Becoming Myself: The True Story of Thomas Who Became Sara (20 page)

Before I got to this point, however, I would have to go lower than I ever had before. On two occasions, I took an overdose of tablets and downed a lot of alcohol. The simple fact was that I wasn’t able to cope with the strain my situation was putting on my friendship with Kathy and the constant stress from trying to earn a living while having to deal with Barbara’s resistance to my application for an annulment to our marriage.

I felt extremely fortunate to have someone as strong as Kathy with me. She was clearly very distressed and very angry at my suicide attempts, but she did not understand the depth of my distress and the depression I was under. As a man I was expected to be the strong one all the time but that really was impossible and unsustainable, not least because I was really a woman, and a very sensitive one at that, trying with increasing difficulty to be the man I was expected to be. What mattered was that I get on with trying to run my business so I could keep a roof over our heads and food on the table.

The whole situation was getting to Kathy and brought her to breaking point. Her husband had died and she was feeling very torn between wanting a new life and missing her children. She didn’t need to cope with my situation; something had to give and it did. Kathy returned to Limerick and once again I was on my own.

I honestly could not see any way through the seemingly endless difficulties, so suicide once again seemed like the only way out. Of course it was not, but when you reach such a low point and all around you seems utterly dark and hopeless, you see suicide as a relief to those you leave behind. I decided to end my life, believing that I wouldn’t be missed by anyone, especially not by my family.

On a Sunday afternoon, I made myself ready. I did try to contact Kathy in the hope of telling her how I was feeling and that she might be able to offer me some comfort, but she was not answering her phone and in my sensitive state of mind I thought it was because she didn’t want to talk to me. I decided to make a success of it this time. What I didn’t know as I downed the tablets and the whiskey was that Kathy was actually on her way back to Midleton with her daughter and her daughter’s boyfriend. They arrived at the apartment only to find me in a semi-conscious state. I was taken by ambulance to the Mercy hospital. Even in my condition I was able to see how angry Kathy was and how she’d had enough of my persistent efforts to try to kill myself.

I was kept in overnight for observation and Kathy was to collect me around lunchtime. I slept right through to the morning and when I awoke spent the entire morning pondering what I’d done. Clearly, I was not meant to die, and there must be a purpose to my life. I thought of all the reasons why I felt so bad and so depressed and came to the
conclusion that I had to stop seeking approval from everyone around me by living a false life. I finally started to accept that I could not go on living as a man and that I was going to have to find the courage and determination to do something about it. I didn’t have a clue where to start, but start I must. It was with this new resolve that I went home to Midleton. It was to be another two or more years before I finally got to see Dr Kelly, but I did and I have never looked back since.

I spent the intervening period building my business and dealing with my depression. I did not seek medical intervention as I did not believe I had a clinical depression. There is no doubting that, once I made my decision never to attempt suicide again, I found an inner determination and strength to see it through. I decided to put a plan in place to build a new life for myself and I started by giving Kathy all the reassurances I could that I would never put her through that kind of distress again and took every step necessary to fulfil that promise, and I have kept it to the letter. Another of my plans was to develop a much more positive state of being, both in mind and body, and to rebuild my health and wellbeing. This involved making contact with my parents in order to give them one last chance to reconcile with me and if they didn’t, then it was going to be fine: I was determined not to keep carrying the hurt on my shoulders and in my heart.

A radio interview with Ger McLoughlin at the
RTÉ
studios in Cork helped me immensely at this time. Describing me as a very gentle and kind man, the interview was about how I was struggling to deal with my depression without the help of medication or psychiatric intervention, as I was absolutely certain that my depression was not clinically related. This decision helped me to realise that, in my depression, I was on a journey of discovery and my perception changed from one
of fear and dread to one of purpose and determination.

