Reading a story here, that set me on trains of thought. The story had dark and light, but I identified with a bit I really do not like having identified with.

The idea of suicide by neglect. It rang true and hit home hard.

And a lot of the other issues about growing up and acceptance and self doubt etc.

So here is my story, not for enjoyment or sympathy but to see if I can put it into some semblance of order that makes sense to me. Some info will be relevant, some is just me hanging it into its place for me.

I was born mostly deaf in 1966, 2 older brothers JA born in 1953 and JI born in 1961, I was a late baby, born if family tales are to be believed of a power cut in Sept 1965! Mum could not carry a girl to term back in those days.

The deafness left me isolated (not deliberately, I just lived in my own world), I was an early reader but a late talker and still have a slightly odd accent and phonetic pronunciation (and terrible spelling from words that do not spell as they sound).

Otherwise I was a normal active child, chunky with broad shoulders even then. Then one day around 8 or 9, we watched a film, Julie Andrews, Mary Tyler More etc, called “Thoroughly Modern Milly” which had two epiphanies for this young person, firstly Mr Fox pretending to be a woman, for plot purposes, and a brief scene where the kidnapped girls are in cages, and my young brain went click click, I want to both BE the girls in the cage, and tied up in the cage. A real twofer!

But being a quiet child, always with ear infections and other stuff, I had no outlet to explain this in, and at that age, no understanding or vocabulary of what had just happened.

So it went on, ear aches and infections got worse and time to go to senior school (first year of comprehensive intake so no 11+). And an ENT consultant Surgeon who was a pioneer in my issues, and over 3 years and 6 major operations finally gave me relief from the ache and about 35% hearing (most people average 60 to 75%) which meant that along with lip reading I functioned normally in society while being an invisible outsider to most. Couple that with the earlier revelations and I was solitary. I missed about 1/3rd of senior school with ill health, no assistance then.

But found that I fancied girls, but also was jealous of their school uniform etc.

Things at home were… ok, JA was showing no signs of girlfriends and Dad was getting antsy, his only experience of gay men had been in the Navy, and he didn’t like it. So anything outside the norm was juggled with. JA was arty, did amateur dramatics and stuff, well we all did, even dad onstage once! Although more often he helped build sets and paint and such like. Mum was a frustrated Actress who as a young one had once played opposite Albert Finney in a Salford Youth theatre play, but her home life had its own issues and she never got to pursue it.

Anyway onto relevance, we lived on a farm (Dad was the herdsman) and had a large heated shed built onto the house, that became the drama groups costume store.

Oh boy did I have fun in their…..

But there were tensions at home about JA being gay, about JI being, well a thieving shit really, and I stayed quiet in my own private world. I had friends but not many and I really didn’t know how to talk to girls.

Otherwise I appeared as a quite normal, quite bright boy, played prop at school and county level once I was allowed to. Well first three years of senior school, no games lessons for me, time in the school library instead. So I had beena slightly chubby, non sporting loner. Bullied… oh yes.

But then unleashed and the bullies discovered that at the bottom of a ruck, a former victim with the memory of an elephant had hard boots and a good kicking motion, so I got verbals but no more roughing up after that. I was a good player and that helped, being good at something totally of my own, not related to family etc.

Then came the double whammy, JA came out as gay, properly to mum and dad, and left to live in brighton, JI was found to have taken the college money mum and dad had raised for him by doing flea markets etc at weekends after a full weeks work, and not paid the college (Agriculteral college, council did not pay all the fees and accommodation costs for them with grants). Amongst other things he bought himself a snooker queue…. He had earlier that summer been to a job interview a fair way away, and taken JA for company. On the way home he crashed into a gravel lorry and fell off an embankment. Had JA been in the front seat he would have been dead, as that was where the engine block finished. (For reference and to calender, he was 21 at this point and JA 29, I turned 16 that day and Prince William was born.)

Accidents happen, well yes, but when dad claimed on the insurance a problem came up, JI’s licence wasn’t real, so he was not legal to drive, he had lied about that to get the car. All hell broke loose when that and the college funds came out, along with JA having a brush with death deciding he wanted to be open about his life now. So I was not forgotten, but left to my own devices again.

