I'm sitting here mid memory, wondering what in my mind clicked to female at such a young age. Could it have been something in my early past or possibly a parental problem? Hmmm... Dad was such a stoic person in my eyes. A person that I really did want to be like. He was strong, yet fairly soft in voice, though there was a point like anyone where he couldn't take things in such a soft breath. He was a man of the greatest of pride in his children, and to the very core of his character loved my mom till the day he passed. When I was five, my dad developed Hodgkin's Lymphoma, a cancer of the lymph nodes. He fought four very hard battles with cancer sending the cancer into remission 3 separate times. Each time he would come back and show everyone around him just how strong of a person he was. Though in the end he did succumb to the disease, he left behind a legacy that will never be forgotten. This was a man who struggled with showing deep emotion in certain ways. I can say that I can only recall my dad crying three times in front of me and I can only recall him saying "I love you" twice. He wanted so much for his children that when he first seen me come home from the hospital with a cast around my leg.. He cried. On the day he picked me up from school to drive to Sudbury for an appointment because of his cancer coming back, we exited the van and I had to catch my dad mid step due to the cancer sapping the strength from him.. He cried. The night he passed was an enchanting night to say the least. The snowflakes fell from the night sky that night like stars floating down from the heavens. I remember them landing on my moms jacket, sitting on the fur that lined her hood like small birds in a tree. That night I said my last goodbye to my dad. I was able to hear the words "I love you", I was able to see his last tear fall and to finally see his pain end. When I think of him now, there are certain pictures that instantly pop into my head from my past. Such as the one where we're proudly displaying our catch of fish from our day out ice fishing. Or the one where he's holding me up in the pool, no more than a year old.. Witnessing my dad pass at the age of fifteen was very difficult to say the least. In ways it was a passing of the torch so to speak. His life, battles, struggles, pride and happiness through the days built a foundation of strength in his kids I believe. As a male roll model, one could have no better....
At the age of three, I had my first encounter with the differences in my gender. Sharing a room with my brother, it was very difficult to experience what was calling me. I felt like it had to be hidden, kept away for fear of what would happen if mom or dad would see me. At the age of three you don't know who you are as a person. How can you really when life has taken a hold of you for so little time. What I did know at that time though, was that I wanted to wear certain things that my mom would wear. It began by sneaking articles of clothing to bed before it was time and playing the waiting game till it was time to go to sleep. The joy and fulfillment I can recall having is very hard to put into words. It was like when I was wearing these clothes, that I was removing a mask that I felt I had to wear. That feeling of comfort when crawling into bed and pulling the sheets over yourself, that's the sense of calm that came over me. Also, a sense of delight, blissful like that slow bite you take from a moist piece of chocolate cake. I did this all throughout my childhood, the same routine of sneaking clothes into bed hoping that no one would find out, and every time it brought these feelings, every time! The nights where I was unable to experience that feeling for whatever reason, brought strong frustration usually followed by a punch to the mattress. Living life as a boy at that age for me had to be done. Those were the times, that was the card I was handed. Scared of what would happen if I were to speak my mind and share these "unusual" thoughts of who I was. Perhaps it was the pressure of wanting to please my parents, not wanting to let them down in any way. In a way, sacrificing who I was just to help maintain a sense of ease and not wanting to create chaos. Did I wish I could be like the girls in my class at school? Every. Single. Day...
More to come....
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