Pick Me Up!

Born a boy but she chose to be a girl at 4

Terri Lammin, 43, from Ramsgate, is so proud of her transgende­r child…

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There is nothing more important to me than seeing my children happy.

Watching my toddler son grow up confused and uncomforta­ble in his own body was heart-breaking.

Although Ashton was born male, from the moment he could speak, he insisted that he was a girl.

Now, Ashley, aged 13, is one of Britain’s youngest transgende­r children.

She has never been happier, and I have never been more incredibly proud.

When Ashton was just three years old, he was determined that the name I’d chosen wasn’t right for him.

He even complained his body was wrong.

‘But it’s a horrible name!’ Ashton screamed at dinner.

My other two children, Sharla, then seven, and Archie, then two, were used to the usual conversati­on.

‘It’s a lovely name,’ I said. ‘It suits you!’

‘I’m a boy because you gave me a boy’s name,’ Ashton said.

‘It’s your fault!’

I remember feeling horrible and guilty.

From then on, I started referring to Ashton as ‘Ash’.

At the time, I sort of assumed Ash would turn out gay – which I was completely fine with.

‘I want the mermaid outfit!’ Ash insisted.

Always choosing the princess dresses over the action man costumes, Ash’s bedroom was pink and fairy themed.

When Ash was four, he announced that he wanted his ‘winky chopped off’.

‘You what?’ I asked, in shock. ‘My winky, I’m not a boy,’ he said, a look of grief sweeping over him.

My heart sank.

I need to do something! I thought. But at the time, I had no idea what I was dealing with. Then everything changed when a social worker came to my house to talk about a friend’s child.

‘Hi, I’m Ash, I’m four,’ Ash said, introducin­g himself. ‘You’re very pretty!’ said the social worker.

‘Ash is a boy, not a girl!’ my older kids corrected.

After our meeting, the social worker took me to one side and explained that she thought Ash might be transgende­r. ‘What’s that?’ I asked.

I’d never heard of ‘transgende­r’ before.

‘It’s a term used to describe people whose gender identity differs from the sex they were assigned at birth,’ she said. And suddenly, s everything made sense.

Ever since the moment Ash could walk and talk, he wanted to be a girl. ‘There’s a gender clinic in London,’ she explained to me. Waving the social worker off, I felt relieved, but overwhelme­d, overwhelme­d too. If Ash chose to transition, I worried about bullies and how other people would react.

Not wanting to pressure Ash into to make a decision at such a young age, I decided to just go with the flow.

If Ash wanted to wear a dress at home, I was happy with that.

My other children picked up on the fact Ash wanted to be a girl – there was never a sitdown conversati­on.

And so, Ash was no-longer a boy in our eyes.

Whilst I waited for referrals to the clinic, I had my fourth child Oscar, and Ash started primary school.

‘I won’t wear those trousers, they’re for boys!’ she’d cry, during her daily tantrums.

The morning routine became a nightmare.

She was so upset that she had to dress as a boy when she didn’t feel like one.

The teachers were also worried about her behaviour.

‘What will help?’ the headmaster asked me.

‘It’s the uniform,’ I explained to him. ‘She wants to wear the girl’s one…’

‘So be it!’ he said, kindly. ‘She should wear whatever means she can learn the best

and feel most comfortabl­e in.’

That afternoon, I went out to the shops and bought Ash a whole new uniform.

The next morning was a dream – Ash was ecstatic to wear the skirt, just as all the other girls did.

We even gave her pigtails! Although Ash felt a thousand times better, the problems were not over...

Sadly, other parents at the school couldn’t understand why Ash was wearing dresses.

She began to get excluded from outside school events. It was heart-breaking! But I knew it was the right thing to do.

The harder path was the right one – Ash was happier than ever before.

After getting referrals from the GP, school and social services, we went off to London for our first meeting at The Tavistock Clinic.

‘I’m scared,’ Ash admitted on the train there.

‘You’ll be fine, we’ll just have a chat with them,’ I said, but deep down I was nervous.

Ash was strong, but still just a young child going through something enormous.

Thankfully, there was no need to be anxious – the meeting was very relaxed. And the staff were amazing! At aged eight, we changed Ash’s name to Ashley by deed poll, and her passport was changed to ‘female’.

Soon after, she started getting really badly bullied.

After a particular­ly violent episode in school – during which her arm was jammed onto a coat peg – I decided to home-school her. And when Ash was 10 years old, I moved my family to Brighton for a fresh start. ‘It’s a much more accepting way of life there, and she can start afresh, too,’ I told friends. She started at an amazing school – as a girl.

Whilst the teachers knew Ash was transition­ing, the students didn’t.

At first I was worried, but Ash insi insisted. Who am I to argue with that? I thought.

Being at that school was incredible for Ash’s confidence.

She maintained her identity, used the girls’ toilets, and wore her P.E. shorts underneath her skirt so she wouldn’t have to strip in the changing rooms.

Ash was loved by her fellow students – with no bullying.

Despite the benefits, it was hard on her living a lie.

‘I don’t want to keep it a secret anymore,’ she cried.

‘You don’t have to, it’s totally up to you!’ I reassured her.

It was integral for Ash being proud of who she is.

Around the same time, Channel 4 got in touch with us about featuring in a documentar­y called Kids on the Edge: The Gender Clinic.

Ash was really happy to share her story – it was time to tell the world her news. And so, she began filming. As much as we loved it in Brighton, we missed our support network at home, so we moved back to Kent.

When the documentar­y aired, we assumed Ash’s Brighton friends had found out that she was transgende­r. ‘I’m so proud!’ Ash beamed. Since, Ash has returned to her old school.

There are tough days, and Ash is being bullied online.

She suffers with anxiety and has even made suicidal comments–i am here for her every step of the way.

I think schools should educate kids on transgende­r people, in the same way they teach same-sex families.

It’s so important that kids understand what their peers are going through – and are accepting of it.

You should like someone for who they are, not what they are.

Now, Ash is 13, she’s into make-up and loves Tiktok!

She’s worried about her body changing during puberty and is top of the list for hormone blockers – to limit her testostero­ne.

This means she won’t develop male features, like broad shoulders, an Adam’s apple and a strong jawline.

She’ll most likely stay on these until she’s 16, then it’ll be her choice to have the full sex change operation.

Her final hurdle to becoming a real woman – which is all she’s ever dreamed of being.

‘I’d love to be a mum one day!’ Ash says, researchin­g womb transplant­s online.

Ash couldn’t be more excited whenever we speak about it.

‘I hope I can inspire others to be themselves,’ she says.

My daughter was simply born in the wrong body.

To us, Ash is just Ash. One of the strongest people I’ve ever met, and I am so glad I was chosen to be her mum.

 ??  ?? MY BRAVE GIRL
MY BRAVE GIRL
 ??  ?? Dressed up aged 4
Dressed up aged 4
 ??  ?? School is difficult
School is difficult
 ??  ?? So beautiful
True to herself
So beautiful True to herself
 ??  ?? Our ray of sunshine
Our ray of sunshine
 ??  ?? Sharing her story
Sharing her story

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