Snuggling up on our bed, I held back tears of joy. After years of trying, I finally had my happy little family. My wife, Sandi, and I had spent the day playing with our newborn daughter and my heart had melted with every single giggle and gurgle.
Our dog had been beside herself, excitedly wagging her tail as she sniffed our newest arrival. This moment in bed, with my wife at my side and my daughter in my arms, was one I never thought would come true. I’d first attempted to come out as trans 18 years previously.
I followed all the legitimate paths – I engaged with the NHS and was referred to a psychologist who had to to agree I was trans before referring me to a gender identity clinic (GIC). After eight sessions, it became clear that this psychologist had absolutely no intention of referring me. I’ll never forget what they said at our last session: ‘If you choose to go down this route you’ll neither be male nor female.
You’ll lose your friends, family, jobs and no one will ever love you. What sort of person would love you? ’ For years afterwards, I tried desperately to get on with my life, to be someone I was not. I tried to ‘man up’ and got into motorsports and going to the gym.
I didn’t date – I didn’t see the point if ‘no one would ever love me’. The psychologist’s words haunted me. I was desperately unhappy.
It’s hard to describe how empty life feels when you can’t be your authentic self. But in 2013, I started to see others like me in the.
