parents thought being gay was immoral. Imagine if they knew that I didn’t see myself as gay but as a straight boy in a girl’s body.
Then puberty hit and oh it was horrid but my step-mom unknowingly relieved some of the pain for me she had my hair cut like a boys and stopped forcing me in dresses. She even said I would have made a cute little boy. This propelled my mind to want to tell my parents ‘make me a boy please’ but no my father was the youth coordinator in our church and my mother a kinship leader. They openly objected to homosexuality and trangenders. I knew I had to bury it.
Then I was diagnosed with bipolar. I spent years hating my own image in the mirror and being suicidal and homicidal and wishing that everyone would understand me. I got out of institutions at 19.
While in them there were days I was so drugged that I had forgotten who I was. Once out slowly I remembered that I was Pinocchio and I shoved it back and threw myself at every man I met so I would feel like a real girl so I wouldn’t have to accept that I wasn’t female inside. I met wolf and truly fell in love with the only man I could ever love. And I was afraid of losing him so I swallowed it and lied to him.
We got married and truths I hid I confessed. Yes I like women I told him, but I loved him and he’s the only man for me. I told him during a Maury show on sex changes that when I was younger, I wanted to be a boy. He laughed he thought I was joking. So I laughed too and said nothing.
Just before Wolf left for boot camp I attempted suicide. I was committed, and when I came out I knew I had to either keep burying and die or face the truth. Then wolf left for boot camp and after a month of him being gone all of it unraveled for me. I was one of the boys when I was a kid. My old school photos I looked at them and I looked like a butch lesbian. Albeit a handsome one but still, with my appearance how did no one know? Even in sixth grade a teacher had mistaken me for a boy. How did I live through this long denying it? Would I have gone through the change, like I had seen others do, at 16 if I just been brave enough?
Then I had to tell Wolf “remember that one time when I said I wished I was a boy. I wasn’t kidding.”
Do you know how it feels to tell your husband that? Especially after watching shows where marriages are ruined because the husband gets a sex change and the wife can’t stay with a woman. And see I don’t want him leaving me just because I am the wrong ‘gender’ for him. I want him to love me for me. In the end it’s all I really wanted, to be able to be me.
POST SCRIPT: I wrote this when my daughter was 6 months old she is now 8. It was my coming out blog in 2009/2010 on my old now defunct myspace blog. I have been openly trans since then and on my fourth year of testosterone treatments. My husband ended up staying and encouraging me to transition because he never wanted to come home to find me half conscious again. I encourage you if you are LGBT and scared to come out, don’t be. It may sound cheesy but it does get better and there are people who will stand by you.
If you wish to help support my transitioning journey you can donate at my GoFundMe The Shadow’s Journey. Thanks.
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