What secret do these women share? (The Mirror)

The Mirror
Tuesday 1st Aug 2000

WHAT SECRET DO THESE WOMEN SHARE?…. THEY USE TO BE MEN

They’re not the same age and they don’t do the same job.  They’re from all walks of life and the four corners of the country.  But they do have something in common.  Turn the page to find out what it is..

Janine, 39, a sound engineer, lives in London.  She had a sex change operation last year

‘When I had my boob job five weeks ago, it completed my physical change.  But it wasn’t the operations that turned me into a woman - I’ve always been a female.

‘At school, I didn’t want to do “boy” things.  I’d buy lollipops that made my lips red.  At 15, I went to the doctor with back problems.  He said, “You have a female body - your bone structure.” I was called a sissy at school, but confused everyone by having girlfriends.

‘I got married at 24 and had two children.  But I wasn’t the man my wife thought I was; I wasn’t even a man.  It was confusing to have testosterone in me.  Men get horny every two minutes.  I’d hate getting an erection, because it reminded me I had a penis.  It was the same when I went to the loo or had a bath.

‘My marriage disintegrated over eight years.  I was dressing as a woman, but kept it secret.  As soon as we separated, Janine, the real me, came out.  I’m lucky, as I’ve always been pretty thin and feminine.  At 5ft 10in, my body is in proportion now.  I’d love to model.  Transsexuals check each other out - the size of our Adam’s apples, feet and hands, which can be a giveaway.  Every transsexual wants to look as feminine as they feel.

‘I’d like a partner but sex is not important to me.  I fancy men, but prefer women’s company.  With men, I back off at the point of sex.  As a female virgin, I get scared.  I know what men are like.  They want to satisfy themselves.

‘I even wish I could get periods.  I do get stomach cramps, and feel miserable and bloated once a month.  It might be the hormones I take or it might be psychological.

‘The only thing that really upsets me is access to my children.  I see them for two hours a fortnight, supervised.  They accept me and call me Janine.  But the courts think I’m a danger to them.  My mum refuses to see me, too.  When I visited my sister a few weeks ago, she hid her face because she couldn’t look at me.

‘At last though, I’m comfortable.  If I think back to my old life, I want to cry.  If I walk past a shop window, I enjoy seeing my reflection because it’s finally me.’

Claire Crandal, 39, is an artist’s agent from Bristol.  She had her operation at the age of 31

‘When I showed a friend some old pictures of me, she said, “You’ve gone from total bloke to total woman.” I don’t consider myself either.  I look like a woman, but I used to be a 1512st soldier.  It annoys me when transsexuals consider themselves 100% women.  They don’t have periods and can’t have children.  How can they be women?

‘People find it amazing I was in the army.  I was a military accountant and trained with the Parachute Regiment when I was 16.  I think I took the army recruitment poster, “We’ll Make a Man of You” too literally.  But I was a loner and it was a way of burying how I really felt by putting on a uniform.  In the army, they break you down and rebuild you.  It didn’t work for me.  I had gay liaisons but they left me cold.  I was also secretly cross-dressing in barracks.

‘I got married after I left the army, to a beautiful girl I met in a bar.  She knew how I felt and said, “What will make you a real man, is a real woman.” We had a son, but it was hard to take on the responsibility when I was confused.  I’d sometimes go out in the car late at night.  My wife thought I was having an affair, but I’d just be sitting there crying.  For two years of the marriage, I was just waiting for my life insurance policies to mature so I could commit suicide and leave them secure.

‘In the end, my wife left and I lost touch with my son, which still hurts.  In 1992 I had my op, which cost £5,200, and I felt reborn.  Suddenly, the world came alive.  At first, you go over the top with clothes and make-up.  As a man, you don’t even know how to rinse your hair properly.  I’m happy with the way I look now - but I still say, tomorrow I’ll be perfect.’

Gina Ravens, 46, a student psychotherapist and part-time teacher, lives in Oxford.  She had her operation four years ago

‘Graham Dennis Day.  I used to have difficulty telling people my male name, as it summoned up the pain of those years.  But now, it no longer seems relevant.

‘I come from a working-class background.  My dad worked for Ford and my mum was a snob.  I never felt I met their expectations.

‘At school, I’d play with the girls but would be dragged away by the teachers.  I never really had a male body.  In my teens, I even started to develop breasts.  My body was as confused as my mind.  A specialist told me I suffered from a rare genetic disorder and I could have surgery to remove the breasts.  I began to think that either I was a woman or I was completely insane.

‘I first learned about transsexuality when I was 13, reading about a court case involving a transsexual.  I found myself identifying with her and, at first, I was horrified and frightened.  A year later, though, I started cross-dressing.  I’d play truant from school and go to London, changing into women’s clothes on the train.

‘I married when I was 26.  My wife didn’t know about how I felt, or the cross-dressing.  We had four children, but I was just trying to play a role.  In 1996, a year after we separated, I came out.

‘I haven’t seen my children for 13 years, although I’m still trying to find them to make contact.  My mum has only accepted my sex change this year and my sister won’t speak to me, on her husband’s instructions.

