Monday, July 30, 2018

Dear Youngest Daughter


When we transition, so many #girlslikeus can lose family.  The reasons are not always straightforward.  Family might do their best to stand by us.  My family did.  My youngest daughter most of all.

Transition, like teenage can be a very selfish time in our lives. Hormones are raging, we are growing and developing.  We are often catapulted into a world of love and sex unprepared for the way it will affect us and how it will change our lives.

Those of you who have also been single parents will know how difficult it is too to start dating someone.  All the time you are haunted by a fear of what a new relationship might do to strong bonds and family relationships.  You find new love with joy but also that fear in the back of your mind.

Only later, when perhaps it is too late, do we take stock and realise that maybe we could have managed things differently.

I'm posting this letter to my youngest here in the hope she might somehow see it.  I have no address or phone number, so here's hoping dear daughter, that one day, you will read this and know I'm sorry.

Dear Youngest Daughter,

How are you. I hope that you and your love are well.  I’m writing a short letter in an attempt to build bridges and to say sorry for letting you down. I really mean that.

Four years ago, you too wrote a blog for your friend who you felt you had hurt.  It was a brave attempt at an apology and one of the most sincere things I've ever read.  You wrote from the heart. That is what I'm doing now too.

In your own blog, you wrote prophetically:
"And by the way to eny won out ther who dose have a best friend/love one/family memberDon't take them fore granted.appreciate every thing they do and make shore they no it. Be mindful full of how they feel and never let your insecurities get the best of you it a think can brake friendship if your not careful."
Here is my public apology to you. I am so very sorry. I too was insecure. I needed a man's love in my life but I let the pursuit of that love come between you and me.  That should never have been the case.

So much in my life has changed in the last 2 years.  It’s helped me realise how isolated you must have felt in Llandudno and how badly I let you down. Looking back, I know now that I failed to support you.  It’s not easy for me to write and admit that but I need to say it. I’m not giving excuses: I don’t have any  Beth.  I take full responsibility for what I did and quite understand if you feel angry with me. You have every right to be.  I can’t change that but I can at least say sorry and mean it.

More than any other person (and that includes my husband), you helped me through the very worst of times. You supported me and were my friend when I had no other friends at all.  That must have been tough, not something a daughter should have to do but you did it.  I’m so thankful. You, more than anybody, know how difficult my life has been. You were the best.  You listened with a kindness and wisdom beyond your years.  I will always say that kindness, compassion, the ability to listen and empathise seem to come naturally to you. They do it in a way that is seldom true for others.  As a counsellor I know that. You have a rare and precious gift, don’t lose it.  It helps so much in relationships.

You had nobody apart from your wonderful Grandpa, your Mum, Lucy and also me.  When Grandpa died and you hit so many bumps in the road, you had a right to rely on both me and Pauline to support you and see you through.  Though you still had your Mum, I realise that I personally failed you totally at that point.  You had a right to expect support and help from me too. Instead, I fell so deeply in love with someone that he became my whole world. He still is, that’s why we married. But I should never have allowed that to shut you out.  You deserved better from me, way better.  You had a right to feel included and I should have made clear to my him from the very start that we were a family. In a family, no one should get left behind. During those times in Llandudno, you must have cried so very much, felt so hurt at my unkindness and felt incredibly alone.  I am so sorry for what I did and how I wasn't there for you. My partner has deep regrets too but that would be for him to explain if you ever feel able to talk to him.

Meeting your wonderfully supportive partner and girlfriend was good for you; the best thing, and I’m glad that you both did.  It came at the right time when you needed someone. I realise a little of what your love for each other means and how close you both are.  I’m glad, so glad for both of you. Always remember that love is simply love. Those who make out differences between same sex and heterosexual relationships, miss that point. One day it will not be important any more.

People were unbelievably horrid to me in Llandudno before I left, particularly at work.  There was no excuse for their hate and transphobia but it made my life intolerable. I had few friends willing to stick up for me. Llandudno is still full of frightening and unpleasant memories.  I had to get away.  You will recognise the feeling more than anyone. You probably know now that I run a small coffee business here and love it. You will find us at most of the Prides here this summer. There have been lots of good times including making coffee for the mayor of Manchester. I’ve found new Gay, Trans and Lesbian friends that I’ve become really fond of.

