Becoming Myself: The True Story of Thomas Who Became Sara (25 page)

The inaugural meeting took place in July of 2004 and the first committee was established. I was appointed as
PRO
and later on as Co-Chair. My vision for this organisation was that it should be an all-inclusive organisation for people with
GID
and their families. Our primary aims were to be a voice for those suffering in isolation and raising awareness about the true nature of the condition and for the urgent need for an adequate healthcare service and for legal recognition for those who were going through Gender Reassignment. I cannot go into all the details here, but suffice it to say there was nothing like this before in Ireland. This was a landmark
achievement albeit with humble beginnings. From
TENI
, I founded
GIDI
, Gender Identity Disorder Ireland, which is doing extremely well in achieving my original vision for people with
GID
.

In my work with
TENI
and
GIDI
, a number of very significant and worthwhile projects on behalf of people with
GID
were initiated, including the first ever medical symposium on
GID
to be held in this country in collaboration with the Equality Authority, the
HSE
, the Department of Health and Children,
TENI
and
GIDI
; the introduction of an
ID
card system for those going through transition; meeting with representatives from the Garda training college in Templemore with a view to introducing a gender identity module into the curriculum, not to mention the many other projects on which I’m currently working.

After a while, I told my colleagues that I was finished with my involvement in
GID
matters for the moment, as I just wanted to get on with my life and focus on my genital realignment surgery, which will take place in Charing Cross Hospital some time in 2008–9, and on getting my business back on track so I could earn a decent living. But they asked me to a person to stay on and continue the work I’d started; that they felt I was the best person for the job and for driving things forward, and that they would support me if I decided to continue my work under another name. Ultimately, I made my decision to continue my work in
GIDI
.

I have disassociated myself from
TENI
, as I felt that organisation’s decision to include all manner of fetish lifestyles which had absolutely nothing to do with Gender Identity Disorder was misleading. I feel that they are confusing the issue by using terminology that is outdated and no longer recognised as appropriate or helpful, and on using terms
‘transsexual’ and ‘transgender’ only serves to perpetuate misunderstanding and prejudice.

I have never made any secret of my dislike and opposition to the continued use of the terminology and therefore have completely disassociated myself and
GIDI
from its use, except only to clarify the difference between it and the medical terms gender identity disorder and gender dysphoria. This is a battle still to be won, but like all the battles I’ve ever fought, I’ll stick at it until I win the day not just for myself, but for all those coming after me. If that can be my legacy having gone through this journey, the greater acceptance by society of those born with this condition, then it will have all been worthwhile. All of this has caused me to postpone the completion of my own transition, but it is time, now, to take care of it and bring it to completion, while not forgetting the purpose for which I fight.

The next momentous event of this year was an interview for the British
Observer on Sunday
, during the
US
presidential campaign — we actually came before George Bush and John Kerry, which was quite bizarre. It was Friday 15 October when Nicholas Krievenko and I met the journalists and photographer in the Front Lounge on Parliament Street in Dublin. It was only my second time out in public and I was genuinely a complete bag of nerves. They were amazed to hear it and told me I looked fabulous; every compliment gratefully received. We had lunch and as I was not driving I had a couple of glasses of wine, which was just what I needed to relax, and believe me it was welcome.

While we were being interviewed the photographer came along and said she needed to take the photographs quickly as she had to be somewhere else. We got up to go with her thinking that she would take them there and then, but as luck
would have it, she wanted to take the photos on the Millennium Bridge, down by the Liffey. ‘For fuck’s sake,’ I muttered under my breath. I was mad, because I was so uncomfortable with the idea of having to walk down to the bridge then stand there posing, knowing that hundreds of people would be passing by and in their curiosity stare at us. I mean, this really was only my second time out! But I decided to just grin and bear it as best I could, get it over and done with and get back to a much-needed glass of wine, or two.

As we stood on the bridge the photographer had us pose in different positions. I was beginning to feel like a shagging model and, as expected, people did stare at us. To make matters worse, there was a strong wind blowing down the Liffey and I was terrified that my wig might fly off into the waters below; so I had to hold onto it, but in such a way that it looked like I was giving a girlie curl with my fingers. We eventually finished taking the photos on the bridge and much to my chagrin she wanted to take more, only this time along the streets in Temple Bar. She had us walk up and down the street and engage in conversation, as if we were oblivious to the camera and the people looking on; fat chance of that. I just decided that if we were going to be doing this in front of all these onlookers then we might as well have some fun and so I started telling Nick some funny stories which led to us both having a good laugh and that’s the picture that ended up in the paper that Sunday.

Later that same evening Nick took me to a sushi bar. It was my first time to go to one and I have to say that the food was only delicious. When we left and made our way to get a taxi, I was approached by a man who asked me if I’d like to go for a drink with him. Of course I declined, but I was chuffed silly.

The next day we attended a conference of the Law Society, to review the first year of the enactment of the Human Rights Act. It was a who’s who of the legal profession from Ireland, Northern Ireland and England. Nick wanted us to go up the auditorium and sit somewhere in the middle, but I was having none of it as I would need to go to the toilet quite a bit. He very graciously acceded to my request and so we sat at the back of the auditorium throughout the entire day. There were several hundred people there that day and I surprised myself with how easily I settled into the occasion. I felt I was amongst friends. Some of the speakers included the Lord Chief Justice of Northern Ireland, Baroness Kennedy from the
UK
and our own William Binchy amongst others; some of whom had been sitting alongside me during the course of the day and with whom I shared some humorous exchanges.

