Dolls and skirts are not part of my life. I play soccer and I sing tenor in the high school choir.
It is 1979 and I am 15.
I marry a man who thinks he knows what I need, but he does not. It is 1985 and I am 21.
A new beginning. Enrolled in a new university, in a new town.
I use the neutral form of my name, my hair is short, my clothes give no clue to my gender.
It is 1991, I am 27 and I know not what I want, only that I am not comfortable in the role I am supposed to play.
A stunning new life suddenly opens, it is called the world wide web.
I meet people who, like me, do not know why they have to conform.
Some are sure where they want to go, others not at all.
Voraciously, I read of those who did decide to change, about their pain and anguish before, their relief and joy when done.
I try to imagine myself, not just as an androgynous being in between, but as a man. I talk and read and actively dress and behave the part.
It is 1997 and I am 33 and sometimes I am happy but just as often I am not.
I fall in and out of love, I mirror myself in others and and still do not know who and what I am and it hurts so much that I do not want to live any more.
It is the year 2000, I am 36 and I try to kill myself.
I learn and I live and I love.
Slowly, but clearly I realize and I resolve:
I am who I am and I can try to be who I want. I do not need to conform and I do not need to prove.
It is 2007, I am 43 and I finally start to feel at home in myself.