Most of all though, I’m happy where I live in now Manchester. It is a place where I’m accepted and it’s changed me a good deal as a person.  I hope in a much better way.  People say that I’m happy, less uptight and relax, more zen.  In New Islington I live in a very accepting community where I’ve come to realise that friendship and genuineness are more important than other things. 

People who’ve known me a long time have said kindly that I’m more like the person they used to know (but very much a woman). I guess this is another thing prompting me to write this letter.

If you ever want to write you can email me on here. My phone number remains the same.  I’m seldom on Facebook now, I do Instagram here: https://www.instagram.com/retroba57girl/. I’m also on WhatsApp.  If you want to follow my life on there, feel free.

Please however don’t feel any need to reply to this.  You too have made a fresh start somewhere new.  That’s enough. Good for you.  You deserve good times and I hope that you’ve found them.  I run a business however, I have contacts in Manchester. If there is anything I can do to help, please ask.  If the two of you fancy a visit to the Cat Cafe and you want a lift over I’d be more than happy to treat you and give you a lift.



I’ve put pics of my new kitten on here. It took me a long while to get over losing Star.  I know we both still miss him but I couldn't be without a cat, I always had them when I was little and Star left a big gap in my life. In June last year, a friend asked me if I would re-home one of her cat’s kittens.  He came with a name, Binx, (you know like Thackeray Binx in Hocus Pocus).  His Mum is a little cat called Tico. I’m posting some photos of him so you can see what he is like. Binx has such soft fur.  He was born on April 19th last year; your Grandpa’s birthday so he’s really special to me.  He is so affectionate, much more so than any other cat I’ve ever known. He sleeps on my bed at night and wakes me up so very very gently by pawing at me about 6.30am. If you ever visit, you can come and see him.




As well as my pop-up coffee stall, I am also a volunteer counsellor within the LGBT community here in Manchester.  So many people have helped me start a new life that I wanted to give something back by using my training and qualifications.  I work with people who are HIV+, helping them to adjust to their diagnosis and to cope with stigmatisation.

Where I live in New Islington, there are a high proportion of LGBT people, generally the less well off ones.  Most of us live here because it is one of the most affordable places to live.  It is also a community who stick together and always help each other.  They are my Urban Family. I don’t think I’ve ever had such lovely neighbours or done so much for other people my whole life.  It’s a world away from narrow minded Llandudno and Colwyn Bay.

I hope that one day you will read this dear daughter and know that I never intentionally set out to make you feel lonely and shut out.  We all need family. We all need friends. You will always be friend and my family both in my thoughts and heart,

Lots of love,

Jane xx







Thursday, July 5, 2018

Processions 2018 - Why Trans Sisters Need to March Alongside Their Sisters

My Partner and I at Processions 2018 - Credit: Tina Williams

I am my grandmother’s granddaughter. She fought for my right to vote and I wanted to honour that. On June the 10th this year my partner and I (pictured above) travelled to London to participate in Processions with thousands of other women. We were paying homage to the women of suffrage but also making our voices heard about current issues. I was nervous: Both myself and my partner Tina are Trans. We marched with friends from Sparkle; the National Transgender Charity. I’m a transexual woman, my partner is bi-gender. we were aware that the debate about trans women in women only spaces is highly charged. Might some deny our right to be considered women and to participate in such an event?

In the end we had a lovely day.  We were fortunate to walk alongside other women who praised our involvement and welcomed us.  We felt included and accepted. I know that I did my grandmother proud yet I’m concerned that we have still so much to fight for. For trans women, equality is not just a fight to end the gender pay gap, oppression in the workplace, sexual objectification and unequal rights. As a lifelong feminist, I care deeply about those things. Trans women like myself however are now forced to defend our right to be considered women. 

Both my partner and I are no strangers to the visual disapproval and comments of others women as we seek to do everyday things like using the loo, try on clothes, or hold hands in public. In North Wales, while working as a teaching assistant, female colleagues made complaints to management, forbidding me from using female toilets and changing rooms. Earlier, as a single Mum taking my 11 year old daughter to A&E, I was repeatedly questioned by a staff nurse about my right to be identified as her parent and go with her into the examination room.  A later FOI request revealed she had reported concerns to Social Workers about a child accompanied by ‘a man dressed as a woman’. At work I was called ‘a freak’ and ‘an offence against nature’. My locker was defaced with sentiments suggesting I should die. Last year, on our way to a Pride event, a van was driven at my partner and I, forcing us to scatter while the driver hurled abuse from his window.

