Double life agony
After decades proving my manhood, I’m finally free
Hiding in my gran’s bathroom, I secretly applied her lipstick and mascara.
It was 1972 and, age 5, I preferred dressing up to playing football. That, to me, was normal. Only, deep down, I knew I was different.
‘Boys line up on my right, girls on the left,’ my teacher said one day shortly after.
Hesitating for a moment, I reluctantly joined the boys’ side. I longed to be one of the girls. Instead, I felt alone, somewhere between the two.
Back then, being transgender wasn’t talked about.
So I bottled up my feelings, played the part I was expected to, instead.
It got harder the older I got, but I was determined to hide who I really was inside. So... ‘I’m going to be a firefighter,’ I announced at the age of 19.
To me, it was a profession where there’d be no question of my masculinity.
I worked tirelessly, loved my job.
Every time I shimmied up a ladder or ran into a burning building, I felt I was proving myself as a man.
For brief moments, acting the hero calmed the conflict within me. Age 23, I married. But, inside, the real me was screaming to get out.
And she was a woman, named Stephanie.
So, two years later, I plucked up the courage to tell my wife the truth.
It was tough. She was understandably shocked.
But we agreed to try and make our marriage work.
So, every so often, when my urges became overwhelming, she’d leave the house so I could be Stephanie for the afternoon.
I’d delve into my treasure trove of dresses and blouses, put on my make-up and do everything to make myself as female as I could.
It’d all be washed off and put away before she got home. It was our secret. And, for years, that was enough. My brief moments as Stephanie were the release I needed.
Meanwhile, my career progressed. In 1994, I became Station Manager, even received an award from Prince Charles for my commitment.
From 1996, our family grew. We had two boys, Nathan in May 1996 and Joshua in August 2000. Being a dad was wonderful. I’d play football with them, and go to their matches.
Even though it was a sport I never really enjoyed, I’d do it for them.
They were typical lads and I played the part of a typical dad.
But as the boys grew into teenagers, living a double life was taking its toll.
My stints as Stephanie became more frequent.
And the more time I spent getting to know Stephanie, the more my male self seemed like a figment of my imagination.
In summer 2016, age 49, I reached breaking point.
‘I need to be the real me,’ I told my wife.
Our relationship had become strained, I was miserable.
By then, Nathan, then 20, and Joshua, 16, had noticed something was wrong.
‘We don’t care what it is, but we want to know,’ Nathan said. They deserved answers. So, taking a deep breath, I told them the truth.
‘I’m transgender,’ I said. ‘I’ve always known it and I need to stop living a lie.’
They were stunned, but tried to be supportive.
Things happened quickly after that – it was time to free Stephanie.
It was too much for my wife and she asked me to move out.
So I moved 70 miles away to a one-bed flat in Swansea, ready to start afresh.
For medical reasons, I left my job, lost weight, started to become Stephanie 24/7.
New city, new clothes. But the real me.
At last!
It was tough for everyone, and I didn’t see my sons for the next year as they rallied around their mum.
I understood, but it didn’t stop me from missing them. Still, free to be Stephanie I started hormone therapy and looking into surgery.
I began writing about my journey, and producers from ITV saw it and got in touch.
They wanted me to be part of a new documentary called
Transformation Street...
It was a series following individuals going through various stages of gender reassignment. It came totally out of the blue.
Acting the hero calmed the conflict within me
Do I want my
transition broadcast to the nation? I worried.
Yet I wanted to show the world who I was, spread the message that being transgender was nothing to be ashamed of. So I agreed. Filming started in September 2016.
Over the next months, camera crews followed my day-to-day life.
They filmed me undergoing facialfeminisation surgery on 13 September.
Over four hours, surgeons reduced my nose, narrowed my face.
Looking in the mirror for the first time post-op, I cried.
The woman I’d hidden away was finally staring back at me. Beautiful! I thought. I proudly showed off my new face to the cameras.
The more feminine I looked, the better I felt. Plus, I’m so much happier. The last day of shooting was on Father’s Day last year – and I was even reunited with my son Nathan.
Now I’m slowly rebuilding my relationship with him and Joshua.
In January, the three-part show aired. It was a mixture of emotions. I’d been worried, but then – seeing my face for the first time – I cried with joy.
I was proud of myself. I’d done it. And so far I’ve had positive feedback.
I’m proud of my sons, my career as a firefighter.
I regret causing my family pain, but for so long I lived a lie. Now I’m the real me.
I’m more than happy – I’m empowered and ready for whatever is next.