CRAPPY PRIVATE REVEALING POST.

G’Day All, This post may upset some of you, however, I need to be completely open & honest about some things about me.

Growing up, I was always told negative things:

Useless,

Worthless,

Never Amount To Anything.

These comments were from my male cousins, and father.

I was the only cousin on my fathers side, with a sister, and I feel that I was bullied because of it, like it was my fault.

I was even told, “Do The World A Favour And Drop Dead.”

Christmas 1972, I was 7. My parents bought me a toy train set, something I wanted.

That morning, we went across to our neighbours home, but when I saw the train set, set up, I was told, “No, You Can’t, We Must Test It First.” Dad was talking about the neighboured, grown men.

I wanted to cry, because it was my present, but my father would have smacked the living daylights out of me.

My father was an old fashioned male, who didn’t believe that men showed emotions, his opinion was, that showing emotions was a sign of weakness.

Dad had served in the Army, during the Korean conflict, he was about to be shipped over, when it ended.

I kept my emotions to myself, publicly, but would cry when I was alone & in bed, but quietly, just in case I was overhead.

1979, when my Groovy Claire Baire ended our relationship, I wanted to talk to her, as I hoped that we could salvage the relationship. Dad told me, “She Hates You, Leave Her Alone, You Are Better Off Finding A Girl Who Will Love And Obey You.”

At the time, I listened to and believed him, but in hindsight, I did the wrong thing.

Secondary school was a nightmare. I was constantly bullied and ridiculed, especially over my mothers name: Wilma.

There was a student who would not accept my legal surname, he would constantly refer to me as Jenkins, even when I reported this person, I was not believed.

This hurt me so much.

Sports day was the worst, I remember one day, all the boys were in the changing rooms, getting changed, when some asked me very personal questions, which got me so uncomfortable that I went into an individual cubicle and cried.

Even the girls abhorred me. I was accused of touching the breast of another student, something I still say, I accidentally did. At the time, because of dad, I was Racist and Sexist, so would not have touched this girl. Her heritage was not White Australian.

I was punished with 12 strokes of the cane on each hand.

However, this girls friends did not believe my punishment was severe enough.

They decided to play a joke on me.

This joke resulted in me almost dying, which left me infertile and no interest in anything remotely sexual or even wanting to be touched.

I never revealed the complete truth to anyone, not until I wrote my true story, even then, some things have been omitted, due to how raw some of the memories are.

I had been molested from 6-14, by an older relative, which still haunts me today, and together with the above assault, caused me to have major trust issues, especially around intimacy.

I wanted to be a Journalist when I grew up, my dream was to work for my favourite television station, which was based in a leafy northern suburb of Sydney, then. The above “Joke” Cancelled that dream.

When I was 14, was encouraged to drink alcohol, smoke, and play the pokies/slots, by my “Best Friends” father, who again, believed to be a man, you drank beer, smoked, gambled and  treated women like 5th class people.

I did not want to pursue this avenue, but did to keep the peace.

Dad wanted me to follow in his footsteps, that of joining the Army, and possibly going in Security.

I did, and still do, abhor guns of any kind, this includes toy guns too.

Because of the negativity, I didn’t feel good enough, nor was I happy to be sharing with other males.

Thankfully, I was rejected, but dad felt I had not tried enough, so he told me to try the others. They rejected me too.

Again, dad blamed me.

To appease him, I decided to pursue employment in male dominated areas. I was still battling my inner demon, my Gender Identity, although at the time, I never knew what it was called.

I felt that I was a Weirdo, Freak, even Pervert, because I was:

“Not Normal.”

Unfortunately, I never fitted in as I abhorred everything males did and said.

I still had not revealed to anybody about my female feelings, only Claire Baire knew.       

All my life “Existence” people have made assumptions about me, usually based on my face.

Which really stinks.

I have tried to find love, but each time, it has never occurred, either the person only used and abused me, or they wanted complete intimacy from me, which scared me. I decided to punish myself.

In 1992, I started thinking about Claire Baire, from the moment I woke up, until the time I fell asleep. I told dad, who promptly said, “Forget Her, She Is Married With A Couple Of Children, Living In Western Sydney.” Again, I believed him.

I will never forget Friday November 11th, 1994. I arrived home from work. Dad shoved a can a of beer in my hand, and said, “I have checked this and it is correct.” He shoved the newspaper in front of me. I read the highlighted section and gasped. It was CB’s Death notice, but also her Funeral notice too, which had been held earlier that day. I gulped my beer down, then without saying a word, left the room and went for a walk.

I cried, but also contemplated suicide for the first time. However, an unseen force stopped me. To this day, I say that CB has been guiding me with many occurrances.

A person is not who they appear, we are what’s inside us, how we treat others is the most important thing. External looks are nothing, but society is cruel and everybody is judged.

I’ve only ever been in trouble with the law once, which I pled guilty, despite my pleas saying it was not me, but the “Victim” had witnesses, with surprisingly, CCTV all failing at the same time, so it was multiple against 1. I was punished.

I am so anally legal that I walk the same side that vehicles are driven, wait for the green walk signal at lights. I even wait for vehicles to clear before crossing marked foot crossings, this is due to my trust issues and in the past, almost being run down by impatient, selfish motorists.

I have tried to assist younger people, to not make the same mistakes I’ve made in life.

However, other people have made assumptions and interfered.

Early 2015, I became friends??????? with a teen TransGurl on social media, “Chris.” I was happy, as I had tried to be educated on hormone regimes for under 18’s in Australia. I baulked at her age, when I saw it, but she assured me that she only wanted a friendship with me, which I accepted.

As always, I ask permission prior to asking personal questions. “Chris” said, “Yes, but I may refuse if it’s too personal, is that ok?” I agreed.

Unfortunately, someone saw me as a threat, and I think lied to her. I was subsequently blocked , either by her or someone else. I assume this, as late 2018, I was informed that she had spread vicious lies about me online.

When she blocked me, I blamed myself, as my moods had become erratic. I made mistakes, but decided to take revenge on her.

I wrote a novel about our short-lived, pathetic association.

I base characters on people I have known.

For some, illogical reason, I have been unable to forget Chris, to the point where Christmas Day 2018, I almost did the unthinkable, Terminate My Existence, but was stopped. I feel it was CB.

As this is in writing, I want to say this:

Life is a journey, and we should seek the guidance and advice from others, outside our inner sanctums.

I wish I had done that when I was under 30.

People will always make assumptions about us, instead of asking questions.

I do not want to hurt anybody, as we all deserve to live our lives, our way.

FYI: I never meet anyone in private the first few times. MUST be in public, with Support Persons and CCTV prevalent too.

I always insist on important things being in writing, that way, each party has written proof.

Genuine people will agree to these, and will also do further research.

 To ensure safety, I undergo Annual Police Checks, and have also passed and obtained my Working With Children Check Card, which expires November 2021.

To finish, the following is my own personal opinion of myself:

Insecure, Weak, Untrusting, Ugle, Weirdo, Freak, Pathetic, Loser.

This post can leave me vulnerable, but I’ve written it to hopefully allow you all to get a better insight in to the real me.

What you do now, is up to you.

I Thank You all for reading this.

Cheerios.