The Stonewall Riots – Skirtingroundmylife

You may not believe it but I have always known that I was socialised trans. I believe this was initially at least accidental but I think it eventually part of my closet reality. It was if you like a secret shared between mother and trans daughter. It may not have been full entry in to a girl’s world biology made that impossible but my upbringing was never what you would call that of a traditional West of Scotland boy. I think it may have been due to my disabilities and particularly my epilepsy that my mother was reluctant to let me do the great outdoors and the rough and tumble what she called their world. She did this as if to illustrate its otherness to the way I was to be part of. From my earliest memories my world was one of women and girls and not men and boys, this really worked well for me and I soon got to know the chat and in jokes no boy ever will ever be told. I was if you like semi socialised as a girl though ever the conservative I mean that in the social sense not the political one, she never extended this to gender appropriate Christmas or birthday presents. On those occasions it was always the latest table football games that were placed under the tree though eventually tights and make up would make their way in secret to my Christmas stocking once I reached 12 in my last year of primary school. In her own way I think my mother knew she had a daughter, but could never admit this to family, friends , and neighbours and least of all to herself. It was with this in mind I have written this poem which I have titled Accidental Girl I hope you enjoy the read.

Accidental Girl

I don’t think she would ever admit it
not even to her closest friends
but to me my mother feminised me
and whether she knew it or not
raised an accidental daughter
and moulded her in Presbyterian guilt

of course in my childhood years
such a notion would have been dismissed
I was eight in 69
that magical time of Woodstock , men on the moon and the stonewall riots
sailed past a quiet child

I had health concerns
my future labelled by experts
who as it turns out didn’t know
quite as much as they’d like to think
I tended towards pink rather than blue
and loved the shade she painted my nails
on the day Ann Jones won the Wimbledon ladies final

I wasn’t an only child
an older brother was allowed discover
the great outdoors
climbing trees and playing football
while I went to the shops
listened to small talk
and knew the difference
between every cut of meat in the butchers
before all the other kids
in the scheme

whether she knew it or not
my mother was shaping my future
in ways she could never have foreseen
when I was 12 or 13 I was allowed to buy Jackie
but woman’s own was to be my compulsory weekly reading

this she said was to remind me
of the drudgery of her daily existence
I was permitted to dress in private
and fitted in panty girdles
to give me a female shape
when pancakes as she called them
didn’t have the filling for a bra

she tried to convince herself
it would go away
my escape from the male gender cage just happened because I was bored
it annoyed her when she realised
that my female desires and dreams could no longer be ignored
she couldn’t content herself and say
it was just a rebellious phase
even though she was terrified of
the social plague
or as I called it neighbourhood gossip

she knew the truth of my real identity though sexuality was never discussed
she realised I had longings and lusts like a daughter not a son
though god knows she blushed at the thought of them
not that I would say too much to her. after all she raised me to be ladylike. and in that at least, her lassie
played by her rules

fast forward to the present day
you can see it was no phase or seven day wonder
thunder didn’t strike me down
nor did the sky fall in
on the accidental girl
who became more like her mother than she’d ever like to admit