Me Sista, My Story

(Evelyn's Story)

Here I am finally writing down my tragic history. I am actually still in a state of depression. What I write may not be expressed clearly, perhaps too emotional but certainly factual and right from the bottom of my heart.

Why am I depressed? Well, I am a Sista, in other words a male-to-female transsexual, still struggling through surgeries, hormonal treatment, job hunting, financial difficulty, social adaptation, family adjustment and other aspects of transitioning. The most hurting struggle of all is coping with social mockery. That really broke me eventually and here I am writing so that hopefully you can understand me as what I really am and not based on what you thought.

My Female Gender
I discovered I was behaving a little different from other boys and similar to girls as early as in kindergarden. I disliked aggression and enjoyed activities such as cooking, pretending to be part of a family, dressing up the doll and doll house. But when I was in Primary school, I had my first taste of being mocked as an ah-kua especially since I cry easily. The hurt wasso deep for not being accepted when I did nothing wrong but right to the classmates who said those harsh words.

When I discussed with my relatives naively that I am a girl not a boy, my relatives told me, "Nonsense! You are just a gentle boy so you should learn to be more like one. Don't you ever sin and shame your family!" These relatives just did not believe such thing as a female gender inside a body of male sex and thought transsexuals are confused or perverted people (therefore they never told me such people exist). They thought I was not properly brought up as a boy because my father was seldom at home. I was born in a Catholic family, or rather, within a group of related Catholic families. Strong religious beliefs contributed to such conclusions from my relatives.

Because I do not want to disappoint my parents as well as God and, after all, adults should know better, I tried hard to pick up the traits of a boy so that I would not get mocked, well, at least not as much again. I was moreover convinced since I was indeed no longer as close to my father as I used to be since the incident when I was only 4 or 5 years old and he caned me till I bled for being "naughty" (you can guess why I put this within quotation marks). He thought by teaching me a "good lesson", I would correct my behaviour but actually the "lesson" was so traumatic that it drove me to forever fear being coached by him to be a guy and to avoid confiding in him.

The male conditioning did work to some extent and, over time, I was behaving like a mix of the two sexes. I acted more cool and tough when in reality I knew I could still burst into tears easily either for joy or sadness. Looking at my school report book, often there were still comments that I was "quiet", "polite" or "gentle". I played male hobbies, such as building modelling kits (Tamiya, Airfix, etc). I did not mind these but others I actually hated, especially soccer (that was why I never watched the recent World Cup). But I still enjoyed chatting, singing and dancing with the girls. I still secretly fantasised about being the queen ant or termite building a happy family when I studied Science. I still wished I received the love and attention that the famous actress Lin Chin Hsia received on television from her screen lover. I even dreamed of giving birth to my own children to make my imaginary family complete.

My Desperate Need for Companionship
As time passed, up to my teenage years, I built friendships with many girls but few guys. I seem to have gained the same interests during that growing up stage with girls rather than with guys. I remember I also had huge piles of Go and Her World magazines (not Playboy or Penthouse which were for a different mindset of being sexually attracted to women), which I bought and enjoyed reading. I felt jealous when I saw girls growing up to become women but I accepted my fate that I was a boy becoming a man instead.

I never liked the masculine changes to my body, especially my Adam's Apple (trachea shave was the very first surgery I had during transitioning and I actually felt joy rather than regret after having it removed). I felt very hurt when I asked my father for treatment for my severe acne and he did not take that seriously, saying, "You are a guy!", and that my skin would be alright when the acne subsided after puberty (but it actually led to scars instead).

Having no siblings for companionship (my sister was then only a few years old) and neglected by my parents who were busy working, I was really lonely. Since having a boyfriend was not proper for a male especially since my family and I were Catholics, I chose to forcefully ignore guys and date girls and even had sex with my first steady to gain intimacy to fill the emptiness in my heart. The odd thing was I only got sexually aroused when she showered me with intimacy (and by thoughts of that) and not by seeing her naked. Up till now, I still wonder if I am completely wired with sexuality like a straight male.

Just like many teenage couples, I had quarrels with my steady for not being mature. When she finally initiated a breakup, I was so upset being lonely again and already felt the sadness of not growing up like the girls, I got tired of living and attempted suicide by swallowing more than 30 tablets of Panadol together. My mother discovered me vomiting and managed to get me treated at the hospital in time before my liver started to fail. I told her I was not happy with life. The amazing thing is my parents never sent me to see a psychiatrist for such a serious incident of suicide and for such problems. They told me I did not try hard enough to cope with life. Not wanting to disappoint my parents and God, I tried to live as a guy again. I had also not forgotten the fact that, in the context of tradition, being the only son and only grandson meant a lot to my family and grandparents.

