Transgenderism: Is It A Gender Identity Disorder? Or Just Different?

What age do we really start to remember things? I have some vague memories when I was a kid? I am pretty sure I was not yet four years old. Because when I was four years old, we were already living in a different house. I can remember when we have a guest and asked me how old I was. I said I was four. But the memory I want to share now was before that, because I remember we were still in that old house. I must be three years old or even younger. Is it possible that we remember things at that age?

In that old house, I was not older than three years old, there was a huge party. I am not sure what kind and whose party. All I remember is that there are a lot of food and a lot of people. There was a teenage girl who I think used to baby sit me. I asked her to take off her skirt, because I want to wear it. When she refused, I cried out loud on the floor.

One day, I and my grandmother were in the market. She was planning to buy me slippers. Of course, as a boy, the slippers that my grandmother had in mind are slippers suitable for boys. I did not want that. I liked the pink slippers with pretty ribbons on the side. Again, I cried out loud on the market and did not stop until I got the pink slippers with ribbon I wanted. I was not yet six years old. I went to kindergarten when I was six. I was not in kindergarten on this event. Maybe I was five?

As a kid I had a huge doll. That doll was about half my size. I also used to have kitchenware and tea party play sets. I used to play a lot with that doll and my kitchen wares. As I played, I imagined that I was a mommy.

Then, I grew a little bit older. I went to school. I always get along with girls. I never played with any single boy. I find them very intimidating. I always feel safe and at home with my own crows, which is all females. Most adults always mistake me for a girl, because I behave, move, and talk like a girl. They will just know that I am a boy when I tell them my name. The most common reaction that I get: “Oh you are a boy! I thought you were a girl!”

I did not behave the way a boy is expected to behave. As a kid I was aware that I was different. It used to bother me a little, because I thought there was something wrong with me. I never been to a psychologist or a psychiatrist when I was a kid, but if I did, they will diagnose me with Gender Identity Disorder. Now that I am an adult, I look back to this specific period of my childhood, then I realised I have trouble with the word disorder. It implies that I am sick. I might be different, but it does not mean that I have a disorder.


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