Beyond Magenta: Transgender Teens Speak Out
CHRISTINA: Every Girl Is Different
ABOUT THE CALLEN-LORDE COMMUNITY HEALTH CENTER
The stories you are about to read are of real people, members of the transgender community, whom I have come to appreciate and respect. An author is supposed to be objective, and this author has withheld judgment while conducting interviews, taking photographs, and writing. But my subjects’ willingness to brave bullying and condemnation in order to reveal their individual selves makes it impossible to be nothing less than awestruck.
As part of their transition, most of the participants have changed their birth names. Whenever I refer to them, I use their chosen name and PGPs — preferred gender pronouns — before, during, and after their transition. My comments are represented in a different typeface.
Since each chapter is different, like a series of short stories, you can read them as I placed them or in whatever order you want.
Susan Kuklin
When Jessy got his period, he was confused. He says, “It was, like, ‘Oh-my-good-ness!’ I cried to my mom: ‘Why, why, why? Why am I a woman? I don’t want this. I don’t want to give birth to a child. I want kids, but I don’t want to be the one giving birth. I don’t need menstruation. Mom, I don’t want this.’
“‘You think I want it?’ she said. ‘Every woman deals with it. It’s what makes you a woman.’
“And I was, like, ‘Oh, God! Here we go.’”
I was never a person who said, “I hate my body.” I just wanted it to fit more with what I felt inside. I ate right and treated my body with care because it’s the house of my soul. I’ve always loved my body, and now I love it even more because it fits how I feel.
I’ve never been gay-bashed. No one has ever said really hurtful things to me. I’ve never experienced much disrespect from my peers. I think that’s because I have a positive attitude. I’ve always been happy and bubbly, and I’ve never made people feel uncomfortable about who I am. My Facebook page says “male — so happy I’m taking T,” so I’m out there. (“T” stands for
testosterone,
a male hormone.)
All in all, I had a fun childhood. I did a lot. I took music lessons — piano and guitar. I was in honors band, and I also played the saxophone. Everyone has bad times, sad times, and I have too, but mostly I’m the funny, loud, happy person in the room. I’m the one making jokes, playing pranks. Ask my advisor. Ask my friends.
My real name is Kamolchanok. It’s a long name. I’m Thai. I’m from Bangkok. When I moved to the U.S. with my parents, they said, “No one’s ever going to say your name properly, so let’s just call you Jessica.” I was okay with that when I was little.
I was always a tomboy, always the girl who played with boys. After a while, people said, “We’re going to call you Jess. Jessy.” I still use my real name on legal documents, but everybody knows me as Jessy.
I’m an only child, an only daughter. My parents call me their son now.
In the beginning . . .
When I was three or four, my parents moved us to the U.S. because of my dad’s career. He’s a diplomat. We lived in Cooper City, Florida, until I was about thirteen.
As a three-year-old, I had a lot of boy friends and we were always playing with toy guns. One day I went into the boys’ bathroom with them, and my mom pulled me out. “You can’t go into that bathroom.” I was heartbroken.
“Why can’t I go into that bathroom?”
“You’re a girl — you have to act like one. You can’t always be with the boys.” From that early age, I knew that being a girl is not me — that is not how I feel.
