RHYANNON STYLES

ELLE’s transgender columnist

The same gender boundaries exist today that were around in Eighties rural England. As I grew up as Ryan, boys stood on one side of the playground and girls on the other. There was no space for anything else.

I didn’t understand why I wasn’t allowed to do the same things as the girls. At school I wanted to play netball with my friends. Instead I was forced to run around a frozen rugby pitch just because I had a certain genitalia – not because I wanted to. I recoiled in the gym changing rooms as boys charged through the steam and whipped each other with towels. My femininity was a target for the boys’ jibes. I was different to them, and it was obvious. During puberty, testosterone slowly wrapped its aggressive, hairy, rough paws around my soft body. I wanted to spend my Saturdays in the cosmetics aisle at Superdrug, shopping with my girlfriends for temporary aubergine hair dye. I didn’t want spots, facial hair and male adolescence.

I related to female Nineties rock icons, so I began to emulate what

I saw. I bought cheap, second-hand nylon slips from the local charity shop. In the confines and security of my teenage boy’s bedroom, I swished around in the mirror, posing to myself with a guitar slung over my shoulder. I didn’t look anything like Courtney Love, but this addition satisfied an inner desire. It temporarily freed me from masculinity and I slowly embraced femininity. Within the trans community, clothes are often used by many to embrace and define a sense of self. I couldn’t have survived the first few years of my transition without long hair, skirts, padded bras and lipstick. Before oestrogen enveloped my body in soft, sensual waves of joy, I needed to do all I could to feel feminine.

Simply getting the tube to work often felt like a battle. I smothered my face with layers of foundation and concealer – my defence against the whispering and snide glances. Under the fluorescent strip lighting, I felt vulnerable. I wore make-up like war paint, and did all I could to be viewed as female by other people.

Throughout my transition, my attitudes towards my own femininity have changed. I discovered it wasn’t just about replacing my wardrobe and adjusting my pronouns. To embody my female self I have had to learn to embrace the male. Masculinity was the prologue of my femininity. I had to honour the desires of the little boy I once was; I had to embrace Ryan to become Rhyannon. I can’t shed myself of my previous identity, and

‘MAKE-UP, HIGH HEELS AND LONG HAIR DON’T MAKE ME FEMALE, BUT THEY HELP ME SHAPE AND SCULPT MYSELF.

THEY HELP ME SURVIVE’