- Under 5 years old
- 6 to 10 years old
- 11 to 20 years old
- 21 to 30 years old
- 31 to 40 years old
- 41 to 50 years old
- 51 or older
- November 24, 2018 at 9:20 pm #25456
When I was little I just figured I’d grow up to be a little girl and things would be fine. By the age of 4 or so I was getting the impression something had gone horribly wrong with that assumption.
How old were you when you knew ‘something’ was going on?
- January 13, 2019 at 12:28 am #31559Valen Red WolfParticipantFREE
My coming into consciousness I thought I was like my dad and brothers. Unfortunately I soon realized they saw me as like my mom and sis. I tried to tell my mom when she put me in girl clothes. After a while I gave up telling her… she didn’t get it?…she didn’t believe me? well, whatever it was I just didn’t wear them. She got tired of fighting to put them on me only to have me take them off immediately. So I could just wear jeans and t shirt and be somewhat comfortable. Since then it has been trying to balance myself with what other people see me as. I am close to fifty years old and I am pursuing hormone therapy to change how my body looks. I think it will be the proper puberty I should have gone through and become as close to the guy I see myself (as and was meant to be), in my opinion. Thank you if you read my answer.
- January 12, 2019 at 12:49 pm #31544Cassandra McDanielParticipantSILVER
I was about 4 years old when I discovered I wanted to be female. I had told my mom that I wanted to be a girl so she knew that I had wanted to become a girl. I had started crossdressing, wearing my sister’s clothes and my mom started buying me girls clothes of my own for my wardrobe. I knew it was something I wanted to be at that young of an age. I was always into girls things like Barbie’s and playing dolls and dressing up as a girl.
- January 10, 2019 at 5:41 pm #31513Izzy GrondinParticipantFREE
- January 10, 2019 at 1:24 pm #31511Charlene VParticipantFREE
1960 – I remember the ah ha moment as my earliest childhood memory. I was going to our school Halloween party dressed in my Indian brave costume complete with a feather, bow and arrow, and war paint. The neighbor was driving us and when I got in the car, there sharing the back seat with me was the prettiest blonde ballerina in her pink leotard, tutu, and slippers. Who was this girl, hid behind her plastic mask I wondered in confused discomfort? She is not one of the regular neighborhood kids. Where did she come from? Why were we taking her to school? Then she spoke and I realized it was Ted.
There sat Ted, costumed as a pretty girl, a very feminine ballerina, sitting as natural as if he were a six year old girl, comfortable it seemed with the whole situation. Pink tighted legs together, hands folded in his lap as daintily as possible amidst the puffy tutu. Had he practiced this? It seemed so natural for him (her?).
Like being struck by lightening it hit me, “That is how I want to be dressed! That is who I want to be – her!”, I distinctly remember my mind screaming.
I can honestly remember having a terrible time at the party because of something didn’t feel right. Something was terribly wrong, but at that moment I couldn’t describe what it was; I just knew it.As time went on I slowly came to understand that my heart wasn’t congruent with my body. I knew who I was, who I wanted to be, but as so many of us do, I conformed to what was expected of me as a male.
Fifty-eight years forward, marriage (broken after 38 yrs primarily because of my dysphoria), children, grandchildren, great grand children – yes normal male life – and I am still conforming.
Repress my disphoria as gallantly as possible for the sake of those I love, yet I can not with integrity deny that at heart I am a woman or at least seriously long to be.
Being a ballerina, a tween, a young women with the promise of marriage and family before me are dreams never to be realized (though I have had them all).
I do however still dream and somehow at this point in my life if I could enjoy the company of cis-women, accepted amongst them as one of them, even at the age of a grandma, I would know then that dreams can come true; especially if I could be a wife, a step-grandma to his grandchildren. Ah then, what would my natural grandchildren have? This is all so complicated and deeply frustrating.
Thank you for listening to my ramble.
- January 4, 2019 at 3:19 pm #31395Jasmine FletcherParticipantFREE
It was before school when I had my first trigger events for crossdressing, but it was starting primary school that really set my brain whirling (age 4 and three quarters). Girls wore different uniform to boys (no stupid tie for a start). Girls were called by their first name, boys by their surname. It was always girls first, boys second. From that it could have just been jealousy that made me want to change to being a girl, but I also preferred to be with the girls at break time. None of that rushing around, kicking footballs, yelling and shooting one another type of play appealed. I preferred the chatting, skipping and making daisy chains.
My childhood fantasy at that time: why couldn’t those aliens kidnap me and turn me into a girl!
- December 15, 2018 at 4:49 am #29129Cloe (CC) WebbManaging AmbassadorMANAGING AMBASSADOR
In a family of 5 kids at the time there was so much going on it was hard to even be myself, much less comprehend what was going on, but I do know at age 9 I did my first public crossdressing in my sisters jeans to school several times. I can’t say for certain I immediately associated it with feeling I was a girl and the shame I had received actually put me into a self repression that lasted until my early 20’s and stunted my exploration to just enjoying underdressing.
