Submitted by Naomi (6/6/2004)

I suppose i'll start at the beginning...

''' Childhood:''' At about 3 years old I remember telling my mom that I wanted to be a girl. She said that this was normal, and that when she was little she'd wanted to be a boy for awhile. She assured me that it would pass. For years I assumed that this was true, and that soon it would all pass, and used that rationale to deny who I was, though I always knew in my heart. I was always quite in tune with the world, I think, and knew from a very early age that my feelings were not ok, and were something to hide. That's why I never crossdressed, except once at the encouragement of a neighbor (at age 6 or so). I remember wanting my mother to not see it, and when she did I felt so ashamed... My mother recalls an incident that I do not: we were driving in the car when I was 5 or so, and I asked, quietly "What would happen if I asked for pink shoes?" This was my feeble attempt to inquire about the worlds opinions on my gender issues without giving myself away. My mother chalked it up to oddness and told me that it wouldn't be accepted. She wasn't saying it was wrong... she was never like that, but she told me the truth. It was not socially acceptable, and I knew it, from then on.

I'd say it was at about 7 that I met Wilson. At this point I was living in Albany, California (right by Berkeley, which is right by San Francisco). Wilson's biological father was then at the beginning of her transition. She was lesbian and living with her partner, raising Wilson. Her name was Susan. I didn't know it at the time, but this is what allowed me to realize who I was early on. I honestly don't remember if she passed or not... she was of course female to me. I have a memory from age 15, LONG after, of my father joking about her with friends: "...and not only was she transsexual...she was a LESBIAN!" At least he said 'she', right? Wilson and I were friends for a few years... the kid was a prodigy, while I struggled to do my homework in time. I said goodbye to all those friends when, at age 10, our family moved to Jerusalem, Israel.

Moving: So, in 1993, we moved to Israel. I said goodbye to my friends (not many people) and we got on the plane. Israel was tough. I didn't know the language and didn't want to learn. I hated life and everything about it, and became a bit of a recluse. I watched TV as much as possible, watching mostly American sitcoms (very popular here, as Israeli actors SUCK!). I went to school, and sat around daydreaming. I remember telling my teacher once that I had to leave the class. "Why?" she asked... because I was "sad". She let me leave, and I sat outside and cried for a bit, I think (the memory is hazy). I had many times like that, from age 10-12. Those years were hell. I had a violent stage (I didn't know what people were saying because of the language barrier) where I attacked other children. That ended when my parents found out. I started talking about suicide at age 11, and threatened it several times. I remember sitting on the window sill of our 4th story apartment, saying i'd jump. Around this time I was diagnosed with ADHD (my parents, a behaviorist and a psychologist, had known I'd had it since I was an infant, but had held off diagnosing till early early puberty) and was given ritalin, which helped my concentration immensely. At around 13-14, I swallowed all my depression and became a very sad, problematic child. Then came puberty.

Author's note: I have decided, at least for now, not to continue the story. The first part was very hard to write... old memories surfaced. Eventually, I'm sure that inspiration will strike again. In the meantime, ta ta! (Added 6/20/2004)

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