I write about so much to do with the GLBTQ community. This post really hits home with me. I thought that my readers would enjoy this too.
I was thirteen when my parents first busted me for dressing up.
I learned a lot of new mean sounding words that night, words that were a lot meaner even than sissy.
I learned that it was expected that I would grow up queer and that expectation was reason enough for my parents to start withholding love and affection.
I was such an obvious transkid every move I made, every thing I liked was cause for suspicion.
I got busted a lot over the next few years.
In 1962, I was 15. They found my clippings of April Ashley’s tabloid biography. They confronted me with it and I came out as transsexual for the first time.
My parents told me at that point:
“If you decide to be like that when you grow up, no one will ever love you, not a man, not a woman, not even queer men…
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