- December 8, 2018 at 10:40 pm #28077Xelyn CraftParticipantBRONZE
I was exactly 5 years old when I started to feel…. different. I know exactly when it started and why now that I’m older and can look back. But it wasn’t until I was much older that I realized what it was that was making me feel different. If I’m going to be honest, I never had a sudden realization, it all happened sort of gradually and I’m still learning about it.
- December 3, 2018 at 9:29 pm #27330
- December 3, 2018 at 9:28 pm #27328Killgrather CommanderParticipantFREE
I was older then 13 and a 1/2 months when I realised
- December 3, 2018 at 5:46 am #27195Lana LangParticipantFREE
Raised by a single mom, I was a feminine child and teased as a sissy by some. I kind of thought some were jealous! On starting school my feeling led me to socialize more with girls and do girly things. Play house, with dolls (mostly dress up dolls). Eventually trying on frocks and shoes. Many girls were accepting, some were not! Fortunately I made some girlfriends that accepted and nurtured me as I was, supporting and helping along the way! Girls are wonderful!
- December 1, 2018 at 12:37 pm #26591S’Nia TParticipantFREE
I realized I was trans when I tried on my cousins shirt when I was in 4th grade and I felt so amazing wearing and doing girly things. I was smart enough to realize how much I could get in trouble if I was caught acting femme so I would do it when my mom was at work or asleep. Skip to 5th grade the first time i tried on one of my moms wigs when she left the room then she came back while I had the wig on and that was the first of 2 times I got caught. Sje asked if I wanted to be a girl but I said no out of fear of getting in trouble bc she seemed very mad. I got my phone took for a month after that and I got better at hiding being femme. Skip to 6th grade when I tried on a gown that I found in a drawer in the attic. I would wear that to bed almost t every night and i would wear stockings under my pants around the house. But one night I fell asleep in it and when my mom woke me up in the morning she saw me wearing it. She was so mad and I knew I had to do better at hiding it if I wanted to keep being g femme so I would start to be femme when she was at work only and it worked. I eventually got extreamly good at hiding it from everyone that I wouldn’t get caught being femme until 10th grade. Over the years I started to be a lot more girly and I started to put on lip gloss, heels, bras, and panties when I was in 8th grade. Then I would take my cousins clothes that she woulnt wear anymore and she never noticed that they were missing. I would hide them in different places around the house that no one goes to except me. Skip to 9th grade. I started asking my cousin about her thoughts on trans people. She seemed accepting and I was considering coming out to her but I was way too scared. Skip to 10th grade I was wearing a bra, tank top, and panties when she came home from us school early and she saw me. She thought I was lying to her about me being a girl for a while then she started to accept me and she kept it a secret. She was the only person I could trust to be femme around. Her sisters didnt even know bc they weren’t around em that much and one of them was transphobic. She would let me keep the clothes that she didnt want or couldnt fit and I felt so relieved to finally tell come out to someone. Also in 10th grade I made a instagram account for the real me @queen_snia, there I would text other trans people my age and i followed a lot of trans celebrities and Youtubers like Leverne cox, sonnis, dawn marie, and amiyah scott. I was always jealous that they had big boobs, a feminine face, long hair, and a big butt I always told myself that i will be a beautiful woman like them one day. In 10th grade I tried to pretend I wasnt trans by getting a girlfriend and we dated for 6 months but being with her just made things worse bc I kept getting jealous that she got to be a girl and wear dresses. I eventually broke up with her and I stopped talking to her over time. My dysphonia kept getting worse to the point where I started getting jealous of almost every girl I saw. I eventually told my cousin to call me a girl and pretend it was a mistake when we were around the rest of my family. I also started to take transgender quizzes and I they would always say that I’m a woman. I would also pull my draws up to they looked like panties and that made me feel a little better but it wasnt enough. I was scared to come out to my family bc I didnt want them to disown me if they didnt like me being femme. This is starting to get long so I will make a part 2 soon
- November 25, 2018 at 3:43 pm #25575Ann WilliamsParticipantFREE
I was torn between being terse, being thorough and simply not replying at all. I chose thorough. I apologize for the length.
I’m new here. I learned the truth about myself at the age of 59. Looking back at my life, I can see indications, including the devastation wrought by an unrecognized gender dysphoria; but, at the time, I was clueless.
When I was in college, a fellow student, a cis woman, told me that I was “really in touch with my feminine side.” That comment stayed with me. Over time, I came to recognize that I had a strong feminine side; but, all cis men have a feminine side, and I thought I was simply more in touch with mine.
Sometime around 12-13 years ago,perhaps more, I came to the conclusion that I would have preferred being born female. I knew next to nothing about what it meant to be transgender; I had only stereotypical notions, and they weren’t favorable or complimentary. As a long-time fan of lesbian cinema – the legitimate stuff, not the stuff made for cis men – I had encountered the term “male lesbian”; and after reviewing the characteristics I decided that that came closest to describing me. Of course, there was nothing to be done about my situation; so, I put this information on the back burner and pulled it out from time to time to review it.
