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Earliest three memories of childhood related to Gender identity
At age 4, my Mother, two sisters, one brother and soon to be Stepfather, moved into a new house after my Mum split from my bio-farther. I started nursery school and made friends with a girl (Kate) who apparently just lived around the corner from me. After nursery school Kate asked if I would like to come to hers to play, I accepted the invitation, At Kate’s house she suggested we play dress up, in the conservatory was large trunk full of wigs dresses, petticoats, shoes and accessories. With eyes open wide and a gleaming smile I picked a long white petticoat, blond wig, loads bead necklaces and a pair of her Mums old shoes. I was in heaven, I was me. Every day after nursery I would rush home hoping I would be allowed to go to Kate’s to play (play dress up) and most nights was allowed. This went on for a few months. Until one day I was told Kate had moved and I never seen her again. I was devastated. This is the first memory I have of my childhood can not remember anything of my childhood before this.
The second memory is at the same age and coming up to going to Primary School, my older Sister was already at the same Primary School. But I did not want to go to school, all I wanted was to stay home with my Mum, I remember my Mum must of noticed I was not keen, remember Mum saying to me, you can ware a uniform like your sisters. This cheered me up a little as in my mind I thought Mum meant the same bottle green box pleated skirt, bottle green cardigan and ribbons in my hair. But no, I got a green jumper and grey shorts passed to me to try on. The disappointment filled my head to my toes. Suppose from then on hated school.
Just turned five, the third memory is when I was asked if I wanted to change my name after my Mum and now step farther got married. I couldn’t believe it, change my name, I was just about to say yes, and I like the name Lucy. But again, disappointment descended as they meant my surname.
The things we remember, have loads moor which I will post when I put pen to paper or finger to keyboard.
All the best to all, take care
Lucy Liz
My mother’s White rain boots, parsley under the lilac bush in grandma’s yard, Vietnam War
These are not my first three childhood memories, though they are the first three trans memories for me.
#1 this is my first memory. I can not go back any further though I have tried.
I was 5, the day was Halloween. The neighbor was taking us to school. We were to have a costume party that day at school. I was confused as I was in the car with the prettiest ballerina wearing a pink leotard and tutu with blond hair gathered into braids.
“Who is this little girl,” I remember wondering? I don’t remember playing with her in the neighborhood.
Then “she” greeted me. I was totally shocked as this little girl was the driver’s son, Fred. After recovering from my confusion I was depressed the rest of the day, my party ruined. For it was then that I realized I was not a girl and would never be one though I deeply longed to be just like that little ballerina.
#2 – 9 years old. The neighborhood kids, my sisters and myself were in the garage playing together. There was a large box of old clothes so we began to play dress up. As I dug through the box I found a cute pleated brown skirt. I remember without a moment’s hesitation I slipped it on over my pants and began to walk around the garage stating, “I’m a girl everyone. Look I am a girl.” Everyone laughed at me. I was devastated and through tears spoke back, “No, for real, I’m a girl.” The mocking / teasing continued. I took off the skirt and left the group to go cry.
#3 – my two sisters and I were home alone. I must have been about 11 or 12. My sisters wanted to play in the lawn sprinkler so they put on their one piece bathing suits. I asked if I could join them and if it would be OK to wear one of their swimsuits. I made them promise never to tell dad or mom. They agreed and three “girls” ran and had a delightful time playing in the sprinkler. I remember feeling so natural and right in that swimsuit and in that situation. Never had any activity up to that point in my life brought me such delight. Later when we had to change out into our street clothes, I remember feeling so deflated and foreign getting back into my boy clothes.
For as long as I can remember I have longed to be a girl / woman and today self identify as a woman.
Intersting topic. Three memories? Ok…
1. There’s an old family story told to me by my mother that I was wearing a girls bathing suit as a toddler because it was a hand me down which was all they had. On that photo, that child is smiling beautifully.
2. The first time I tried on a pair of panties… the fabric felt more luxurious and smelled diferrent it than anything I had ever experienced, The way it hugged the body. The electric satisfying thrill overwhelmed me. I couldn’t explaining, but I knew I wanted more.
3. When I saw the Rocky Horror Picture Show at age 12, I discovered that there was a name for those like me. And I wasn’t alone. The message was overwhelmingly positive… don’t dream it. Be it.
Here my 3. Sorry in advance for the long post.
1. This is one of my first memories as a child. When I was 4, I went shopping at a local department store with my mother, sister, aunt, and cousin. At one point we were all in the women’s dressing room. I wandered into an empty stall and found a bra, which I tried to put on. Unfortunately my aunt walked in a minute later and snatched the bra away. She gave me a stern warning that boys should never wear girls clothes. AFAIK, she never told my mother, or at least I never heard of it again.
2. When I was 11, I became curious about my mother’s lingerie hanging in the bathroom or laundry room. I would run my hands over the fabric and notice how much nicer it felt than my rough cotton undies. One day I worked up the courage to put on a pair of panties. I quickly became excited and almost made a mess! Lingerie = pleasure! I was hooked! Over the course of several months I progressively wore more of my mother’s lingerie, to the point of fully dressing in her panties, bra, hose, and girdle. I also discovered wearing lingerie was more than a means to physical pleasure. I felt an indescribable sense of peace and calm. Nothing else in my life came close to replicating what I felt. I daydreamed about what it would be like to be a girl. When the time came to take off the lingerie, I felt like I was losing a part of myself. I hated taking it off. One day I decided I needed lingerie of my own, and that led to number 3.
3. I was 12 and didn’t have any money. Never mind that buying lingerie was simply not possible for a boy in the 1970’s. I decided to pinch a pair of mother’s pantyhose. I’d developed a special love for hosiery, so it was top of my list. My plan was to gradually pinch more items. Well, 12 year old male logic tends to be faulty. My mother noticed the missing pantyhose the next day and went on a unsuccessful hunt. She assumed my sister took them and was lying about the theft. Clearly this plan wasn’t going to work. I needed a Plan B. I found it in my neighborhood. I would sneak out of the house at night and scour neighborhood clothes lines. Most families didn’t own clothes dryers so the pickings were ripe. It was a dark time that I’ll always regret. Yes, I was a juvenile delinquent for several years. I never got caught in the act. But each of my parents found my stash on separate occasions. Amazingly neither of them told the other. But each occasion was ugly in it’s own right. Of course I went on one more campaign. Then I stopped. Around that time I went away to school and brought my stash of lingerie with me. I lived alone in a small apartment. For the first time ever, I could freely wear lingerie, which I did. I often under dressed when on campus. Eventually I got a part-time job and a credit card. I bought my first lingerie items and a pair of high heels from J.C. Penney mail order when I was 21. I had no idea that was the beginning of a decades long struggle with gender identity that wouldn’t end until I was 55.
Thanks for reading. Emily
before school age – played alone mostly or in the group of boys and girls; best friend was the girl down the hall (we lived in a huge apartment building) I preferred playing with girls and never cared much for the games most of the neighborhood boys played.
Second grade – the sister who was our teacher called my parents too school to discuss with them “your child has a problem “he’s” not normal he has “bedroom eyes”…..
pre-teen experimenting with my body and pinching my male member at the point of organism to stop the “spurting” because none of the ladies in my fathers magazines looked like they had “wet spot” but they all looked so happy like they had been enjoying everything about being a woman
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