It was in this much more positive state of mind that I resolved to look for the help I needed to deal with my gender problem and to remain steadfast in my belief that my marriage should be annulled; nothing else was going to do me now. I resolved to use my suicide attempts for the good of myself and of others. I used them as a barometer of the true nature and extent of my own difficulties: nothing could bring me as low again as when I was sitting on that hospital bed alone.

The defining moment came when I went onto the internet and typed in words like, ‘transgendered’, ‘transsexual’, ‘cross-dressing’ and ‘Ireland’. The result was a number of e-groups that offered support for people with gender problems. Among the contact names, one was Diane Hughes, who gave me the name of Dr James Kelly, a psychologist specialising in gender identity cases, and his phone number in Dublin.

I started to dress more frequently but still hadn’t made an appointment with Dr Kelly, partly due to my business keeping me very busy and the whole situation with the annulment of my marriage to Barbara. The Legal Aid Board had finally assigned me a solicitor to deal with my application for nullity and so I was busy preparing discoveries and affidavits. We also had to move house a couple of times during this period, from Willowbank to Castlemartyr.

It was while in Willowbank that I secured a two-year contract as Associate Faculty Lecturer with the National College of Ireland. This came completely out of the blue when I was asked to replace another lecturer at short notice. In spite of having very little time to prepare my lectures, all of my students got through their assignments successfully, and I received excellent feedback from the college, which pleased me greatly. Later on, I was offered a contract with the college
on the strength of the work I’d done and on the strength of my résumé. The next year I was given another contract. Things were definitely looking up.

When I received news that I was to get a contract, Kathy and I decided to go to the Midleton Park Hotel to celebrate. We discussed so many things that night, but one subject really stands out and that was the name I should go by if I decided to go ahead and live as a woman. Up to that time I had preferred the name Jenny, but Kathy felt that the name did not suit me and that Sara-Jane suited me a lot better. I agreed and felt that she had given me a very precious gift. Her support had meant the world to me and so it was a terrible loss to me when she returned to live in Limerick. But she was with me when I first went to see Dr Kelly and later when I stepped out for the first time as Sara.

I
t was August 2003 and I was driving to Dublin full of apprehension and excitement. I was finally going to get to the heart of why I felt so much like a woman and why I needed to dress as a woman — to
be
a woman. I had often thought that all of this was due to some maladjustment during puberty and adolescence and that it had something to do with my sexuality and my inability to determine whether I was heterosexual, gay or bi-sexual. I was open to whatever Dr Kelly had to tell me and was very happy to resolve the situation for once and for all, especially if it meant finally coming to terms with my need to be and dress as a woman. This was a really big deal and I had a sense that all those years of praying and fasting were to be answered for once and for all.

Dr Kelly took me by surprise with his rather conservative views on the issues we discussed, but he also gave me a lot of reassurance. I felt secure in whatever he had to tell me and I was genuinely prepared to be told that my problem was nothing more than a compulsion to cross-dress. I wanted to put this all behind me and move on with my life. But in order for that to happen I had to be absolutely honest with him.

I told him that I was cross-dressing and that I felt it could be because of a maladjusted adolescence. I was open to finding out the reason and to getting whatever help I could to resolve the matter. Then I said, ‘But if you were to ask me how I really feel, then I would have to say that I really feel like a woman on the inside.’

Dr Kelly suggested we start at the beginning and asked about my family background and history and so on. As time went on, my body language changed completely as did my voice and I was so relaxed that my female personality came out, despite all my efforts to keep it hidden. Dr Kelly told me that he would have to carry out a second evaluation before he could give me a diagnosis. I had to return in a couple of weeks and it was some wait. I spent the whole time imagining what Dr Kelly was going to say to me and how my life was going to be affected thereafter. I tried to imagine him telling me that I was woman in a man’s body and where that news would take me, not the least being any decisions I might have to make about gender reassignment and what it would entail.

