Becoming Myself: The True Story of Thomas Who Became Sara (24 page)

One of the options I considered was to defer my transition indefinitely, which would have been intolerable and heart-breaking in equal measure, while the other was to try to keep my head down as best I could and let on that there were two tall people living in the house, one male and one female! Another mad idea we came up with was for us to go to Spain to complete my full gender reassignment then come back as Sara. The only problem with this rather silly idea was that Kathy would then have to explain what had happened to Tom and who was the woman who came back with her? I know, I know, it was really silly, but this situation can do that to you sometimes.

However, I need not have worried. I decided upon a different course altogether and that was to allow a certain time to pass in which I would try to get to know my neighbours and give them the opportunity to get to know me, as a
normal person like themselves; as someone who just wanted to live in peace and get on with my life. Thankfully, I got to know my immediate neighbours in a very short period of time. This gave me the confidence to approach them individually and to explain my situation in an open and frank way. I put together an information pack which I then used to explain my condition to them.

Once I had decided to tell them, I approached all my immediate neighbours and explained my condition and what was going to transpire over the following months. They admitted that they were shocked and did not understand the condition, but they expressed their gratitude to me for telling them and wished me well. Others told me to tell them if I ever needed anything. I gave them permission to tell my other neighbours, as they were then likely to get a more accurate insight into what was happening. I was dumb-founded by their kindness and acceptance, which has made all the difference to me, and undoubtedly helped me to overcome some of my worst fears. I can honestly say that I have never felt as safe anywhere in my entire life. They exemplify the best of what good neighbours should be.

Hardly had I told my next-door neighbour and her daughters, than I was made welcome into their home and treated like one of the family. One of the girls was fascinated with the whole thing and would come to my defence whenever she heard her friends and schoolmates saying anything nasty about me. We share the same shoe size and it has been a running joke that Victoria has larger feet than me!

Shortly after I made my disclosure to my neighbours I was invited to a girls-only night in one of my neighbour’s, Gail’s, home. She invited me because she immediately identified with me as Sara. I did not dress on that occasion as I had not
yet met one or two of the neighbours and I didn’t want them to feel awkward. It proved to be the right decision. The girls made me feel completely relaxed and never once did they say or do anything to make me feel awkward or embarrassed.

One of my neighbours told me that her family thought I was one of a couple who just happened to be tall and who were working shift work. She said how they felt sorry for
us
as it must have been difficult for us to be coming and going at different times. I was chuffed to hear that and couldn’t help laughing, just as I do every time people call to the door and want to know if my husband is home. There have been times when a few of the men asked if I had a husband and when I said I hadn’t, wanted to give me their phone numbers.

I was calling to one of my clients, Conny Ovesen, in Robinwood Furniture, one afternoon in around June or July on some business matter, and while I was there I was introduced to Alice de la Cour of the
Irish Examiner
. Conny encouraged me to tell Alice about my situation; Conny had found the whole thing fascinating and thought I was very courageous to have told her and others about it. She actually felt proud to know me and so encouraged me to tell Alice. Alice asked me if I would be interested in doing an interview for the
Irish Examiner
. I said I would if it was handled sensitively and in good taste, being extremely mindful of my friends, neighbours, clients etc.

Alice was as good as her word and I was contacted some days later by a journalist, Helen O’Callaghan. We agreed to do the interview on 29 July. I waited anxiously and without any idea of what I was going to say, but once we got started, I relaxed, and the interview went on for a considerable time. Towards the end Helen asked if she could confess something to me. I said ‘sure’ and so she told me that when she was
thinking about meeting me she wasn’t sure if she’d remember to call me Sara and whether she would be comfortable. But she said that when she’d arrived all she saw was a tall, elegant lady. I was chuffed and went red.

On Wednesday 4 August the photographer from the
Irish Examiner
came to take photographs to be included in the article. I was feeling very awkward at having to pose for the camera, but hey, it had to be done. I then received a phone call on the Friday afternoon. It was Alice de la Cour: ‘Sara, if you don’t mind my saying, I’ve seen the photographs and, to be honest, they don’t do you justice.’