I understand that behind all of this lies fear, fear of men masquerading as women to prey on women and girls; fears about personal safety and the safety of children. I can empathise with that fear but it is nonetheless completely irrational.

There is no credible evidence to support the idea that trans women pose a threat to their cisgender counterparts. Women like my partner and I have been using women’s facilities for many years. We get changed, pee, touch up our make up and go about our business. To focus on supposed threats to safety emphasises differences rather than similarities and ignores a commonality of experience that all women, trans and cis, share together.

I’m fortunate and honoured to share that experience. Trans women worry about ‘passing’; the privilege of being accepted without question as woman. Friends tell me I pass well.  ‘I wouldn’t have known’ is the response if I choose to out myself.  It is a dubious privilege. I get wolf-whistled and cat called, chatted up, kissed by strangers and propositioned. I’ve been mansplained at and condescended to. I have lower pay than my male colleagues and I have to queue for the loo. 

Processions 2018 was a hot day, I kept well hydrated and drank lots of water. It was a mistake. With thousands of women wanting to pee on route, both myself and others were soon frustrated to discover many premises had closed their toilets. I know that feeling too well. That day, both trans and natal women felt the same.  We learned that using the loos and freshening up isn’t a threat to anyone, no matter how you identify.  It is about basic need, comfort and safety. Being excluded just makes you feel desperate leaves you in pain.

My grandmother, Jenny Spencer, chained herself to railings in Dewsbury to win me the political franchise. I  intend to use tha rights to win equality for all women, not just a few. So please let’s sink our differences. Let’s talk to each other rationally and fight for the things that matter; ones that affect us all.


Huggs, Jane xx

Saturday, June 16, 2018

Why Rainbow Coffee Cups Might Not Be So LGBT Supportive As You Think

Source: Whitbread Plc 2018

Here in the UK COSTA are celebrating Pride in some locations this year with a new line of rainbow coffee cups. So supportive of LGBTQ Rights, right? 

Err not exactly. As it happens, COSTA recently rolled out its stores in some of the most oppressive regimes in the world. In some of these countries you will receive the death penalty for being Gay...goodness knows what would happen if you were a Trans barista like me.
Source: Whitbread Plc 2018

Source: www.independent.co.uk
Why am I interested? Well I happen to be a Trans Woman and also the founder of a mobile coffee business. I run a business that routinely gives up to a third of its profits to LGBT causes and always buys fair-trade. I run a pink business and am proud to be serving coffee at most of Greater Manchester's Prides this year.
Photo credit: Martin Williams
So, this Pride, BEFORE you walk out of COSTA bearing one of their delightfully attractive rainbow cups, think again. 

Support Pink businesses that really care about your community rather than using the rainbow as a cynical marketing ploy.

Huggs, Jane xx

Saturday, May 19, 2018

Celebrating Shavuot as a Trans Woman

Ruth and Naomi (Buehring)
In the UK it is Saturday and a long awaited special event. Two people declare their love for each other and marry. At sundown today some of us will also begin to celebrate Shavuot; the feast of weeks.

Shavuot is one of the most significant of Jewish festivals. It celebrates the gift of the Torah to all Jewish people on Mount Sinai 3,000 years ago. It is also associated with acceptance of marginalised people through it’s association with Ruth and her story.

Ruth was a pagan woman, daughter in law to Naomi. She was an outsider from the Moabite nation.  But Naomi lost both her husband and her two sons. Ruth lost her husband.  In a time when widows starved and died with no man to support them, Ruth demonstrated enduring love and commitment to Naomi, refusing to leave her side:

“Don’t ask me to leave you! Let me go with you. Wherever you go, I will go; wherever you live, I will live. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God. Wherever you die, I will die, and that is where I will be buried. May the Lord’s worst punishment come upon me if I let anything but death separate me from you!”.