Transitioning vs Survival of my Family
I first learnt about transsexuals when I saw the gorgeous transgendered showgirls of Tiffany cabaret at Pattaya during a holiday with my family in Thailand. By then, I was already in my late teens and I was really so sad that I did not come across hormones until nearly past puberty. I did not even know before that incident there was such a thing as a sex change. By then, I had grown to become more able to rationalise what was best for me and I wanted to discuss transitioning with my family

Then my father died in a car accident. My mother was in state of denial yet had to force herself to continue caring for my little sister. She broke down and was admitted into a mental ward several times since then. For me, I did not feel sad because I had been bearing a grudge against my father all along. But I did not want to disappoint or burden my mother any further so I chose to zip my mouth instead.

I went on serving my National Service which I really struggled with. Coping with Basic Military Training was so difficult that I thought of suicide again. I never forget the incident when I burst into tears in front of the entire platoon upon being bullied by the Corporal instructor, and my Platoon Commander officer had to be called in. However, with perserverence (again not wanting to disgrace my family), I managed to live on serving a combat role in an infantry regiment commanding a handful of junior ranks. Even I had difficulties being accepted by my supervisor, who was a former commando, who could not understand why I would bother to wash my face and brush my teeth so diligently in the jungle.

I had my second steady girlfriend during this period because I still needed emotional support but I left her when she turned to unreasonable behaviour because of her excessive insecurity. I then grew a liking for a really pleasant girl whom I had known since my teens. She not only became my last steady girlfriend but also eventually became the best person to ever come into my life.

Me a Guy?
After a long wait, I went on studying in university abroad under scholarship. Looking back at my past for being able to live as a guy and cope with National Service, I thought maybe the words of my relatives (that I was just a gentle guy and not a girl) were really true and I did not need a sex change to survive. Moreover, I felt so happy being in love with my last girlfriend that I no longer desired to be a woman but be her man. I would work part-time jobs during my little free time from heavy school work to be able to pay for the long-distance international telephone calls I made to her. Notice that our relationship was entirely based on companionship and never sex.

Upon graduation and having just entered the working world, we had little savings. She asked me for marriage when suddenly HDB changed the rule that in order to secure our application for new HDB flat in the waiting list, couples had to produce to HDB a marriage certificate or pay a deposit WITHIN 2 WEEKS. I did not have much time to think about marriage and, out of impulse, I said yes. We registered our marriage a few days after that. We thought, after all, we had been together happily for four years and even many more years before as normal friends. I never knew that, in years to come, I would discover I was wrong to think I could live on as a male.

Years passed, we saved up and finally had our wedding followed by building our new home. By then, my wife being the same age as me, was nearing 30 years of age and started to worry about not having children in time. As the saying goes, "Parents first pester about marriage. After that they pester about grandchildren."

I had resumed a lifestyle of time for work and time for myself unlike the lifestyle during National Service and studying abroad during which I had to work until I hardly time for anything else. I resumed the interests I had and, having worked in the same company for years, eventually my colleagues knew me well to realise I was feminine inside despite putting on a cool and tough act. I faced gossips, being looked down on and even being unfairly treated in appraisals (some years later). I started overeating to console my troubled thoughts over the treatment I continued to receive but could not accept and the work stress. I felt unable to cope as well as before. Very quickly I became fat. I felt so hurt because I had treated these people well and I had performed my work well, actually even to the extent of working a lot of overtime and weekends for the success of the projects. I confided my problems with my wife but she was already too troubled and focused on the regular quarrels either started by her hot-tempered father if not her difficult elder sister.

My wife never suspected I was a girl inside but thought I was just a gentle guy. After all, I had been conditioned as a male to some extent. I recalled the problems I had in my past and wanted to start researching about transsexuality and find a psychiatrist who was an expert in that field. I no longer trusted advice from laymen and not even any other psychiatrists. I told my wife I was not ready to have children and needed time. I could not tell her my gender problem because I did not want to alarm her unnecessarily until I could confirm the problem existed.

We quarrelled for months over this issue until she got fed up and initiated sex with me without contraceptive without me knowing. That night, I was already too mentally exhausted from work, ensuring correct renovation of our home (contractors could really drive you crazy) and little sleep. Two months later, she called me at my office over the telephone that she was pregnant. I was too shocked and upset that such a thing could happen that my wife was furious why I could not say anything nice about being a father.

