Hello everyone, I'm James, my wife and I are both transgender. We came out while living in Mississippi. It went horribly. Friends stopped responding to phone calls, would only answer texts sparingly, and certainly would never return a missed call. Family turned against us, seeing us both as mentally disturbed, attention seekers, they had been dealing with since they were delinquent adolescents. This was just the final straw, following drugs, self-destructive behaviors, reckless lifestyles, and bad relationship choices. We were written off, by everyone, spare a few non-judgmental distant friends. It was detrimental for our family, not just us two adults but our children who now have to live without their grandparents, aunt, and others because our family members judged us negatively.
Knowing that we are both survivors with PTSD, that stemmed from childhood abuses, I can say that I feel the true reason we were done away with is because they couldn't accept they had failed us. Let me elaborate here. I was about eleven, I finally got up the courage to speak about sexual molestation that occured when I was five. At that time, we lived off of Perkins Rd, I had a six year old friend that lived next door. She happened to have an older brother that was a teenager and in high school. He would take my friends toys, hide them in his room, and have me to come into his room, and exchange sexual favors for the toys. I finally told my father, years later and he laughed at me, told me I was absurd, there was no way that happened. Not long after that he took me for psychological evaluation. I had stolen jewelry to pawn, I had stolen money from my step-mothers wallet, I destroyed a quilt her grandmother made her for a keepsake. They were at the end of their limits with me, and this "lie" was more than they could handle. But, it wasn't a lie. I was afraid to talk to them for so long, because I thought since I showed my private areas I would be punished. When I finally did have the guts, it went way worse than I could have expected. The psychologist was told I have a habit of lying and my parents wanted answers. I was given a 400 question survey about all my experiences, and instructed to be truthful. When I returned it for review and discussed the answers with the counselor, she agreed to see me for several sessions. I went twice a week, on Tuesday and Thursday for several weeks. At the end of it, the "professional" concluded I had fabricated all of my experiences I endured while living with my mother four years. Being molested, being left alone for days at a time, having little to nothing that eat, watching my mother be raped, used, and sell herself to support her crack addiction.. what child do you know making up stories like these? What kind of sick, twisted person did my father believe I was? Here's the part I can't comprehend, if my father actually believes that I lied about all that, then why did he fight to remove me from my mother's custody? Why did the police get called out so many times for me being home alone under the age of 8? He knew atrocious things were taking place but he refuses to acknowledge the pain I went through, he refuses to accept that I wasn't a liar. Now, not only does this not end here, but also it extends to my sister and others. When I would tell them I had seen dad coming home drunk and puking, he would say I lied. Maybe it doesn't matter to you, but when I used to go visit my parents, my step-mother and I would gab about almost everything, but my father wouldn't engage me in conversations about my life, activities, or otherwise. Being excluded matters to me. He would be busy working around with his horses or dogs, then eat, then lay on the couch continuing to turn the volume up to drown out my voice. Does this sound like a person that is interested in their child? Does this sound like a man that loves and protects his children? Not to me. I tell you this to bring light to a life long issue. A painful existence that was a daughter, a wife, a mother. A true horror story at best, but now I'm a husband, father, and the man that I was born to be. I deal with my demons from the past like most with post traumatic stress. But I'm ready to close the door to that ugly past and make a beautiful future! As a child, people that truly were female picked me out to make sure I knew that I was different somehow and they wanted to know why. I was cornered by over a handful of folks in the "girls" locker room during gym class. They pushed me back onto the toilet, drew a penis on my face with a permanent marker, asked me was I gay, asked me what was wrong with me, why was I such a freak? This was in seventh grade. It wasn't just me that felt I was different, it was everyone around me that could tell too. Annette used to tell me I was the manliest woman she knew. What was missing was me connecting the dots. At school I was targeted for bullying and harassment. At home I had a controlling, misogynistic father that would fat shame women, and dismiss me. I felt like the ugly duckling for a long time because I was overweight too. Not accepted, respected, or validated my whole life by every person I encountered, until Katherine. In one fashion or another I've been objectified, suppressed, abused, mistreated, ignored, bullied, targeted, and often excluded. This is not just my narrative. This happens in a lot of people's life that are seen as "different", including by their own parents. Please find ways to listen to others, respect each other, embrace those that hurt.. because if we don't, they can come to the point of self destruction. In some that is completing suicide, in others it's destroying their back, using drugs, loosing their career, their family ties, and end up here like we have.. struggling to start over.. over and over again..
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Authors:James and Katherine are a transgender couple raising two kids. They were southerners when coming to understand themselves as trans. Ultimately it lead to a nearly three year road trip to find home. Now they are re-housed and still focused on outreach in the transgender community! Archives
October 2020
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