‘I’ve had relationships with men and women but I feel comfortable as a lesbian transsexual.  I’ve been with Katie, an ex-army sergeant, for two months.  It’s the person inside that matters.’

Rehana, 38, is a dancer and dance teacher who lives in London.  She had her operation at the age of 21

‘I’ve avoided much of the taunting that transsexuals can face.  I’ve been lucky because most people don’t suspect anything.  My statistics are 38C- 27-36 - the same as Cindy Crawford’s.  It’s all natural and, at 5ft 9in, I have a body that most women would be happy with.  Rehana is Arabic for “heaven’s gate”.

‘Growing up in Northumbria, I always looked feminine.  I remember some boys mistaking me for a girl and shouting, “You dirty dyke.  Put a dress on.” I shouted back, “I wish I could - but I’m a boy.”

‘My voice wasn’t deep and I’d no muscle definition.  I’m naturally a Nordic blonde and by 11, I’d grown my hair long and plucked my eyebrows.  At 15, I started developing breast tissue because of a hormone imbalance.

‘By 21, I was living as a female and had a boyfriend.  By the time I confided in him, he was in love with me.  We did everything, apart from have full sex.  It was difficult.  I’d go to bed in jeans, trying to save his feelings.

‘It was for both our sakes that I had the operation.  Afterwards, it seemed perfect.  I burned everything to do with my old life.  We only split up because I decided I wanted to travel.  He’s still a friend.

‘When I was 23 I married an American marine.  In the States, you can get married after gender reassignment, unlike in Britain.

‘When I told him I was transsexual - before we’d slept together - he cried.  “I’m crying because of what you must have been through,” he said.  The marriage eventually ended, but it had nothing to do with the transgender issue.

‘I don’t admit to men I’m involved with that I’m transsexual unless it gets serious.  I find that if I don’t say anything I’m treated better.  If people know, they treat me like a second-class woman.  I would like children one day, but obviously it’s impossible.

‘The only prejudice I face now is from some lesbians and gays.  Lesbians hate me because they want a penis and I chose to have mine removed.  Gay men are jealous of the attention I get from heterosexual men.

‘I’m a professional dancer now.  I trained in Middle Eastern dance and perform all over the world.  It is a tribute to the sensuality of a woman’s body.’

Stephenie Robinson, 46, is a sales and marketing executive from London.  She had her operation 16 years ago

‘I was diagnosed as a classic transsexual, a medically recognised condition, at the age of 26.  I was offered aversion therapy - where you take something to make you vomit while looking at pictures of yourself dressed as a woman - electroshock therapy, having part of my brain removed, or a sex change operation.

‘I felt I had no choice.  I had to have the operation.  I’d never felt at home in the world - I was introverted, had trouble mixing with other people, and had violent outbursts.

‘Before I was allowed to have the surgery, I had to live as a woman for four years.  I’d only just started a new job at the time.  Most of the men thought I was gay or attention seeking.  Some of them just laughed.

‘I’d been married for five years, but we’d split up.  I told my ex, my mum and brother, all together, about my decision to have the operation.  I was greeted with silence.

‘As soon as I started the initial hormone treatment, I immediately felt more content.  My surgery was in 1985 and my penis was inverted in a four- hour operation.  The hormone tablets give you breasts, softer skin and slow down the growth of facial hair.  I felt reborn.

‘I wanted to get my look right and I had cosmetic surgery to my chin, nose and forehead.  It cost me £35,000, but it was worth it.  I even did some glamour modelling.

‘I’ve set up my own website to help other transsexuals.  It’s not easy.  You’ve not only got to learn what to wear, but also make-up, hair, how to walk, even voice control.  It doesn’t always come naturally.’

**** *******, 46, is a charity worker from Aberdeen.  She had her operation at the age of 45

‘I was prepared to lose everything to become ****.  It was two years after my marriage had broken up and I’d been **** for a year in secret.  I felt it was time to be honest.

‘At school I got asked if I was a gay boy, but I ignored it.  During the 1970s, when glam rock was really popular, it was easier to get away with big hair and frilly blouses.  I’d always felt attracted to men, but not in a homosexual way.

‘I married when I was 30 and we had three daughters, but the marriage broke down.  I was devastated.  My wife didn’t know how I felt but it was her decision to leave me.  A year later, I felt I had to live as **** full time.  My surname, Strange, is the name I was born with.

‘I broke the news to my family as gently as I could.  Some took it better than others, but they were all supportive.  My ex-wife was shocked but accepting.  Then I told the children.  I said, “Dad has a problem and has been seeing a doctor.  I’m going to become ****.” They were nine, 11, and 12.  They asked what they would call me and what I’d wear.  However, my ex and I disagreed over access, and, after two court cases, I was stopped from seeing them altogether.

‘I was worried my new identity would also affect my business as a bookkeeper.  I started to answer the phone as ****.  If clients asked for me by my old name, which I never mention now, I’d reply, “No, this is Miss **** *******.” My operation has brought my body in line with my mind and has allowed me to have proper relationships.

‘I’ve met somebody and he’s OK about my past.  I risked losing my family and business to live as **** but I have gained friends, a lover and most importantly, self-esteem.’

Chris Morris