The bride, bodybuilder and the big secret
It was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, but something was very wrong
Walking down the aisle in a flowing, white dress, I’d plastered a huge smile on my face.
Immaculate make-up, tiara in place…
I looked every inch the perfect, blushing bride.
At 21, I was marrying a wonderful man named Adam.
This was supposed to be the happiest day of my life.
But I was a fake…
I didn’t want to be the blushing bride… I wanted to be a man.
Ever since I was 10 years old, I’d known that I was different.
I didn’t want to wear pink frilly dresses or play with dolls.
I wanted to do everything that my older brother Colin, then 13, did.
Skateboarding and football…
I persuaded my mum Cindy to let me copy him.
‘Please let me have short hair, Mum!’ I begged.
She thought it was cute that I was a tomboy, and let me follow Colin around on my bike.
Cap on my head, baggy trousers and shirt on. People thought that I was his brother not his sister!
Except, when I went for football trials, I was put on the girls’ team!
‘Why can’t I play with the boys?’ I sulked to my dad Paul.
But it turns out that it was normal for the boys and girls to be separated.
The girls on my team would be gossiping away, while I watched the boys playing wistfully.
I just wanted to be one of them.
In senior school, puberty in full swing, I developed womanly curves, breasts. And hated them! The other girls would leave me out, too. I wasn’t feminine enough.
And, instead of sharing their interests, I was far more interested in them!
But, as I come from a religious family, I tried to shut out those feelings.
It just wasn’t ‘normal’.
By the time I got to 20, girls of my age began settling down.
I thought people would know I was gay if I didn’t have a husband.
In 2007, I met Adam online and, a year later, we got married in church.
Standing there at the altar, I looked over at Adam.
He was perfectly handsome, kind and loving. But I felt no romantic feelings towards him.
We moved from home in California to Germany, where Adam was stationed.
He’d be working away for months at a time.
Feeling lonely and miserable, I threw myself into running. Like I’d done at school… Two years later, I was walking back from the shops when I stopped in my tracks. It hit me. There has to be more to life than this! I decided.
I persuaded Adam to let me return to the States.
I wanted to go to culinary school and try to make something of myself.
I told Adam I’d be back once the two-year course was over.
But, in 2011, our marriage fell apart and we divorced.
Although I was very sad for Adam, I did feel free.
One night, I was reading news online when an article about a man now living as a woman caught my eye…
As I read on, it was like I was breathing air for the first time.
I discovered a new world, one in which I wasn’t a freak.
There were other people who also felt just like me. Born in the wrong body. And there was a name for the way I’d always felt. Transsexual. Now I knew that I couldn’t live a lie any longer…
Then, one night, I read a news article online...
First, in 2012, I broke the news to my parents that I was attracted to women. It was a painful time for us all. Then, a year later, I broke the even bigger news…
‘I want to be a man,’ I was finally able to confess.
Mum cried for weeks and just couldn’t understand.
‘Why aren’t you happy being a woman?’ she sobbed.
I gently explained that I’d felt this way my whole life.
‘I feel like I’m losing a daughter,’ she cried.
After a few weeks, though, she realised that she’d never really had a daughter, only a son that looked like one.
My dad was quiet about it – but, after a few years, he accepted my choices. ‘I’m proud of you,’ he said. And that really meant a lot. In 2014, I started planning for surgery to have my breasts removed.
Turns out a mastectomy would cost £10,000.
Thankfully, my best friend Jenny agreed to lend me some of the cash towards it.
The rest I fundraised with some help from the LGBTQ+ community in California.
They were a real lifeline.
That year, a weight was lifted off my chest – quite literally!
After gruelling surgery, I looked down and no longer saw boobs that didn’t belong. I saw a man. I couldn’t stop staring at my flat chest, my dreams coming true at last.
In time, hormone therapy helped me to grow a beard, changed my jawline and deepened my voice.
Though I’d wanted it forever, it was still a big change.
So, when I had dark days, I threw myself into getting fit.
Finally, in January 2015, I had phalloplasty – it would make me a man…down there.
My ovaries and womb were removed first, when I underwent a hysterectomy.
Then in an eight-hour op, a skin graft and nerves for arousal were taken from my left forearm.
Along with muscle and tissue from my vagina, doctors used it all to form my penis.
During my recovery, I was told I wouldn’t be able to run. So I began to lift weights.
Only small amounts at first, but I really got into it.
Working on my strength made me feel more masculine.
Soon, my womanly curves were gone. In came muscles!
By October 2016, I’d got an impressive, rippling torso.
I really loved having my new manly six-pack!
Deciding to turn my new hobby into something more, I signed up to take part in a bodybuilding competition.
I began training six times a week, and then...
As I walked out on stage, it felt like my wedding all over again.
All eyes were on me – but this time round my smile wasn’t fake.
As I took centre stage, I flexed my bulging muscles and the women in the crowd screamed! They saw me as a man. And I came second! Seeing photos from the event was surreal.
I had to pinch myself that the man in the photos was me.
I went from hating my body to worshipping it.
Since then, I’ve completed a qualification in personal training, and so now I’m helping other people gain their dream body – just like I did.
This December, I’m having both testicular and shaft implants.
And, when I recover, I’ll be able to have an erection, have sex.
I’m single at the moment, but I’m dating women.
It’s not on my profile that I’m trans – but when I meet the right person, I’ll tell them all about my journey.
As for now, I’m focusing on being the best me I can be.
Sometimes, it feels like the first 31 years of my life were all a bad dream.
Now, I’ve been given a second chance.
And I’m determined not to waste another second of it!
All eyes were on me, but this time my smile was real!