Secretarial Studies – Skirtingroundmylife

In this poem I travel back to the mid to late 1970’s as I look at why my youth was a challenging time for a trans teen who knew I was but also know what the world could and couldn’t accept as I reluctantly played by the rules. I’ve titled it Language Of The Times I hope you enjoy the read

Language Of The Times

In the 70’s tough talk was
the language of the times
my dad called me half pint
I think he must have known
all was not as it seemed
for a troubled teen tormented by biology
liking things I wasn’t supposed to like
wearing tights and frilly knickers under trousers
would make a social leper of me
to testosterone fuelled boys
who enjoyed teasing anyone who didn’t fit the bill

I got on better with girls
and was more at home
in secretarial studies
than woodwork or technical drawing
and knew the value
of accessorising lingerie
long before I was allowed to wear anything flattering.
my mother had rules
both in school and at home
there were things that nice girls don’t do
so she told me if I wanted to live a girl’s life
then I needed to learn how to be a wife
and not be so rebellious
and yes sex which I should avoid until legally wed
even though I thankfully couldn’t get pregnant
would be sore
once a night to start with then eventually
twice a week and no more
it was a duty to be endured not a pleasure to be enjoyed
as for my teens there would be no kissing boys
as it would interfere with homework and studies
and time to read women’s magazine
to teach me what I needed to be taught

not that such chances ever came up in those days
when songs of praise was her idea of Sunday night TV
well there was one boy in my class I really liked
though I never got the chance to invite him to dinner
at least he was spared the ordeal
of meeting the family
in the days when sexuality was never discussed
but I blushed on seeing the Bay City Rollers on top of the pops.

the I like them because they’re Scottish
never did quite wash
especially so soon after loving the Osmonds
and the dad who called me half pint
knew more than he let on
though he never teased me about my taste
or asked what one I fancied
he knew a lady never tells
even years later there are certain things a woman keeps to herself
or only shares with girls
and what happened at the high school disco
will remain a secret between her and the boy
with whom she shared that special moment
I know she will take to the grave