Angie’s Story
I am Angie, a trans lesbian and proud!
By Angie
Angie’s Story
I am Angie, a trans lesbian and proud!
By Angie
Once upon a time the 1950s, in a land far away grim northern town, a child was born into this world in a crumbling Victorian hospital. His parents lived across the road in a terraced house with a cobbled street and an air of neglect all around.
If you haven’t already guessed, the child was me. Soon after, we moved to a brand-new house on the edge of town. There, the birds sang. The grass was green, not brown, and the chance of a better life seemed possible. My younger years are now just a blurred memory, but I felt safe and secure and loved. Secondary school was miserable though, as I always felt different to the other teenage boys. I hated sports and lessons but loved music and being around girls – even though they seemed like a different species to me! I did badly in exams, and on leaving school, I ended up as an apprentice machinist in a factory which seemed to be from an L.S Lowry painting!
I was painfully shy around young women but adored everything about them. They wore mint skirts and boots, and they had long hair and lovely makeup. I felt more affinity with them than my male friends. I could not explain why I felt this way – I just knew I was different.
My ‘Eureka’ moment – well, there were two actually -was when I read “Conundrum’ by Jan Morris after seeing a book review and hearing about “The Rocky Horror Show! Now things began to make some sort of sense. But this was 1970s Britain – not the easiest of places to be different! I was aware of glam-rock, but this world could never exist outside London or large cities – could it? I could dream.
I had stumbled into marriage much too young and naive – but that was what we did in those days! I had wrongly assumed that my desire to express myself in a more feminine way was just a phase that marriage would surely resolve. It didn’t. Within months, it came back, and I stupidly clumsily explained this to my wife, with disastrous consequences – as they say! This one moment of misguided honesty on my part resulted in a loveless, hideous farce which dragged on for 42 years. Two people sharing the same space and time but having little interest in each other, either physically, emotionally, or even intellectually. How we stayed together for so long, I have no idea. My wife tolerated ‘Angie’ but did not wish to see her. She saw ‘Angie’ as a threat and even said it was as if I was having an affair!
Five years ago, my wife died after a long and unpleasant illness. It was during ‘Covid” and many people died, so death was commonplace. I cried a lot – not for her – or even me – but for us and what could have been—so many wasted, bitter and sad years.
Shortly before she died, my wife unexpectedly said I could dress in her presence and seemed ok having ‘Angie’ around. Why now? Why not 30 years earlier? Was I being forgiven? I don’t know.
Within weeks of her death, “Angie’ emerged from the closet – ready to face the world. I had perfected my makeup, already had lots of female clothing, and I knew I was ready!
I had already told people I worked with that I intended to transition, so it was no surprise when I did. I did it in phases. Firstly, I only wore nail polish and mascara. Then I wore leggings, a bra, eyeshadow and a wig. I was a ‘stealth tranny’ so the changes – even when they happened – were not a big shock.
Eventually, I was 100% ‘Angie’! Five years on, and I thought people were accepting me fully as ‘Angie’. How wrong could I have been? I had posted pictures of Angie for years on a photo-sharing website – some of which I had taken at work. I posted one which could only be remotely viewed as risqué, but someone at work saw it and reported it to HR. They could have been trolling me for years, waiting for the right moment. HR then assembled a case against me, citing ‘breaking company rules’ and analysing my computer search history. After suspending me for weeks and interviewing my ‘friends’, my position became untenable. I resigned before the indignity of a disciplinary hearing. It seems that transphobia is alive and well – despite Britain’s liberal posturing.
So – where am I now? I am a pensioner, unemployed, and physically well, apart from early-stage prostate cancer. Fit for a 69-year-old, and yes, I have a gorgeous trans girlfriend who I love dearly. She was my rock when my wife died, and although we live a long way apart, we get together often and speak every day. I am Angie, a trans lesbian and proud!