Anyway I passed a goodly number of O’Levels that year and stayed on to 6th form, while deciding what I wanted to do. I knew I was a girl, but I also presented as very male and had boyish hobbies (apart from the amdram) etc. My career choices at that age were either Farrier college or university to do Geology or History.
Anyway Christmas disco at school, fancy dress, in the amdram cupboard was a full Royal Engineers Mess Uniform that could have been made for me. (not the ballgown I would have secretly liked to wear) And I wore that. I looked smart (normally unmade bed is my style) and sharp, and felt it too, like I was wearing armour. There was a gorgeous upper 6th girl (so 17/18) who was forward, together knew what she wanted etc, and she came as a female flasher. Long rain mac, and underneath, basque, stockings, heels, knickers and shoulder length gloves. She did partial flashes and showed leg, so nothing wanton or anything and even the teachers found it fun.

So she saw something she liked at the party, me, ME! Admittedly dressed as I was, I was gaining a lot more attention than normal, many comments and admiration and patted and tweaked bum as I passed the girls in the party area. So Miss Minx, decided what she liked, led me to an empty classroom and I got a long slow private flash of her in her glory, and my first full on long snog! We did more later, but that was all for that night and we dated until she went to Uni, much to my peers shock, I mean every boy was there for her taking, and she chose me. Any wonder I like strong women who lead….

So life was good, coming out of myself, 6 months with a great woman, then my world fell in. Because the council had still not been redeemed for JA’s missing money, I could not get grants, and I was bright, but not scholarship or bursary bright. So schoolwork fell away as pointless, the RN would not take me on health history grounds and….

So I entered the job market at 18, pinballed around, dated and failed to marry another girl (we both knew in hindsight we should have, but by then too late) discovered the Scene, discovered transvestites and shemales and transition (pre internet days here) and privately dressed but it didn’t scratch the itch the way someone else saying come here girl or you are my girl etc. did. Made friends etc, and the general joke amongst the female ones was always, you’ll make someone a lovely wife.

Despite being close to London I avoided the gay and drag scene, JA was performing a drag act as was his partner, and running into him at a club was more than I could cope with. So I stayed on the bdsm side that I knew he did not frequent.

Backtracking a little, when I was 18 or 19 I was signed off from the ENT as settled and all they could do was done. And because what I had had done was pioneering (something like the 8th person in the world to have the procedure) and I had had a lot of sick and hospital time etc. A follow up with a Psychiatrist was deemed useful, so along I went.

She was a lovely woman who got me talking, not just about school, but about everything in my life, and for the first time I admitted to another human being my gender issues. She asked a lot of things, listened even more, and we had 3 sessions and she said, “You would be a candidate for transition, tell me honestly, that this is the single most important thing to you, and I can start the process.”

And I couldn’t, fear, immaturity, worry about family reaction and 101 other things, and I could not say it.

But she understood, and simply said, the day you can, come back.

Having heard and read the stories of so many others I now realise the opportunity offered, on a plate to me back then.

But I didn’t take it, I bumbled along, work in the week, rugby at weekends, bit of here and there time grabbed.

Eventually moved out of home, started to have a life without family over my shoulder, so was heading into the time of possibilities, I had a Mistress, I got to be a girl, things were looking good.

Then mum had a heart attack, very ill, Dad 10 years her senior came apart and couldn’t cope. JI had vanished years ago, JA hid and I ended up moving back home as carer for them both. In the next 10 years held mum together when dad went, held JA together when his partner went, then mum went and I, I stopped. That is the only way I can describe it, I stopped. To the point of sat one afternoon with a bottle of vodka and a bottle of sleeping pills…..

Even now I do not know what stopped me, my cat curling up on me I think. But I had hit my own wall and came apart, but somehow I was carerless. Somehow I plodded on, I do not really know how, friends, bloodymindedness, not caring enough to take steps either way. I really don’t know. I piled on the pounds, did little exercise, did little socially, hell, getting out of the door could trigger an anxiety attack. Moved house multiple times, just as I am pulling out of this pit, JA has a brain tumour. Has it removed, but not safe to live alone, and as I live alone suggests we house share.

I agree, yeah, well. I am slowly and privately rebuilding my life and he is having his as independent as he can, works fine for 4 years, then Covid. Except he doesn’t have covid, but is diagnosed with esophageal cancer, too advanced to cure..... So 2 years later another loss, another black pit, another….. well bleakness.

So here I am 57, single, alone (no family left), social anxiety, panic attacks, over weight, over thinking, and a little lost.

This is not a sob story, I have covered salient points (to me) but I have lived, seen more of the UK than most, even if not travelled abroad, been places, done things.

But back into a passive holding pattern.

Thank you for reading.