I was taken aback but before I got a chance to reply Alice said, ‘Sara, would you mind if I spoke to my editor and arranged for you to have a makeover? I can’t help feeling there is a beautiful woman in there bursting to get out and I want to help her to do that. Would you mind if I look around and get you some outfits that I think will suit you better than the one you’re wearing in those photos?’ I was absolutely thrilled and not a little red-faced. I agreed to her proposal and we both finished the call very happy and excited about doing the makeover. Me, getting a makeover? I was euphoric, like the cat that got the cream.

On the following Monday, Alice arrived at my house with three outfits, fashion jewellery and make-up, all of which were given on loan from Andrew Thomas Jewellers on North Main Street and Unicare Pharmacy and Evans on Patrick Street. Gail was with me during the makeover and she was completely amazed at the transformation taking place in front of her. Alice made me over from head to toe and it was exhilarating. I remember when she was putting on my eye shadow and suddenly jerked backwards and said, ‘Jesus girl, I’m starting to fancy you meself. You’re competition for me
now, so you better stay away from my patch.’ That did my heart a great deal of good. We were just finishing the makeover when Conny arrived with a bouquet of flowers, a bottle of champagne and a fabulous cake, which was for after the photo-shoot.

The owner of the Water Rock restaurant, Tom Cleere, kindly agreed to let us use the lovely grounds for the shoot. When I arrived I had no idea that my friend Tricia was on duty. As I came out of the kitchen she came out from the bar and stared straight at me and asked if she could help me. She didn’t recognise me for a few seconds until I indicated that it was me. She was completely shocked and delighted at the same time and after the photo shoot was finished I got her and Conny to get into some photos with me. It was a truly wonderful experience. We returned to the house and had a girlie night in devouring the cake and the champagne.

I also did interviews that year with the
Sunday Observer
,
BBC
Radio Scotland, Cork 103
FM
and
RTÉ
’
S
The Big Bite
. One aspect of disclosing my condition that made me very unhappy has been the way people automatically assume they could ask me questions about my sex life and my sexuality. Some have been quite crude, especially those men who would say things like, ‘Jaysus girl, you have great balls to do what you’re doing. I know I certainly couldn’t do it in a million years.’ To which I would immediately respond: ‘Not any more I don’t.’

People would ask me if I’m heterosexual, lesbian or bisexual. The simple truth is that I’m sexually ambiguous to asexual and have very little interest in that particular aspect of my life. There are far more important things for me to think about. It is a simple matter of fact that my sex drive is virtually non-existent at this point in time and will be for quite some time to come, with no guarantee that it will ever return.
I knew that this could happen once I started on my hormone treatment and happily accepted it as a price to be paid in order to achieve my lifetime’s dream of being a woman; of being Sara. And in all truthfulness it is quite a liberating experience, as it frees me to focus on more important issues, like raising awareness of this condition and the sorry state of things for those of us born with it, through no fault of our own.

I’ve also had my fair share of smirking, ridicule, speaking behind hands, nudges, name-calling, filthy remarks about me behind my back, people trying to avoid me and so on, but all they’ve done is reinforce the reality of who I truly
am
and my absolute determination to be true to myself and everyone else. I refuse to be put down by these people or allow them to frighten me into giving up. I am blessed with more than enough friends and supporters, who’ll make sure that I don’t ever go back to those dark days.

Life was going on throughout all these events and some lives were coming to an end. In May of that year Kathy’s sister Nell died from cancer. This was a life-changing experience for me as I was present when Nell passed away. Nell and her husband Tony had returned to Ireland to retire, having lived in England for many years. Nell had been taken into the Mercy Hospital for some tests and Tony came to stay with us for a few days, then Nell’s daughters came and, rather than have them separated in a strange city, myself and Kathy offered to put them up. They stayed with us for a few days and, during that time, they were told that Nell’s cancer had become terminal. It was arranged to have Nell return to England, where she would receive palliative care. All the arrangements were made and Nell was due to travel to England within the next few days and, despite the expected outcome, there was a sense
of relief that she would be amongst her loved ones during the last few weeks of her life, but regrettably that is not how things worked out.

