KathyGrace Duncan
“All the negative experiences I had with men were clear indicators that women weren’t good, further validating my longing to be a boy.”
I grew up believing that men were superior to women. My dad was verbally and physically abusive to my mom and me, birthing within me the belief that women were hated, weak, and vulnerable.
Without a positive female role model, I questioned my value. I couldn’t imagine myself one day being treated like my mom. And because she was struggling to survive day by day, we never appropriately bonded. Instead, I became her comforter, which eventually caused me to detach emotionally. As a result, I longed to be a boy growing up. From as early as age 4, I felt I was in the wrong body. I fantasized about my pretend girlfriend, and with my peers, I always played the male role: the cowboy, the protector, the fireman. But as I grew older, life became more complicated. Wearing dresses to kindergarten, for example, was a very traumatic experience for me, and my fractured feelings grew stronger and stronger. My brother’s birth when I was seven further cemented the lie that boys were more worthy of affirmation than girls. Watching him and my father bond deepened my feelings of rejection, creating an even greater chasm between my father and me. I felt replaceable because of my gender, fueling my ever-growing desire to become a boy.
Around the age of 8, I found an article about transsexuals; I felt excited to learn of others who shared my feelings. Before I had the opportunity even to consider transitioning, however, I was molested by a family member. I was only ten years old when the sexual abuse began, and it continued until I was 12. This painful experience further reinforced my feelings of weakness and vulnerability. All the negative experiences I had with men felt like clear indicators that women weren’t good, further validating my longing to be a boy.
Not knowing what to do with my feelings, I confided in a younger male neighbor about my secret inward struggle. By age 16, I was going to school dances with him as a man. Introduced as his cousin to all his friends, I was able to secretly live a double life throughout high school. Eventually, this charade became too hard, so I found a doctor who prescribed me hormones to expedite my transition into manhood. Then I had both breasts removed. Before long, I found myself caught in a cycle of broken relationships, pornography addiction, isolation, and self-rejection, living as a man for 11 years.
Looking back, I realize I wasn’t equipped as a child with the maturity necessary to understand how my experiences were shaping my identity. I didn’t have the tools to look at my life and say, “My dad is an abuser. My mom is a victim, and this isn’t a healthy or safe environment for me.” Because being a woman felt wrong, I took my emotions into hiding. I wanted to be normal but didn’t know how. Telling others felt too vulnerable because I didn’t want to be bullied or perceived as weird.
Had I not been confronted by caring leaders in my church, I might still be living a lie. When I confessed the truth of my identity, however, they lovingly stood by me as I explored a return to womanhood. It was a decisive turning point in my faith. I believe Jesus led me through a years-long process of self-discovery in which I ultimately understood the reality of my childhood desire to be a man and explored the many hurts that reinforced that longing. Dissociated from my body and detached from any emotional connection to myself, I saw the world through a lens of brokenness and pain from my childhood that took time to address and resolve. I allowed myself to fully explore the emotional pain by trusting God to guide that challenging season. During this time, I purposefully pursued relationships with other women who could affirm and call me out as a woman. This process helped me discover safety with women and gave me a greater understanding of how to see myself rightly. I walked through a lot of forgiveness with my father for my upbringing, and I sought a resolution for the ways I rejected myself. By age 36, everything matched: my heart, body, and mind. Today God sees me as a daughter and a friend, and walking in community with others has further solidified my identity as a woman.