Chapter Two: the 1950's
I was a very compliant child; I always made a sincere effort to do everything my parents asked. However, unlike my brother and sister, I started to set boundaries. I would always reach a point where I would draw a metaphorical line, which I would refuse to cross. This made my father angry and forever soured my relationship with him. Even tough may father was somewhat transgendered, he would never have allowed me to exhibit such behavior.
In 1952, Christine Jorgenson was in all the headlines, which I never noticed. I do remember that L’Abner changed his sex for a while, and I thought that was interesting. There was also comic book about a spaceship crash-landing on Mars. Everyone was killed except a man and his girlfriend. Not realizing she had survived, he changed his sex and then destroyed the laboratory. The irony was that the girlfriend came back to confront a woman instead of a man. This self-service sex-change was far-fetched, but I found the story interesting. When my mother found the comic, she demanded that I never again buy such a comic. I did not understand what the big deal was. I did not know that a certain hysteria had gripped the mothers in America, a fear that sons everywhere might go the route of Christine Jorgenson. Neither I nor my mother could have understood the futility of her actions.
It was in the fifth grade that I began to feel different. I started noticing women and girls. I could not help staring at them, especially noting the different manner in which their clothes fit them. Part of this was a developing sexual interest, which no one explained to me, but there was more. I also began to identify with the girls, imagining that I could be like one of them. I especially remember the girl in the blue dress who sat in front of me in my fifth grade science class. While I imagined what it would be like to be her, I had orgasms right in class. Since these orgasms involved no private parts, no one paid any attention.
Most of the girls I watched had not even progressed much into puberty; that happened to most next year in the sixth grade. So what was really so interesting? I think both the girls and I were going into puberty, and I had never been told about such a thing. As a co-reaction, I began to over-identify with the girls. My boundaries did not differentiate between "getting" the girl and "being" the girl.
I was certainly too embarrassed to discuss such feelings. When everyone was away from home, I started dressing in my mother’s clothes, but the thought of anyone finding out was devastating, and I was quickly out-growing my mother’s sizes. So once I had wrecked a pair of her high heels, I stopped doing it. I do not know if they ever suspected me, but they grilled my brother and sister incessantly. I resolved to never crossdress again.
As the years passed, the feelings did not subside; I just denied that they meant anything. I was harassed by a certain group of boys in high school. They knew I was different; they just could not figure out in what way I was different. Again, exposure would have been devastating.
I was totally ignorant about any concepts of sexuality or gender. My mother had once asked me when I was going to start dating. I literally had not understood what she was talking about. The worse part of the decade was, by far, going through puberty. Yes, I know it is rough for all kids, but it was devastating for me; I was developing physical features that I did not want, especially the protruding chin and the over-generous beard with whiskers like iron. I was being marked for life.
Even if I had known what I know now, I could not have done anything about it. My parents, especially my father, would not have been happy. Hormone therapy really did not exist in the 1950's. Even now, the therapy designed to prevent the onset of the undesired male features is exceedingly hard to get..
Last Modified Wednesday, January 08, 2003