When we returned to our seats after lunch who should we run into but David Norris. Nick introduced us to each other. It was a very nice moment. I would meet David again at the launch in Outhouse of the confidential Garda advice service for the gay and lesbian community. David was one of the special guests and I was sitting in the audience. I went up to him to say hello and said, ‘You might not remember me as it’s about two years ago now…’ With that, he said, ‘Of course I remember you my dear, and isn’t it very pretty you are looking too.’ That man really does know how to charm a lady!

I returned to Cork on the Sunday evening, elated with my sense of achievement. To sit amongst that many people was just incredible and it emboldened me to do something else that I had been dreading; go down the town and buy myself a bottle of wine. I went down to O’Donovan’s off-licence and as I went to pay for the wine, who should be serving me but Warren, the son of one of my friends, Roisín. He asked me
how I was and what I’d done for the weekend, so I told him about the conference and the newspaper interview. As the conversation went on I was wondering if he recognised me, so I came out and asked him, ‘Do you know who I am?’

He responded: ‘Yes, of course, you’re Sara. Can I say something and I hope you won’t be offended?’

I told him to go ahead and say what he wanted to say and he did: ‘I was just thinking that you make a very pretty woman and you look a lot better now than when you were a man.’ I was so delighted with what he said and went red with embarrassment. I then went home and put my feet up and reflected over my glass of wine about all the momentous events that had taken place over that weekend.

Part of my job as
PRO
of
TENI
as I was then, was to seek opportunities for raising awareness about
GID
. With that in mind, I made contact with the
Big Bite
show, by e-mail. I wrote to them asking if they would consider doing a segment on
GID
and the plight of people with the condition living in Ireland. I received a very quick response from Zoe Liston, who said they would love to do a segment and asked if I could forward more details. My original thinking was that there were enough people to go and do the interview and that I would not need to go myself, but I would still have been doing my job by setting it up. I sent Zoe details of the people she could contact and invite onto the programme. But to my surprise, Zoe came back to me and said they really wanted to do my story as I was the one who contacted them in the first instance. She also asked me if I could get others to go along and be interviewed. I asked Lynda Sheridan, a colleague in
TENI
, who in turn asked her daughter Aisling, and I asked Nick Krievenko as he was a female to male. They all agreed as did my clinical psychologist, Dr James Kelly.

When I arrived at the studio I was greeted by Zoe and brought up to the hospitality suite. I was the last to arrive and when I did I found Nick and Dr Kelly discussing how they thought the issues should be addressed and who should answer what questions and in what order. But when they tried to share their ideas with Zoe she stated that the format of the questions was already decided and that I was to be asked the first few questions as I was the one who contacted the show. I felt strange about this as I was more than happy to defer to my colleagues. In fact, when we were brought into the studio I deliberately walked behind everyone in order to allow them to pick their seats, knowing that some would want to sit alongside David McWilliams. But as we approached the seating area we were placed in our preassigned seats; mine was beside David on his right, while Lynda was placed on his left side. The interview lasted about half an hour and it went very well.

When we’d finished I was approached by a number of the production staff who shook my hand and told me they really enjoyed the show and felt it was one of the best they had ever done. As I was leaving the studio I was approached by the producer, who thanked me for contacting the show. She said they felt honoured and privileged that I had trusted them with my story and that she hoped they’d done it justice. I assured them that they had. David McWilliams must have said goodbye to me about five times that day. Just as I was leaving, Zoe approached me to tell me the whole team were delighted with us and that I should contact them if there were any further developments. I mentioned in passing that I was thinking of writing my autobiography and a book on the subject of
GID
. She was very interested and asked if I had anyone to publish it. I told her I hadn’t and wouldn’t know
where to start. She gave me the name of a publicist and told me that I was to mention her name when speaking to him.

I cannot commend the production team at the
Big Bite
enough for the courtesy and consideration with which they treated me and the encouragement this gave me to keep going. I had started this year and our new organisation without the slightest idea where it would take me. Nothing could have prepared me for the journey; even now I look back in wonder at what I’ve achieved. It was these achievements and the loving support of my friends that made me realise that I was reaching the point of no return.

D
espite all the positive things that have occurred in my life since I went public about my gender identity disorder, there have also been many downs, some so great that they could easily have overwhelmed me to the point where I could have gone backwards into my old life, regardless of how awful that life was. I had to find a way of coping with my setbacks, discouragements and stresses in order to find the motivation and courage to keep going towards my ultimate goal: of having my body aligned to my internal gender identity. So I chose to make my suicide attempts my companions for the remainder of my journey. They are my constant reminder of how bad things used to be and of how far I have come and how much I’ve achieved since my last suicide attempt nearly seven years ago. Yes, it’s been hard, bloody hard, but I did it and for the most part on
my own, because that is ultimately how it had to be. But to move towards my full gender reassignment surgery I still had a number of steps to take. One of these was to change my legal identity, my name. Only then could I truly say I am Sara Cromwell and only then could I ever have the hope of finally living my life as ordinarily as everyone else.

I gave the go-ahead to my solicitors to take care of my deed poll in March of 2006. It should only have taken about two weeks to complete it and have it sworn in the High Court, but it took three months before I could finally and legally call myself Sara Cromwell. I finally managed to collect it a week before I was due in court for my nullity hearing. It was a momentous day for me as it was the most tangible affirmation of my commitment to see my transition through to the end. The next thing to do was change all my documents, legal and academic. This was a long and tedious process and is still ongoing. I’ve changed my driving licence, passport, car registration, motor tax, motor insurance, life assurance, pension, credit union, credit cards, bank accounts, medical records,
PPS
details, Revenue details,
DPS
card, accreditations, business stationary etc.; in other words, everything that had my old name on it. And it had its problems. Due to the delays in receiving my car registration and car insurance my motor tax ran out and I ended up being fined for non-display of a tax disc!