My father was in the service, which meant I spent the first 5 years of my life moving from place to place. Its a pity I wasn't a little older, or I might have appreciated that opportunity more. To walk inside the castles of Germany, to see Paris from the Eiffel tower, to hear the chimes of Big Ben, these were some of the experiences I took for granted. Unfortunately, it couldn't last. My father, suffering from severe depression, committed suicide when I was 5. We had to return to Canada and buried him. Then things got worse. 2 years after his death, I was introduced to the monster who would take my innocence and would spend the next 2 years in Hell. No sooner had I escaped that crisis when my mother remarried, to an abusive alcoholic who would remove my last connection to my gender. With these two men in my life, my fate seemed sealed.