Übergangsmoment

We were at the railway station in Frankfurt, on our way to visit friends of my mother, in Heidelberg. We were standing in the queue at the ticket counter, and I needed to pee.

At twelve years of age, hormonal changes were beginning. I was aware of my body, in a certain way, for the first time, and it was confusing. Though assigned male, I had lived much of my childhood in a kind of ambiguously-female role and appearance, slipping under the gender radar, seen by myself and others as a girl. Even my hormones were confused: I had developed breast-buds and was ‘showing’. Even small breasts could be awkward, and I was inclined to wear bulky pullovers.*

What had been simple was becoming more complicated.

At the toilets, I had to make the choice. After years of girlhood, my mother had been urging, with increasing concern, that I should stop using the women’s. Swallowing hard, I reached for a door.

I was grabbed by the arm and yanked back, hard. A guard in a frightening uniform had hold of me.

‘Das ist für Herren!’

I was thrust toward the other door. I wanted to protest, and I didn’t. I was confused and embarrassed and outraged and affirmed and relieved. I was mute.

I would be mute for a long time.

* Precocious gynaecomastia; the usually temporary development of breast buds and sometimes breast tissue in pubescent boys. http://pedsinreview.aappublications.org/content/28/9/e57

This aspect of my girlhood is covered in more detail in part II of my Girl series.

This is #4 in the Transitional Moments series.
#1: Livename,#3: Another Transitional Moment, #5: Clocked (in the best possible way)

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