'C' is for Crime

CW: Suicide mentions

Just realised that I didn't set the playlist for the last post - this time it's easy... The beautiful and fabulous Sade with 'Is it a crime'

Now - you may be somewhat taken aback by this header, or think I'm indulging in clickbait or about to reveal something horrendous and amoral. (Spoiler: I'm not) But I'm going to talk about acceptance of trans people in society and why the lack thereof, particularly when backed up with criminal sanctions, heaps shame, guilt and self loathing on people struggling to affirm their gender identities.

I joined the army at 17.5 - I won't go into the details of my service - as it's not massively relevant, needless to say that I didn't get to any of the locations showcased in the recruiting video; but I did get to Sandhurst to be commissioned.

I joined the army in part to try and be more of a boy, and also because I liked my time in the cadets on exercise. Originally I wanted to be a pilot, but my amazonian height scuppered the plan - so the army it was. This was the late 90s - a time at which the debate about 'gays in the military' was a hot topic - hot enough that one of my cohort at the Regular Commissions Board had to opine on it for 5 minutes to the group (he was anti).

Gay (and by extension Trans) people were not overtly welcomed at that time - it was seen as a source of damage to morale and a security risk through blackmail (and we all know what cures that) - I'd resolved to put Emily in my locker and throw the key away - and for the first term I did pretty well - largely through being exhausted and ragged from being broken down by the DS. I did like the gender neutral working dress (combats) that we wore and as we didn't have any sort of dress uniform at that point, there was no difference between me and the women in my company. All this changed in my second term, where we got our 'blues' - the well known dress uniform you saw Prince Harry graduating in. The female uniform consisted of a skirt, different tunic and cap - and *bang* Emily was back, and jealous.

I was enough of a barrack room lawyer to know that any attempt to indulge my sense of not belonging would have very negative repercussions. People who say 'Homosexuality was decriminalised in 1967' don't include the armed forces in that. The Army Act 1955 was the legislation governing the conduct of servicemen and women in the Army - and sections 66 and 69 were flung about with 'gay abandon' to discipline, eject and humiliate many effective soldiers until 2000. I knew that my offer to iron my colleagues' uniforms on a rota basis would be appreciated - I also knew that one of my female colleagues skirt would fit me....

So I committed a criminal offence. I wore the skirt while ironing in my room in the old college. Again, nothing sexy about it - just a short period of normality for me imagining myself on sovereign's parade as Emily, proud to serve, proud to be me.

The criminal offence would most likely have been framed under s66 (s64 wouldn't come into play until I received my commission)

Yep - my being transgender would likely have been considered 'disgraceful'. 'indecent' and 'unnatural' Of course there may have also been a sprinkling of s69 added to seal the deal - it certainly was for many other LGBT+ soldiers over the decades - a wrong which the magnificent Lord Michael Cashman is working hard to overturn.

What it told me was that no matter how masculine the environment, I was Emily and always would be - it also tells a story that has been on my mind a lot recently since I came out. Lots of my lovely friends say that 'things have got a lot better now' for Trans people, and in many ways they are absolutely right. 10 short years after I risked disgrace and arrest the absolutely amazing and inspirational Hannah Graf (Winterbourne) transitioned while serving as an army officer - I talked in an earlier post about not having role models as I grew up, and Hannah is a good example of what I lacked.

I left the Army following injury, and didn't have a clue what I wanted to do - I ended up working in recruitment, which is essentially sales (something I hate!) - and spent a miserable time in London, making choices like 'cigarettes or food' and eating a lot of what I called 'Rice Surprise' - recipe available in the gift shop. During this period of profound unhappiness (my mum was also very seriously mentally ill at this time) I retreated to being me when my flatmate was out - scraping together some clothes and shoes just for a few hours of what seemed like distant normality. I questioned myself then - was I a 'crossdresser' - and able to function in boy mode? - I really didn't know but I knew that presenting myself as the woman I felt myself to be made me happier than being 'him'

It was at this time that I decided after a few post work drinks to come out again. The need to talk to someone was overwhelming, and I decided that a gay colleague at work would surely be sympathetic (or at least empathetic) to the horrors of being in the closet for so long.

Reader: He was not. I mentioned it casually, I don't recall exactly what I said, but I recall with searing clarity the response:

Him: "Why the fuck have you told me that you dirty bastard"

Me: "....."

Him: (To the work colleagues and other patrons of the Dogget's Coat and Badge pub) "Do you know what this dirty fucker just told me?"

Me: "....." (Tears welling up and face turning pillar box red

Him: (To all laughing) "He's a fucking tranny - just told me"

I left the pub in tears stumbling onto Blackfriars Bridge and climbed over onto the light gantry - before spending 3 hours contemplation a leap into the Thames. I ended up walking home crying and never returning to the job. I learned two hard lessons:

1. Don't assume that all LGBT people are automatically allies

2. Suicide is hard

Sharing that flat I returned to in tears with a friend made me nervous that I'd be discovered and I ended up purging my clothes - feeling furtive, like a criminal disposing of stolen goods I took things to public dustbins late at night stuffing them well into the bin looking around to make sure nobody saw me - what an absurd life to be leading - especially as this is when I gave myself my name; Emily.

I'm often asked now how I chose the name, I have two answers - one is sweet and lovely (That I loved Bagpuss as a child - I did - and that I named myself for girl who, we are reminded at the end of every episode, loved Bagpuss too)

But the answer is far more mundane. I 'just was' - it was my name and I'd be known as 'Ems' to my friends. And it stuck - even though I didn't reveal it to anyone in real life for nearly 20 more years.

Seeing trans people being ordinary (and extra-ordinary) - achieving in life and their careers is essential to tackle the horrors of isolation, shame, rejection and guilt that living in the closet can bring.

Right now there are a shit-ton of prominent people sharing hate, fear and lies about the transgender community. Names like Glinner and Rowling are a depressing reminder that people with privilege and reach think it's ok to tell me and more importantly those I love that I am not valid, that I am a predator or a pervert; and that's not OK. I haven't yet used the word T3RF on here - and even then, I am hiding it to protect myself from the pile on.

Trans exclusionary radical feminists are folks who believe (frankly) that trans women are criminals - if not actually, then criminals in waiting; that our reason for being is to trick people - usually women, into sex, dangerous situations and some sort of 'erasure' of the 'female experience'. None of this is backed up with fact, beyond some very elementary views of biology, learned as teenagers, and none of which takes the lived experience of trans people into account.

In simple terms, trans women are women - it's a simple as that. Women who want to live, love, be happy, work in fulfilling careers, enjoy life without undue attention or causing hurt to others. Being made to feel like criminals or criminals in waiting (I was once called a 'rapist' un-ironically on social media) is a situation which kills - the cure is a change in societal views of the trans community and visibility. Part of my transition plan is visibility - being out long before I transition to share the pain, difficulties and joys of being able to be openly me. Longer term I will advocate for Trans people, especially Trans youth - nobody should feel ostracised or criminalised because of ignorance.

Next one's a biggie - especially for Cis folks - where I attempt to describe what it feels like to suffer with Gender Dysphoria.