So I returned to see Dr Kelly, but this time I was alone, which was probably just as well, given the enormity of the news I was to receive and my need to take it in. Dr Kelly made it clear that there was no doubt in his mind that I had a female gender identity. I was just a woman who happened to be born into the wrong body, and all because of something that happened within weeks of my being conceived. I’m not a freak or a mental case, I had a real condition, Gender Identity Disorder.

No sooner did I get my diagnosis than I was discussing being referred to Dr Donal O’Shea, the Endocrinologist at St Colmcille’s hospital in Loughlinstown, to commence my hormone treatment and the gender reassignment process. I
was also to undergo a second psychiatric evaluation to confirm Dr Kelly’s diagnosis. But there was one other very important matter: I was required to come as Sara on my next visit to Dr Kelly. Oh, my god, I thought. It is one thing to know yourself to be a woman trapped in the wrong body and to long for nothing more that to be set free to live your life as you have spent a lifetime imagining it, but it is quite another to actually dress fully as that woman and go out in public. But everything I’d been through over my lifetime was pointing to taking this step and, to be honest about it, I was completely determined. I asked Kathy if she would come with me and she agreed. I was so happy and appreciative of her being with me and it gave me the courage I needed to go through with it.

My next visit to Dr Kelly took place on a clammy November day and I could hardly sleep the night before between the excitement and the terror. I got up about 5.30 a.m. and got myself ready. I had breakfast but could hardly eat it on account of being so nervous. I took one last look in the mirror before leaving and when I did, I was rooted to the spot. Of all the times I’d dressed and put on my make-up, they were never like this one occasion. This was me going out into the world as Sara for the very first time. I had to do everything I could not to burst into tears. I felt like my new life was about to start.

We left for Dublin about 7.30 a.m. but not until after I’d made numerous trips to the toilet. The only good thing about the journey was being in my car, but it was warm and sweaty. I normally make one stop on the way to Dublin, but this time I had to stop about five times.

We eventually reached Dublin. Heading towards Capel Street Bridge, my nerves were shattered, but I was bursting to
go to the toilet again and so we went down to the toilets in the Jervis shopping centre. I had been so nervous imagining what could happen to me, but I hadn’t thought that my first culture shock as a woman would be having to wait in a queue to use the women’s toilets. Only one young teenager looked at me, which I thought was very strange, as I had expected more curiosity. I know that this is going to sound strange, but, while I sat in that cubicle, I felt like I really belonged and it felt peaceful. But when I stepped outside again, I was in a complete panic and rushed out of the toilets and told Kathy I needed to get back to the car.

Kathy suggested that we go for a walk as this would give me the chance to calm down and relax before going into Dr Kelly. So we did, but not before I put on my long grey coat and hat. We walked along the boardwalk on the Liffey. As we headed back towards the car, a man was walking towards us and he seemed to be saying something. Of course, I thought he had sussed me and was saying something rude, but as he got nearer he looked straight at me and said: ‘I was just saying to myself that you’re a very lovely looking lady.’

‘Oh, my gosh! Oh, my gosh!’ is all I could say in response, while Kathy said: ‘There you are now, and there was you wondering what people would think.’

It was five minutes past four and we headed for Dr Kelly’s office. I went in ahead of Kathy and when I entered Dr Kelly’s office, he just kept looking at me as if I was a total stranger.

‘Hi there, sorry I’m late,’ I said.

He just kept looking at me and said, ‘I’m sorry but I am expecting someone else but their appointment isn’t until half-four.’ It was at this time that Kathy came through the door and the penny dropped. ‘Is that you Sara?’ I confirmed that it was in fact me and thanked him for not recognising
me and said that I must be getting off to a good start. He told me that I looked very impressive and very passable even at that early stage of my gender reassignment, and that he had no advice to give me about my dressing or my make-up.

Then, Dr Kelly proceeded to take me through the various stages of my reassignment, one of which was that I would have to have a tracheal shave, that is, have my Adam’s apple shaved to give me a female shape to my neck. But I don’t have an Adam’s apple and he was very surprised about this. He said it was going to be a significant advantage going forward.