The one thing I worry about throughout this is the notion that those I care most about might think I lied to them or misled them about who I was. All I can offer is that at the time, I didn’t. I’d yet to decide definitively before I reached my late 30’s. But I knew that some of my thoughts were way off from male thoughts as far back as single digit birthdays. I also knew, instinctively, that it would not be wise to broadcast this. At all. I also felt the pressure to have the kind of life that fell within “normal” expectations but that’s not a complaint. Some of the most important relationships in my life were born during this period. And I regret nothing about it. The only concern I have, with hindsight, is that people might think I hid something from them or was less than honest. Or that the thought might cause them pain and confusion. I couldn’t tell people about something I had never decided on up until then. And unlike Hollywood or televisual transsexuals, I didn’t know aged 3. The best way I can describe it is as a creeping realisation. Slowly but relentlessly it inched forwards. From initial forays into costumed clubbing, to parties as a girl now and then, to wondering if I was really prepared to do this. Clearly I was. But it’s not lost on me that the trauma of all of it was not solely mine. If anyone felt hurt along the way, they were not just collateral damage to me. I simply didn’t know what I was doing. And I wish I’d done things different. Good thing that I had the friends I had. I am a lucky bitch. On a lighter note, even if you normally don’t, please give today’s YouTube link a click. A thing of epic beauty.