Me a Father Forever
I could have asked for her to go for an abortion like some teenage boys do but that was against my principle. Out of love as a parent (to my child) and as a husband (to my wife), I chose not to blame, shelved my gender issue aside, ignored the hurtful remarks I got from others and focused on supporting my wife throughout her pregnancy. I really felt the joy to be the first person my daughter saw and smiled at. I went on grooming my daughter as best as I could be and my daughter grew up to really love me. Whenever my wife disciplines her, which my wife and I agreed that arrangement was best, she would confide inme for comfort (of course I explained to her rather than contradict my wife). She would wait for me to read her bedtime stories. Meanwhile, I never failed to support my wife financially when she quit her job to care for our daughter and regularly brought my family for outings, tours, dining at restaurants, attending church, playing games or watching television at home. We were more or less one happy family despite the fact that my wife and I had quarrels over our shortcomings such as being neat or punctual!

OMG! Me really a Sista!
When my life finally settled down (my renovation loan paid, my daughter got used to schooling in childcare and my wife went back to work), I thought the time had come for me to address the lifelong issue that I had endured. I finally found a good psychiatrist and also approached my church's family counsellors at the same time. In addition I did a lot of research on transgenderism on the Internet.

I did not tell my church counsellors about me desiring the female role or lifestyle because I did not know how they would react to such a taboo. I just told them about my difficulties being accepted by society. However, after several months of discussions, they unexpectedly asked me if I was hiding gender problems. They said they had ever come across a transsexual with a similar background. My heart half sank and half rose upon hearing that suspicion. So I may have a gender problem but what would happen to my family?

A few weeks later, after evaluating the discussions and psychological tests I took, my psychiatrist confirmed that I have a feminine personality, I have been suffering from gender mismatch and I have therefore been a transsexual all my life. I really felt so upset and cheated: Why had I been misled by the "advice" from my relatives at the expense of what could have been a suitable girl life for me? I could even be like some of my female schoolmates who eventually became actresses and whose success I was so jealous of.

I finally told my wife about the diagnosis. She was shocked into disbelief because she knew me for years in male roles as a boyfriend, a husband and a father. She was very hurt and angry with me for not discovering my problem earlier, but she understood it was not intentional. I myself was at a loss as to the kind of future lifestyle that would be the best for me and my family. I started discussing the feasibility of different future paths (not many choices actually) with my psychiatrist and asked about the morality of transitioning with my church counsellors. In addition, I started seeing a child psychiatrist about the impact of transitioning on my child. Two things I was clear about: (1) I did not wish to continue being treated badly nor in the way I was not meant to be treated; (2) My wife and my daughter were wonderful people in my life, therefore, I did not wish to forsake them.

When the church counsellors could not convince me not to take transitioning as an option (they said transitioning is a sin), they referred me to Choices, a church ministry for leading homosexuals and the transgendered to God's ways. I went to Choices for several months but again I was not convinced even though I found some of the teachings there rather impressive. My wife begged me not to transition; she did not want to lose her beautiful family life, her husband and the father of her child. I was really in tears so, out of love for my family, I chose to continue trying to live as a guy.

Soon after, I found myself uncontrollably and increasingly hating being treated as a man and wanting to live like a woman. Had I endured till I could endure no longer? Or was it because I just wanted to be my real self? Or because I was too depressed over the discovery that should have been made long ago? I started changing my appearance which gave me some relief. I started having my eyebrows trimmed into arches, manicures and pedicures. I had treatments for my acne scars and facial hair removal. I even started wearing light makeup. I started a very strict diet and exericise regimen to lose weight. I started leaving my hair long. However, due to religious and moral obligations, I did not cross-dress. Moreover, I did not see the point of cross-dressing when I did not look passable; I would look like and be treated as a freak rather than a girl. Despite all these little reliefs, my mind continued to deteriorate until I did not realise I had crossed my threshold of tolerance.

One day I went so hysterical that I climbed the corridor ledge at the highest floor of my HDB block seeing suicide as the way to relieve the agony. But the loving thoughts of my wife and daughter weakened my resolve and the only other way out I could think of was to admit myself into the mental ward of the hospital where my psychiatrist practised.

Transitioning to Live for the Family
Another psychiatrist counselled me as my psychiatrist was on compassionate leave. He also concluded the diagnosis of me having gender mismatch and transsexuality. He managed to get me back to my senses but told my wife to consider letting me go and transition because I may break down worse than this occasion in the future. This occasion also made clear to me that I had to transition to survive so that I could still give the love and care both my wife and daughter needed.

This time I planned and started my transitioning despite my wife begging again. She could not accept her new uncertain future and the loss of her beautiful family life. Yes, I did feel sadness and guilt for her but I had to transition if I really do care for the family. I should no longer be manipulated by people into doing the ideal but not practical. In terms of morality, I told myself I transitioned not for desire for femininity but for being what I already was and had to be. I never doubted God for my tragedy; I believed He had reason for how my life turned out. I prayed God would show compassion and grace for my weakness and sinning. I prayed for His help as I was worried about the success of this plan; the stakes of such risk were really heavy.

