So there are a lot of these stories out there, but after going to a vocational rehab counselor who said that me getting raped and me transitioning have something to do with each other. I mean, male rape is unfortunately somewhat trivialized by society because western civilization has this preconception that those who were assigned as males at birth are supposed to be powerful and privileged.

However, my gender dysphoria goes far before the New Culture Summer Camp, where I basically shed the name xxxxxxxx permanently, far before the sexual assault of 2003, and possibly far before anti-discrimination laws for any part of the LGBT population were even an afterthought in my home state.

It all started when I was about 4 years old. I, of course, had the all-American cisnormative childhood where just because I was born with outward plumbing, I was socialized as a boy and told to do boy things and yes, that I am supposed to marry girls. Yes, I've kept my hair long most of my life, but I was still pretty much a boy. Mom left some of her old clothes in my bedroom closet for some strange reason, and I would sometimes go in and try them on. I don't remember if I was ever caught or not, even when doing that during that time would probably have resulted in welts on my ass.

Around the age of nine, there was also a catalyst which made me realize my queerness. I lived next to a foster home; one of the boys there was a close friend named Walter. He was about 1 1/2 years older than me and had the classic foster care backstory of negligent parents and acting out because of them. One fall day, he took me under the deck saying that he wanted to show me something, and he then unbuttoned my shirt, pulled down my pants, and with consent, performed a sexual act on me. It was the day I realized I liked both boys and girls, and I could probably say my cherry was popped at age 9. Chances are, if Walter was an adult instead of one year older than me, I probably would have been traumatized. I felt that I wasn't heterosexual, but of course, knowing my neighborhood, which even now, is very conservative, I declined to be out about my sexual orientation.

Around my fifth grade year, Jerry Springer was at the height of popularity and trans people were still being exploited heavily and shunned from society. I felt really sad for the transwomyn I saw on television, mostly because I could identify with them. I knew I was a womyn trapped in a man's body and wanted to prove everyone wrong that people who were trans were good people and do not deserve Jerry Springer style exploitation. I actually brought it up to my parents and they were really disapproving, but I also remember during a 3 day/2 night class trip to Stokes. I started to feel like I should have been a girl. Maybe it was some spiritual connection to my native ancestors that happened during my time there, but during the bus ride back, I started talking about getting a sex change with some of the boys, and when teachers got word, they told me to stop it and were totally uncool with it (in tr00 Ocean County fashion). So, I declined to be out about my gender identity, what was significant was that I was coming near puberty and it is better to get hormone therapy/SRS before puberty for best results (I am not saying that those who transitioned later are inferior, its just that unfortunately, puberty brings out secondary sex characteristics which are hard to shed for MTF transgenders).

For many years, I pushed my gender identity to the back of my brain. I never mentioned much about it and I tried to erase it from my mind (but watching Lilith Fair on VH1 probably made me secretly daydream about being female and having noone to confide to, I almost reached a breaking point). As a cover to my repressed LGBT status, I strived to be the biggest homophobe ever. For 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, and portions of 10th grade, you would not hear anything positive coming from my mouth about homosexuality or queerness. I strived to be macho and it led to many bad situations. It was not until 2001 that I learned to accept them.

However, this was jeopardized in 2002 when I got a roommate, Phil S., a nice surfer boy who was, literally, a Nazi who kept a copy of Mein Kampf and did Hitlerobics in front of said book. He tried to draw me into his dark world and I almost became a sucker for it (I, however, was attracted to him, and he would love it when I scratched the back of his ears). He was also a drug abuser and an unreliable betrayer; he was eventually kicked out of the school for speed. He eventually, after I lost contact with him, became a born again Christian and is now serving time in a Connecticut prison for being a drunken asshole. I spend the last few months shaking a toxic ideology, and though I became accepting again, the school was still a snakepit; very homophobic, had a culture of violence and sex negativity that culminated in me being sexually abused those final few days.

Two weeks after graduating said school (and the aborted attempt to pull a Budd Dwyer at graduation), I started at Ramapo College. I was too focused on being able to survive my first semester (which I almost didn't, due to the post-trauma). It was not until a 2004 antiwar march that I finally came out as bisexual (I identified as gay from 2007-early 2009, but I'm still wondering why I was lying to myself at the time). During my time at RCNJ, I was never afraid to be out as a LGBT (and I wish I could have joined PRIDE then, but some people who were with Pride were really mean to me), however, I was afraid to express my true gender identity, fearing isolation and potentially getting kicked out, since NJ hadn't passed transgender protection laws yet. However, I did flirt with cross dressing several times, during Halloween of junior year, I had this leopard print blouse, kitty ears, skirt, and fishnets and went trick or treating in Sussex County. Heck, right before that, I even attended class in said clothes (Jillian Weiss's human rights class and an internship meeting with Wayne Hayes). I have to say, I felt liberated when I wore them, but once again, I was afraid. Then, the next year, I got this schoolgirl outfit (white blouse, plaid skirt) and wore that for Halloween, deciding this time to trick or treat in Alpine, NJ (where I actually came upon Chris Rock's house; he gave me some Snickers).

However, during the spring, I think I would get some mileage out of that Halloween costume. So, one snowy white day in February, I decide that for my radio/TV show on WRPR/Channel 10 on RCNJ's cable system, I would be the most outrageous I could be. So, after thinking (I mean, drinking...a Nalgene full of Limoncello) I decided to don said costume (though by the time I decided on it, I was so drunk, I was struggling to even get one button fastened on the blouse or to get my skirt on right). The show was, to say the least, legendary. I also wore a dress for Pride Prom 2007 (also my first prom ever) and even wore said schoolgirl outfit a few more times.

During 2009 was a time when I was beginning to question everything about myself. I ended up marching in a dyke march in June (although I still presented as male, I was wanting to make the transition). Then, one month later, on July 12, 2009; I no longer was xxxxxx to most people, I was Jordan. This happened at New Culture summer camp, and I raided the costume tent for a bunch of dresses/skirts/tops that would fit me, and I became a fierce womyn for one week. I just decided that day that "fuck it all, I'll be myself". I went back to expressing as male the last day because I was going home, but started expressing as female again during my stay at T**n **ks. It was there "Jordan The Tranny Reindeer" was born, and read during a womyn's gathering.

The fall of 2009, I would generally be expressing only intermittently, until Christmas when I started building up a wardrobe of blouses and skirts, and through a New Years Eve party and a roadtrip to Denver and back, I spent a full week as female. Now, when I am meeting friends and am safely out of Ocean County, I usually go feminine with my clothes and makeup, even if it means I have to change at a rest area.

But the change has not been all sartorial!! During a stay in Pittsburgh, I started to use womyn's rooms and pee sitting down and since last fall, I have demanded to be known by a gender neutral pronoun. Now, I look forward to moving to Pittsburgh after my disability comes in (there's a counseling centre that takes Medicaid that helps people transition) and living as female full time.

As of right now, I live at home with less than tolerant parents. I have developed a twitch in my foot, as if I'm trying to shed this male body (I have unusually high levels of testosterone and my Italianness causes me to be extremely hirsute).

So, in other words, there were far more factors, some that may have been from birth, some that may have been environmental, some that may have been somewhat spiritual, that has contributed to my dysphoria. I dunno of anyone who has ever wanted to change their sex over a isexual assault, but I am not one of those people. I just wish that I could have been helped at age 11, which was towards the end of the androgyny that is childhood.

-Jordan Gwendolyn Davis