Ruth’s heartfelt vow to Naomi was a commitment of true love.  She returned at Naomi’s side to Bethlehem and was accepted as Jewish. These words are frequently used as a vow in heterosexual marriage ceremony yet they were shared between one woman and another.


Make up your own mind on this one.  The same word is used in Hebrew to describe the love between Adam and Eve as between Ruth and Naomi. Was this a devoted mother daughter relationship, a lesbian one or simply two incredibly loyal and devoted women, does it even matter?

The message of Shavuot has always been one of love, transition and acceptance of outcasts. I am a trans woman born of a mixed faith marriage. Trans women are outcasts.  We’re continually reminded that we are not worthy to be called women and can never be women. If we love a man some contest whether we should be allowed to marry as a woman and become a wife.  If we become mothers there will be those who invalidate our right to be considered good parents. Can we not just love accept instead of throwing up barriers and reasons not to?

At Shavuot we celebrate an outsider’s acceptance into the Jewish faith in spite of laws to the contrary, we remember the devotion two women felt for each other and we give thanks for an event which transitioned the Hebrews into the Jewish People. 

You do not have to be religious to understand and appreciate the significance of this day. Love is love, acceptance is acceptance, no matter what faith or language is involved. Trans women are women, worthy to love men or other women as they wish.  Worthy to choose a faith or not to, to be called Jewish, Muslim or Christian.

Chad Shavuot Sameach, 

Huggs,

Jane xx


Friday, March 30, 2018

This Year We Need Transgender Visibility More Than Ever


Trans Invisibility allows others to pretend there is bland homogeneity and that diversity in sex or gender is deviance.

Saturday March 31st marks Transgender Day of Visibility (TDOV). TDOV aims to promote acceptance of trans people, safeguarding their rights and combating hatred. Hatred relies on stereotyping groups of people and on self-limiting mindsets. Too often these are fuelled by a press whose prevalent view of a trans person is ‘a man in a dress’. The person inside is cruelly willed into forced invisibility.

I grew up with a secret, imaginary group of playmates. So many kids have imaginary friends. They provide a platform for rehearsing and exploring experiences outside the child’s own. Lonely children find a companion that comforts them whether it be a friend or an animal. It’s all in your head. When you’re a trans child, you tend live in your head continually. The life you lead bears no resemblance to the one you need in order to help you thrive. Little girls crave other girls to play with, I did too. Until I went to school it was J, the girl across the road. When I started school, that had to change. Boys are supposed to play ball with other boys, not skipping with girls. J and I didn’t play together after that. I made friends with A, another lonely soul in the playground but her family moved away. Then I too became a loner, living inside my head with J & A, as my imaginary playmates. Teachers told my mum, with concern, that I was withdrawn and unsociable. Unknown to them, my imaginary life, though invisible to others, sustained me and held me up. Looking back, the imaginary experiences are the ones I cherish most. They helped me keep the faith in who I was.
Growing up I longed to be an ordinary girl like everyone else, blend in and be unexceptional. I was the boy who wanted to grow up and be a mum and a wife, not a dad or a husband. I viewed the bullying and hatred I received as my fault. Becoming invisible seemed the way forward.

Even though I craved it so strongly as a child, I see now what a dangerous place it is. You are benignly invisible if you stick to the rules. As an adult living in a conservative rural area, I rapidly discovered those rules were very restrictive indeed. Step outside them, dare to be visible and you are a target. Worse of all if others discover your secret they can threaten to out you. ‘Outing’ is forced visibility; their choice not yours. Invisibility becomes a trap not a refuge.

Being invisible with gender identity issues involves hiding your true self. When we hide we get smaller, shrink into ourselves and lose confidence. It is a dismal place to be. More importantly, invisibility breeds ignorance in others. Trans invisibility allows others to pretend there is bland homogeneity and that diversity in sex or gender is deviance. It also prevents others seeing they are not alone. Growing up a trans child, I wish there had been visible role models to give me hope for the future. I had none and the loneliness quite literally nearly killed me when I tried to take my own life.

