Waiting 80 years to be herself
Patricia Hailes sits, sunk into an olive armchair in her Christchurch home. Her pearl earrings shimmer in the sunlight. Her magenta button-up top and skirt deftly match her lipstick and painted nails.
‘‘I know a lot of people, but they don’t know me like this,’’ she says.
She points a pink nail at a photo in a dusty frame on the shelf behind her.
‘‘They know me like that character.’’
In the picture, a short-haired woman stands to the right of a person sporting a bushy white beard. They are standing in a garden somewhere, middle-aged and happy.
The person on the left is Patricia. About six months ago, Patricia hit a wall. She had lived her entire life as Barry Hailes, never quite feeling comfortable within herself.
She looked at her limited time ahead, and decided she had to change.
‘‘I could sit here and wait to die or I could do something about it.’’
She shaved off her beard, for decades a shield of sorts, put on a dress and immediately felt at home. She changed her name at her work, among her friends, and on her tax returns. Her doctor now recognises her as a woman.
‘‘I always envied anybody who could be themselves,’’ she says. ‘‘I am 79 – an old lady. That is how I see myself.’’
Patricia was born in 1942 and grew up on a farm in Whenuapai, in West Auckland. Her family was Roman Catholic. Even as a young child, she felt desires which were ‘‘a problem’’.
‘‘When I was 6, my cousins dressed me up . . . and I enjoyed it. There is nothing wrong with that, except I could not stop.’’
From then on, working on a farm taking care of 40-odd beehives, Patricia lived a double life. When she sold honeycombs on the side of the road, she wore a bra under her clothes. Driving the tractor, she kept a dress under the seat to slip into when no-one was around. When her mother was out, she dressed up in her clothes.
Every time Patricia wore women’s clothes, she felt relief. But the secrecy wore her down.
Growing up in a Catholic household came with restrictive ideas around gender identity. She asked God to make her a girl, but her prayers went unanswered.
As an adult, there was no respite. Years after she left school, Patricia ran an advertising company: Barry’s Newsletter Services. In the car, driving to sales meetings, she would wear a dress and change into a suit to meet clients.
In 1968, Patricia met her wife.
Three months later, they were married. Patricia did not reveal her secret. ‘‘If I told her, she might not have married me.’’
Two years into their marriage, her wife knew something was up. ‘‘She said: What is wrong with ya, you silly bugger? And I said: Well, I wear women’s clothes.’’
Patricia says her wife, who asked to stay anonymous for this story, ‘‘accepted me of sorts’’. Her wife still calls her Barry but has embraced her cross-dressing. She does Patricia’s hair. On Patricia’s last birthday, her wife bought her a ‘‘lovely’’ black dress.
Her four children were largely accepting – they told Patricia she could do ‘‘what the heck you like’’ but within the confines of home.
‘‘But that kind of doesn’t work either,’’ she says. ‘‘It is too restrictive.’’
A few months later, she put on one of her most colourful dresses and finally took to the streets.
She went to her church.
She got a reaction there but not too much.
‘‘I found people did not throw stones and I was quite happy . . . And now I don’t give it a second thought.’’
Recognising she was not alone in her struggle, she wanted to become an empathetic ear to others. She discussed it with her priest.
It took Patricia most of her life to be the person she longed to be. Lots of people were disappointed, she says, but ‘‘that is life’’. ‘‘It does not matter. The important thing is I am happier in a dress and my wife is learning to accept it . . . She has been loving, loyal.
‘‘I can’t describe the joy I get, being a woman . . . I am just an old lady . . . I just want to relax. Cause unless you love yourself, you can’t love anybody, and we all need love.’’
People have pushed her towards conversion therapy. But she is, finally, content. ‘‘Baz is long gone . . . I am quite happy within myself.’’