One day, about 11 years ago, I was reviewing this matter, and I happened to ask myself, “If I could be a woman, what woman would I want to be?” The answer was there, instantly, with no thought or reflection required; and the thought of being this woman sent me into outer space, where I stayed for about four days. I didn’t know it at the time, but I had just had one heck of an episode of gender euphoria.
I was married at the time, and shared some of this with my wife, who was a cis ally on the board of the local LGBT center. Without mentioning it to me, she shared what I had shared with her with another member, a trans man. She then reported to me that he had suggested I might be transgender. I laughed. “Not me,” I thought. “I’m not one of *those* people.”
Early in 2017, I had been divorced a little over a year. I was in my apartment, scouting around for some new project; and I remembered my “feminine side.” I remembered that psychology teaches that bringing unconscious material into the conscious and integrating it leads to a more balanced, more actualized person; so, I thought, why not?
There are no books for this, at least none I was aware of. I thought it would be a good idea to try to pick up some feminine habits of expression and behavior, albeit only in the privacy of my home, hoping this would encourage my feminine side to express itself. When I painted my nails for the first time, I just knew I was going to look ridiculous; but I was committed to this effort and did it anyway. I was astonished by my own reaction. I loved them. The more I stared at them, drinking them in, the more I wanted to. I would gladly have left them that way until the polish wore off, if not for fear of what my employer would say.
But it was the panties that were the most dramatic tell. I had been spending a good bit of time online by this point, learning a lot and realizing that I might actually be transgender. I was still experimenting when I put on panties for the first time. Twenty-four hours later, every pair of men’s underwear I owned was in the dumpster, covered with used cat litter – and I could not have told you why. It was not the least bit erotic. All I knew was that it had to be done.
I eventually reached the point where I thought there was a good chance I was transgender, and had even begun to hope that I was – because being transgender, for me, meant being a woman, which would be an answer to prayer. I knew how easy it was to convince oneself of something I wanted to believe, so I made an appointment with a gender therapist in order to get an objective opinion. I did a lot of preparation for the initial interview, going over and over what I would say. The morning of the appointment, I was sitting in a parking lot in my car, again rehearsing; and an image just popped into my mind, of myself, walking down the street in a dress. And I knew.
Since that day, there have been many confirmations – so many, in fact, that I long ago stopped trying to remember them all. I have recently become convinced that I must have exhibited signs at a very early age, and that if I could get my mother to do so, she could tell me what those were. But she and I have been estranged for many years. One day, perhaps.
- November 25, 2018 at 2:32 pm #25567CarrieParticipantFREE
I would have to say around 5ish, getting dresses in female costumes at kindergarten that were available with high heel shoes too, during play time, and from time to time the other students would make fun of me but oh well I did it anyway, it wasn’t till I was 19 or 20 then I started “going out” we’re talking 1979 or so, and it was still pretty dangerous back then, but of course I did it only in safe areas of Hollywood an LA, and there we not many resources back then, most was all by word of mouth, if only we had the Internet then with all resources we have now, Oh my thank you for the subject 😊
- November 25, 2018 at 1:28 pm #25555Carla RobertsParticipantFREE
A great struggle for me over the course of my 69 years. When I was very young I would play dress up often with my sister and her friends, and when alone. I had “boy” toys, but most often had play-time with two older girls who lived close, and we played “House” and “Dressup” routinely, until we moved farther away, about the time I was about 7. Living in a different area, I was somewhat discouraged from girl-play, and any time efforts to wear anything feminine would result in my being redirected to something more appropriate, and I soon learned that desire for things feminine needed to be kept in secret. There was a school play in second grade, and both boys and girls were required to wear lipstick and mascara so so our faces would be more visible, apparently. I vividly remember how wonderful I felt, being made up, and with our costumes, I felt like I was one of the girls. My enthusiasm did not go unnoticed, and I was severely shamed and teased, and although I knew what I wanted, I was also clearly aware that no one else approved. After that, all of my desire for dressing up or feminine play was done in secret, but my underlying desire was ultimately revealed, and I was known as a sissy. I, like many others, I’ve learned about, attempted to conform to what I was told to be, while having the fantasies that somehow, I might be able to either turn into a girl, like all my friends were. I even remember once asking a much beloved young teacher if she has always been a girl, and if someone who didn’t want to be a boy, could change into a girl if they wanted to badly enough? She was very sweet and gently thought I was just being silly, and that I would love being a boy growing up, and be able to have a lot more fun than if were a girl, as boys get to do more fun things in life.
She was partially right, as I did “Learn” to enjoy some male activities that were just somethings I had to do, in order to get along in life, but I never lost that fantasy of someday being able to a girl/woman.
- November 25, 2018 at 10:00 am #25524Skyler AnneParticipantFREE
I can’t remember honestly. I don’t have many memories before my grandmas passing in November of 95. I was 5 years old then. I do remember around late 5 or 6 wanting to be Ariel for Halloween. I found my moms old costumes in our attic from when she was a little girl in and fell in love with them. Unfortunately I had to go as a cowboy or something like that…
- November 24, 2018 at 9:31 pm #25463
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