Ironically, more often than not I seem to be invisible these days. I pass well. Others are doubting or incredulous if I ‘out’ myself. I’m invisible in plain sight, a business woman working alongside her husband. I’m simply a woman. Others are not so fortunate and stand out. At times I’ve felt almost guilty. Passing well is the dream of most Trans people, yet achieving it makes you invisible again. Invariably, I end up being deliberately open about my gender history. In doing so I hope to challenge attitudes. ‘You didn’t know I was trans before I told you. Will you really treat me differently now you know?’

Treating us differently is all too likely. Only a few days ago, The Sun covered the wedding of a young couple, both with trans histories. The front page story ran with the hateful and sensational headline: ‘Tran and Wife’. A happy, smiling wedding photo was accompanied by shots of them both before transition. It typifies the attitude of many that being trans is a joke to be laughed at. Having your ‘big day’ ridiculed isn’t how most of us start married life. Trans visibility is tough.

Today, visibility for gender identity is more needed than ever, it needs to be encouraged not ridiculed. Please give trans role models a chance.

Happy TDOV, 

Huggs, Jane xx





Saturday, March 17, 2018

Excluding Trans Women From Women Only Spaces Is Not Feminism!



The current TERF wars and the animosity between Exclusionary Radical Feminism and Transgender Women seeks to polarise public opinion against Trans people generally. The UK's Sunday Times and Daily Mail have run a number of hateful articles which have only served to fuel this debate further.  Outspoken Feminists like Greer, Venice Allan and Sheila Jefferies have endeavoured to given further momentum to this debate, speaking at a number of meetings throughout the UK.  I know that many of my feminist sisters from the heady days of 2nd wave feminism have fallen for this rhetoric.  The arguments are seemingly very persuasive. There is now a new generation of younger 2nd wave feminists rallying to this call for the preservation of 'sex based rights'.

At the heart of this campaign is the whole debate about women's only spaces and whether Trans Women are men or women. It saddens me more and more, yet it scares me too. As a child my Feminist Mum raised me to believe that I could be whatever I wanted to be, regardless of gender.  I studied hard and got better qualifications than my male counterparts. I also wanted a family and I took a number of years out to raise and care for my two kids.  As a consequence, I'm now seriously disadvantaged in terms of employment.  A single parent, I spent 8 years holding down a low paid job I could have done with half my qualifications. I didn't complain, Men scare me at times: As I child I was seriously abused by one. One of my previous boyfriends, a man I thought loved me, subjected me to serious emotional and domestic abuse. I needed and got help thank goodness.  I therefore value women's only spaces and the support of my sisters. At times, they are the only spaces I have felt safe and secure. I have to admit that I too am unsure and unclear about what the proposed changes to the GRA will mean.  I know however that I would be very unhappy to deny anyone who is clearly a woman access to women's only spaces, no matter how and where they started their lives.

As it happens, although my corrected birth certificate now declares me to have been born a girl, I have a Trans history. Having Gender Dysphoria put me through the worst of times which are now thankfully behind me. One thing I am certainly NOT however, is a man. If we exclude (Trans) people from women's only spaces, we EXCLUDE women.  As a girl, feminism taught me that I have the right to determine my own destiny. Now a small group of my sisters seek to deny me that right. Why?

Excluding Trans Women from women's only spaces is not Feminism.  Feminism is neither elitist or exclusionary.  Once we start to pick and choose which women are deserving of protection and which women are not we are operating Apartheid.  

HUGGS, Jane xx

Saturday, March 10, 2018

Motherhood, Infertility And Being a Woman


Growing up, motherhood was something I could only dream of.  Idealised girlhood fantasies of a handsome husband, a beautiful house and a brood of adorable children dominated my later childhood.  Advertising bombards us with stereotypes and the image of a table full of hungry children (plus husband) eating cereal or a mother's lovingly cooked meals is very pervasive. I was a lonely, only child who dreamed of having siblings to play with. I envied other children who belonged to larger families.  I now have an adoptive sister, but that's another story.  What is important here however is why you should never give up on your dreams and wishes. Living to be a mother when you are a Trans teen girl seems about as probable as flying to the moon.  Still, every Nativity and Mother's Day reminds you of how we celebrate Mums and how you'll never be one of them.

