Letters – Skirtingroundmylife

In recent years I have seen many people writing letters to their younger selves. This is usually in connection with issues around either LGBT or Mental Health. As a transwoman of what some folk would call a mature vintage this got me thinking what advice would I have given to my younger trans self, and would the girl at 11 who had Donny Osmond posters on her bedroom wall and throughout her teens kept secret stashes of Jackie magazines under her bed have listened or would she have been too busy dreaming to pay attention to my words of so-called wisdom. In truth this is a question I can’t answer but I thought I would try to undertake the task by writing a poem on the issue I’ve given it the title A Letter To My Younger Self On Arriving Over The Rainbow. I hope you enjoy the read.

A Letter To My Younger Self On Arriving Over The Rainbow

Dear Younger Gayle
I remember the first time you got your hair curled
how happy you were to be treated like a girl
I recall the first boy who made you blush
You had a massive crush on him
and never really got over him
moving to London
at least not for a while
till Donny made you smile
and desperate to be his girl
you raided your mother’s wardrobe
seeking something you could find to wear
which would make you feel
like a fairytale princess
though you never found anything that exciting
navy pinafores and tan tights
were never that inviting
though they did make you feel ladylike
and that was all you wanted at the time
If I could have given you advice
It would be that being trans is not a crime
In fact it was you being true to yourself
it was good for your mental health
It saved your life
though I think you should have been bolder
more daring
taken those risks
see that guy you wanted to kiss
you should have grabbed the chance
when he asked you dance
he would have been a good boyfriend
at least at the start
yes eventually he would have broken your heart
but you would have recovered in time
though a month would have seemed like an eternity
I think you would have gone to university sooner than you did
got a better degree
your graduation dress
would have sat on the knee
well you always were a bit too puritan
culturally conservative with a small c
cautious yet you will become politically radical
you will be told you are being selfish
when the opposite is true
your teenage years are claustrophobic
the 1970’s had such a narrow view of rights and wrongs
girls were told a woman’s place is in the home
you will realise this is unfair
you will care about what others think and say
In the Scotland of your teens
you will learn it isn’t even acceptable to be gay
let alone want to change gender
you will be called inappropriate names like queer and bender
by those who refuse to understand
talking of names one of the benefits of being trans
is you get to choose your own
and the choice you made was not based on a character in a TV show
but on the fact you know and cherish your Celtic culture
and identity
you will be the type of woman
who wants to blend in
rather than stand out
you will never shout look at me
it is not who you were, are or will ever be
only those who really matter
will see your adventurous side
this is not because you want to hide it
rather it is due to your belief
that some things are best kept private
between those who share those moments of tenderness
you will be hurt by those who label you a disgrace
but by being yourself
you will be making the world a better place
so girls and trans girls of tomorrow’s generation
will be able to hold their heads high
reach the stars and touch the sky
as for me the middle aged mother hen I’ve become
is all due to the social conservatism of Scotland and mum
that’s why you didn’t come out till your late forties
a time when you were
less concerned about what was on trend
than supporting friends
you will be ruled by your emotions
you always talked of butterflies and oceans
a nurturing nature your strongest skirt suit
If I could I would have
advised you to stay true to your roots
and ground them in sisterhood
but you did it anyway
mothering the daughters you couldn’t have
I am glad I made the visit
though my time has limits
I must return to your future
but I travelled to your time
to tell you all will be fine
and a family of friends
will love you more than you know
be happy with the woman you will be
I am happy to be me
and proud that despite
not having sisters
you dressed me in tan tights and pinafores
as you started my journey
to glory

Lots Of Love Your Future Self

This poem illustrates one of my most vivid memories from my childhood which streched in to my teenage years. In it I recall how my maternal gran loved receiving letters from her sister in Canada. However it also relates a piece of family history which my gran shared with me which to this day is never widely known about by any surviving relatives and wasn’t even known to her youngest daughter namely my mother. The story tells not only of my gran’s joy at receiving the letters from her sister but the heartbreak which lay behind her move across the Atlantic. I’ve given it the title Letters I hope you enjoy the read

Letters

In her eighties my gran received letters

communication from a sister

who had left for Canada

six decades earlier

at a time when a Scotland was more puritan

than the country we know as home

my Gran never thought of emigration

when she talked of Chrissy

she said that her mother claimed

she had been banished to the colony

to save her soul from Satan

and the shame of having a bastard wean

in a good protestant family

in a privite moment she said

her dad had wanted his lassie to stay

but his ‘wife’ was having none of it

boasting that in her Londonderry

good protestants didn’t have sex for the fun of it

they did what they did to produce obedient children

loyal to kingdom and crown

knickers never came down

for thorns to be planted in the garden

this lack of compassion

hardened my gran’s heart against her stepmother

who she always viewed as a cruel vindictive woman

and the worst example of humanity

she had ever known

you would have hated her she said

as she read the latest letter to me

my gran had family she would never see

except in photographs sent with the letters

I know how much this hurt her

she told me the stories

she would never share with others

not even my mother

judging her youngest child

as too conformist to cope with the emotions

some family secrets would raise

I remember one letter from Christmas 78

it came with two packages

one of which my gran said

I had to open away from prying eyes

it was a surprise present for the girl

my gran had told her sister all about

the granddaughter born a boy

I enjoyed opening my parcel

which contained three pairs

of the most ladder proof tights

I’ve ever worn

in her note my great aunt said

there are some things a woman knows without saying

that need no explaining

girls and women talk in code

if they want to swap stories

they keep hidden from others

now I know what she meant by those words

I’ve used it myself to protect others

in letters and private chats

now in a time of the internet

my gran would have loved Instagram

but feel that Facebook has replaced the art of letter writing.