I told my mother and sister about my transitioning plan. As I had never mentioned to them such a thing for so long, the news was too unexpected for them. My mother was worried if I had the wrong diagnosis and not thought carefully about my decision. I explained my stance over the next few months, then I eventually toldmy mother, "Ma, I have done my best to be a guy all my life and not let you down; Please let me go now." My mother was in tears and said, "I now understand you have to be a girl."
Likewise, I had little objection from my relatives. They all finally realised their advice did not produce happiness but rather disasters. Many told me to proceed and wished me happiness.

With frustrating voice training, painful surgeries and hormonal treatment, I gradually looked and sounded passable as a female. When I started living full-time as a woman later (required before approval for sexual reassignment surgery), I had to switch to a lower paying job. Having to cough out more than $1000 a month to continue supporting my daughter for living expenses, childcare and various courses (swimming, speech and drama, art class and music), I had hardly any money left for myself. I shifted out of my beautiful and comfortable home, leaving my wife and daughter to live in it, so as to live with my mother and sister. I ended up with only a bed and no proper cupboard to keep my stuff. The reason for shifting out was to prevent my neighbours from discovering I had changed and also so that my daughter would not discover that I was living as a female.

I would visit my family as often I could but I dressed and assumed the roles of a husband and father. Sure I no longer can pass as a guy and look more like a butch rather. I could not even go to the Gents washroom without stares despite wearing male attire (do get stares going to Ladies washroom but much less). Nevertheless, my daughter, being very young, still saw me as a father though feminine. To her, her family is still intact though she longs for a younger brother; my daughter still draws pictures of a male father, a mother, herself and a little boy. I would still love and teach her in the same manner as I have always done. When she becomes mature enough, we would tell her the truth rather than risk her discovering it with a shock. We hope she could take the news positively and learn to cope with it.

Sadly, I could not grant her wish for a brother; I could not bring trouble to another soul (my wife also felt very sorry for my daughter). As for my wife, of course she knew I am different physically now but my heart had never changed. We could not have sex again (my wife is not bi-sexual neither would she be a lesbian) but remember we started our relationship for years without that too. We would still confide, console, guide, encourage and help each other, provide companionship in other words, as we have always done. I would still behave as a guy (except that I could not be as strong as before) and treat her as my wife. I really appreciate her making do with the situation, continuing letting my daughter see me and continuing loving me. But I still feel sad there are things I could no longer do such as accompany her to see her friends or visit my daughter's school otherwise they would question my physical changes. When people ask her about my absence, I know how hurt she feels saying we have separated.

It is only a matter of time before my wife makes new friends and my daughter goes to a new school, then the situation would improve because I could be introduced as either a feminine husband/father otherwise as a female relative/friend. When I learnt about the stereotype that most people have of transsexuals who were married and had children, I feel very hurt. These people thought that such transsexuals were irresponsible to marry, have children and then transition. I would not deny such people do exist, but such stereotypes do not apply to all, especially me. After all the unfortunate circumstances that led me to marriage and having my daughter, and me choosing to be with them despite transitioning, the last thing I would want to receive are the wrong accusations from the public even to the extent of receiving vulgarity.

I was so bitter that I thought of stopping transitioning. I confided in my wife who, to my surprise, reassured me and told me to proceed with my plan. She said she finally understood my plan was indeed the best for the family, and had accepted her fate and trusted God would not neglect her and her daughter to suffer in the future. She even asked me if I wanted to go shopping for ladies shoes with her! I was so touched and was glad she had come into my life because I had found someone who loved me unconditionally as I would her.

So did I know I had gender mismatch when I got into the marriage? Did I want a child in first place? Was I not transitioning out of necessity rather than choice? Have I not loved and never abandoned my family as best as I could? I know some straight men who have divorced their wives and never seen their family since. AmI any worse than these men? Has the public any right to interfere in the arrangement between me and my wife which we mutually agreed on?

So here I am writing my life story to tell the public about what really happened and I am not what they thought I was.

- Ends -

Editor's note: I first correponded with Evelyn three years ago when she was transitioning and going through a bad patch. She was one of the few transsexuals I truly wanted to help because of her sincerity (believe me, I have received many nonsense emails over the years). We lost contact after I shut down my website. Then I met her for the first time at my Glad to be me talk in April 2007, and she informed me that she had met a nice guy and had scheduled her sex change operation for a month's time. When I emailed her for her story, she informed me that the operation was successful and she's looking forward to a wonderful life ahead. I wish Evelyn happiness and great success - she is indeed a wonderful parent, and will continue to be a wonderful parent. More so than many "non-transsexual" parents, if I may add.