On Sunday morning at around a quarter to five we received a phone call from the hospital asking us to go up as Nell had taken a turn for the worse and was not responding to treatment. We arrived around half-five and found numerous doctors and nurses trying to bring Nell’s blood pressure back up and for a while it looked as if they had succeeded. Unfortunately, though, there were other complications and her situation continued to deteriorate to the point where they gave up trying. To relieve her pain, Nell was allowed to control her own morphine drip.

Nell clearly knew that she was reaching the end of her time and so began to prepare herself to say goodbye to her family. Her deterioration was more noticeable by the minute and it could be seen in her demeanour that she was fully accepting of it. She took the rings off her fingers and placed them in a mahogany box, along with some other personal items, she then handed them to her husband who sat by her bed, trembling at the prospect of what was to come. The doctors came back to the ward and called Tony senior and junior to one side in order to explain what was happening and, rather than leave Nell on her own, I went over to her bedside and held her hand and stroked her hair with my other hand. Then her daughters in England were informed of what was happening so the phones were handed to Nell. The expressions of love and the sounds of good-bye through the phone lines where absolutely heart-wrenching. Nell was dying during these calls and another daughter was talking to Nell’s daughter-in-law in an adjoining room.

Within moments Nell began her slow graceful descent into her long sleep and as she did so, I went to tell her daughter-in-law:
‘it’s time’ I said, as she sat full of tears, trying to tell her sister-in-law who was so far away, that her mother was in the process of dying as they spoke. One can only imagine the scenes on the other end of the phone. We returned to the ward and sat and watched as Nell slowly, effortlessly and peacefully slipped away.

It is an extraordinary thing to think that I had only ever met Nell twice before, it was in her home in Listowel. Kathy had told Nell about my situation and Nell replied that she worked with people who were in the same situation and found them to be very nice people to work with. She then asked Kathy what she should call me the next time she met me. Her acceptance of me has always meant a great deal, and so I was delighted to offer some hospitality to her husband and children during their time of great distress and to be there with her and be a comfort to her in those final moments of her life. It was an immense privilege.

A few weeks later I was to learn that one of my favourite aunts had passed away. My aunt Carmel, whom I dearly loved, and who was only ever loving and kind to me, was gone. I received a phone call to tell me she had passed away and what the funeral arrangements were. The funeral Mass took place in the Church of the Assumption in Ballyfermot and she was buried later on in Palmerstown Cemetery. There was a reception afterwards in the
CIE
Social Club in Coldcut. I was asked to sing in her honour and so I sang two of her favourite songs, ‘The First of May’ and the ‘Fields of Athenry’, after which I asked everyone to raise their glasses in her honour. My uncle Tommy and cousin Anthony were very touched by this and came over and hugged me.

2004 was proving to be a remarkable year for me and I find it surprising after so many years of difficulty, just how much I achieved in that one year. Not only had I gone public through the newspapers and radio, there were still more momentous events waiting to occur. It seemed as if destiny had well and truly intervened in my life and taken me to places and events that I simply would never have imagined.

One of the most momentous events for me that year was the founding of the first support organisation in Ireland for people with gender identity disorder. I invited a number of people to my home with a view to setting up an organisation to be known as Transgender Equality Network Ireland. The name was originally created by Diane Hughes and Dr Nicholas Krievenko, who devised the name during their submissions on the Nexus Report, which had been commissioned by the Equality Authority. However, the original name they went under was Transsexual Equality Network Ireland. The purpose of the Nexus Report was to examine the then situation regarding access to healthcare services for people dealing with gender conflict and those who had been diagnosed with
GID
.