Motherhood can be tougher than you think. Trans Motherhood can be just as tough. I was diagnosed with Gender Identity Disorder; these days seen as simply Gender Dysphoria.  To grow up a woman I knew that I needed Gender Confirmation Surgery: Living my life in pieces with body parts that didn't belong just wasn't an option: It depressed me so much. I had already attempted to end my life. Aged 20 I entered what was to become a lesbian relationship and marriage.  I'm not proud of what I did, I did it in a vain attempt to conform and have a family to belong to.  A young infant (kindergarten) teacher, my school family of 25 children wasn't enough. My partner and I tried for a baby and failed. I realise now that our apparent infertility was due in large part to my Trans identity. For both of us, infertility was an enormous sorrow that dominated our lives and we sought medical help. When we did conceive it was a huge relief. Our two lovely children were precious miracles that neither of us had dreamed could happen. Essentially two Mums, at first we shared their care. Later I became a stay at home Mum when it made economic sense. When our marriage was later annulled (same sex marriage was then illegal in the UK) our children picked sides.  My youngest chose to live with me and my eldest with my ex.

Things could have gone terminally sour and bitter.  Our children, very much sibling rivals, spent little time together. As parents though we strove hard to redefine a relationship that stretched back to our own childhoods. As a result we each gained a new sister and I consider myself blessed to count her as a sibling. As we worked to redefine our sense of family, we both became single working mothers.  I found how quickly, how tough being a Trans single Mum was. My dyspraxic and accident prone daughter needed constant care and I found myself attending the local hospital emergency department frequently.  On two occasions, nursing staff reported me to Social Workers saying that my child had been injured and was accompanied by a man dressed as a woman.  According to their notes, this same man claimed to be her mother. I learned the hard way that society can be very hard on you and your child.  We ran the gauntlet at the local school, putting up with stares, name calling and stigmatisation. A fully qualified teacher, I took the only job I could get in a hurry; a low paid teaching assistant. Through it all my lovely daughter took my part, enduring the over curious questions from school companions.  We both chose our friends carefully.  I had little money and what I had I went on keeping a roof over our heads and bringing her up well. I had the constant support and help of my new sister and without her I would have been lost and lonely. Family had become very precious, but not the stereotypical TV one. On Mother's Day I got used to being rewarded with presents, cards and flowers by my daughter and it made me cry with emotion. It still makes me cry.

A single Mum, I was always frightened about dating. Mother and daughter can become a self sufficient unit and I was afraid of what a new partner might do to our little family. I didn't look for love until my daughter was in her High School senior year.  She was looking for love at the same time and there were laughable moments when we realised that our experiences ran so parallel.  She is now happy with her lovely and supportive girlfriend and if you follow this blog, you'll know that I myself met and married the man of my dreams.



They say that GCS leaves you feeling that you've been hit by a truck. It wasn't so for me. I healed quickly and easily but later when I married, nothing prepared me for the onrush of maternal feelings that hit me like an express train. Setting up home with the husband I had longed for, I desperately felt the need to plan and start a new family. Like the ghost of a menstrual cycle my hormones give me, those unbidden urges really hurt. The cramps and the mood swings remind me I'm a woman but I also know that I'm infertile too.  No amount of babymaking, wishing, wanting and longing will bring us a new family. I have no regrets but infertility is a constant sorrow for women with a Trans history. I still cry about my unborn children, the names they would have borne and the joy they would have brought in making my husband a father. I know he would be the most amazing Dad.  Indeed it was feeling secure in marriage and able to trust my loving husband that made me want a family again.

Women like Venice Allan and Germaine Greer would dismiss me as delusional and class my marriage as a Gay relationship. The woman you see above would be considered 'a man in a dress'. In the photo above the strap had fallen down briefly on my dress but I didn't care.  I feel much the same about Greer and Allan's pronouncements on Trans women. A woman whose birth certificate says 'Girl', I have campaigned my whole life for women's rights. I grew up idolising the heroes of Second Wave feminism. I came to realise that my activism was wider than that.  As feminists our struggle is intersectional.  I have no idea how it feels to grow up a black African woman but I respect and uphold her right to equality and self determination. By the same token I know that my sisters respect and uphold my rights too. That a few hateful individuals refuse to accept that intersectional truth is beyond me. One thing I do know is that I am not a man. I do not need TERF permission or approbation to call myself a wife, mother and a woman, I simply am one.

HUGGS, Jane xx