Transgender: Female to Male

I have always known I was a boy. That may seem a strange declaration to most of the people reading this article. Isn't it always obvious what one's gender is at birth? In my case, it was not. I was born in the wrong body. My female anatomy said I was a girl but my brain did not agree with that assessment.

I'm a Boy!

" I'm a boy."

" You're a girl!"

My grand-aunt was at her wits end. She adopted me from birth. She couldn't understand why I believed I was a boy. As a small child, I was telling people I felt like a boy. She threatened to send me back to my birth mother.

My grand-aunt adopted me. She was a middle-aged black Baptist. She could not conceive children. When my mother became pregnant at the age of 18, she decided to let my grand-aunt raise me. My birth mother was a pregnant teenager. She didn't marry my father out of love. She only married to get away from the abuse that was happening in the home.

The man she was running from was my adopted mother's husband. She and my uncle's mother died leaving their trucker father to care for two children. It was a burden he couldn't or wouldn't bear. He gave them to his step-sister the woman who would eventually raise me.

My grand aunt's husband was a pedophile. His actions altered the course of my life. As I grew into adulthood, my rage grew into an all-consuming fire. Why didn't neither of my mothers protect me?! Their response: What he did to you was not our fault. Get over it. Of course, he molested my birth mother. Her narcissism would not allow her to have any compassion or sympathy for me.

The Black Sheep

My adopted mother's death left me with an empty space in my heart. My emotional anchor was gone. I tried to build a mother-daughter relationship with my birth mother. That was a disaster that left me riddled with pain and self-doubt. At the time, I didn't know she was a narcissist using me to get her supply. I just knew I wanted my mother's love. I got nothing but emotional abuse. I spent years battling undiagnosed mental illness and homelessness.

I finally got the courage to cut ties with my abusive family in 2012. I was alone in the world. That small voice that was nudging me to transition had now become a crescendo. I no longer had a family to judge me. In 2013, I decided to honor the little boy inside me and live my truth. The feeling of terror-filled me as I began to question my decision to transition.

The first thing I did was shave my head. "What will your neighbor's think?" I don't care. I bought men's clothing. "People will laugh at you." Let them laugh at me. I don't care. I was 42 years old. I couldn't look in the mirror without feeling disgusted. This body doesn't belong to me. For the first time in 42, I finally felt free.

Does God Still Love Me?

I didn't magically become immune to the cruel things people would say to me after I transitioned. I heard people whisper under their breath I was ugly. Cisgender men would hit me hoping I would fight back. I knew how dangerous it would have been for me to defend myself. So, I would pretend the assault never happened and walk away. I remember the puzzled look on one attacker's face as I ignored him.

As a Christian, I questioned GOD's love for me. "Am I condemning my soul to hell?" HE has answered my questions assuring me my salvation is intact transitioning has not endangered my eternal destiny. Google became my friend as I researched ways to transition medically. I am now in the process of taking hormones. Watching my body change has amazed me. The joy I feel is indescribable. I am finally in the right body.