Well, now that M.A.i.D. is off the table until 2027 I’m going to pick up on an issue that I wanted to deal with prior to 2011 when I sent my email to the Edmonton Police Service.
I don’t really think my complaint with the BC Human Rights Tribunal will have much effect on the government, at least not in the short term.
And I don’t expect to hear anything from the DND and the DOJ until at least 2030. They’re gonna want to ride this matter out for as long as possible.
In 2008 I legally changed my name.
This was done for two reasons.
The first was that I had decided that if Richard wanted nothing to do with me, then I wanted nothing to do with him.
The second was that at the time I was considering undergoing gender reassignment.
For all of my life, up to that point, I had never felt like I was a male.
I never connected with “male” things.
I loved dresses as a kid and feminine things. Once I got my first apartment in New Westminster around 1994 I started buying dresses on the sly and wearing them in my apartment.
As a kid I used to get the shit beat out of me on CFB Downsview ’cause I acted like a girl or walked like a girl or cried like a girl, etc.
The teachings of Captain Totzke were still fresh in my head that I had been sexually abused by the babysitter because I enjoyed having sex with boys.
But then in 2011 I had to go and try to get justice for what the babysitter had done, so that derailed my plans.
And maybe that was a good thing in a way.
See, I had fallen into the same trap that most of society has fallen into and that is there were only two genders. If you’re not a male, then you have to be a female, and vice-verse.
As a kid I had always wanted breasts. I was so certain that I was going to develop like the other girls, but that never happened.
I was around 12 when I realized that I wasn’t going to develop breasts. And I was fucking devastated.
I had always felt that my hips should have been larger, but they never grew out.
And on top of that I had Captain Totzke drilling into my head that I was a “homosexual”. Which wasn’t clearly explained to me what that entailed, but it was bad apparently.
So, I never really knew what I was.
Didn’t enjoy relationships with women, but I didn’t enjoy relationships with men either.
So………….
After having been kicked and beat by the Canadian Forces since 2011, I’ve had a lot of time to reflect.
And reflect I have.
I don’t identify as anything.
I’m not male.
I’m not female.
Not gay.
Not straight.
I’m nothing.
And I’m cool with that.
So, I’m going for an appointment with my physician in April.
Even though I don’t identify as a woman, doesn’t mean that I can’t have breasts.
Breasts will work nicely with my wardrobe.
And as I’ve said, I’ve always felt like I should have had breasts.
I’m pretty sure that I will enjoy having breasts.
Hips?
Nope, not at this stage of life. My pelvis has been exposed to androgens for too long.
The junk I was born with?
Never have liked it, it’s always felt like it never belonged down there.
What do I plan to do?
Well, the first thing will be to start on anti-androgens and then start on a estrogen.
Due to my age I more than likely won’t be able to oral estrogen, I’ll more than likely have to stay with dermal patches.
The nice thing about going on estrogen is it will reduce my muscle mass. My body has always felt foreign to me. The mental image that I have of my body is much smaller than what my physical body actually is. My body has always felt like it belonged to someone else.
If the anti-androgens and the estrogen have the effects that I desire, then I intend to go for orchiectomy. That is I intend to have my testicles removed. Castration basically. Absolutely no more androgen production.
And then a penectomy. That is, the complete removal of my penis.
But no, there will be no vaginoplasty. I got fucked enough as a kid, I don’t need anymore penises inside of my body. Besides, as I said, I don’t truly identify as female. It’s just I don’t identify as male.
And I want to get rid of my male junk.
How will I pee? Good that you asked.
Same way that guys who have had penectomies due to cancer urinate. My urethra will be connected to a new opening and I’ll urinate through that.
What will I look like? A Ken doll…….with a scar.
Isn’t that a bit drastic?
No.
As I’ve said, I have always despised the junk between my legs. It’s always felt like a punishment.
So, I get to get rid of it finally AND I get to have the breasts that I always wanted.
In 2008, just after I legally changed my name, I sent my father a letter explaining why I had changed my name. I was very clear with Richard this was something that I wanted to do and that he was losing a son that he didn’t want and was gaining a daughter that he wouldn’t have wanted either.
I guess this is why he told the Canadian Forces National Investigation Service in 2011 that he knew that I had changed my name, but that he didn’t know why I had changed my name.
He knew why I changed my name. I guess that having a homosexual son was bad enough, but now having a gender non-conforming son was even worse.
I had called him during the 2011 CFNIS investigation. I asked him for help with the investigation. Not once did he return any of my calls. And he plunged the proverbial knife into my back in 2011 when he gave his statement to the CFNIS in 2011 in which he denied the babysitter looked after my brother and I and in which he denied that grandma was raising my brother an I on CFB Namao.
So yeah, I guess his gender non-conforming son was an insult that he wasn’t willing to wear.
I do wish that he was still alive.
Just so that he could see me in my dresses, with my breasts…….. that would have been priceless.
But Bobbie, you have no hair!
Yep, that’s cool. There are a ton of awesome looking bald women. With tattoos to boot. In fact, the reason that I started shaving my head back in 1990 was Sinead O’Connor. She looked powerful with her 0 buzzcut.
One thing that I do wonder about, what would things have been like had I come out as gender-queer and gender non-conforming on a Canadian Armed Forces base when I was a kid back in the ’80s?
Sure, the civilian world wasn’t that too receptive yet, but the civilian world was far more accepting than a Canadian military base would have been.
Would I have survived?
Or would I have quietly disappeared either at the hands of my own father or at the hands of another member of the Canadian Forces disgusted by a person like me being “out” on the base.
If I had told my father or even Captain Terry Totzke between 1980 and 1987 that I identified as a female, I think I would have encountered a tragic conclusion.
Anyways, enough about the past, I’m looking forward to my April appointment.
Beeshive 