Suzi's open house

Chapter 7: Schooldazed and confused.

By the time I was 12 years old, I needed some stability. I'd been to 8 different schools around the country and so there was nothing for it but to enrol at an all-boys boarding school. It was for sons of naval personnel and the boys came from all around the UK and overseas bases - too many different accents for anyone to get victimised, but plenty of other reasons were found. The school was run on military lines with, alongside the usual curriculum, rifle shooting, sailing and seamanship, and lots of cold showers, shouting and marching.

Paradoxically, it turned out that here it was quite normal for small and pretty boys to be given femme names. That's where "Suzi" was born. To be called this was not to be insulted, because in the topsy-turvy world of a single-sex environment, polarising around definite masculine and feminine traits becomes the norm. I believe the same happens in prisons.

Liaisons sprung up between the sporty, gung-ho types and their simpering band of hero-worshippers - and nobody was going to question it without risking a beating. Many of these friendships were never more than platonic anyway.

I recall that I played female roles in school dramas, with makeup, wigs and long gowns - I see a pattern emerging here! I'm not sure now if I used to shake with nerves, or if it was the effect of seeing myself in the mirror, totally transformed. I do remember wanting to keep the outfits on long after everyone else had changed.

Between terms, everyone dispersed to the 'four corners', and it seemed I was always coming home to somewhere new. I actually missed school and my friends - and the fact that I was 'Suzi' there. I spent many holidays on my own, but I never considered myself lonely and have since never worried about being on my own (though I'm happy right now that I'm not!).

By my mid-teens, I had accepted the fact that I was not following a path that my contemporaries seemed to have mapped out, and I relished my being different. What that difference was, I'm not sure I realised then, but with the combination of my exposure to feminine influences, and being considered feminine at school, I began in my mind to explore the possibility that perhaps I would have been happier being born a girl. The next step in the progression was then to see what I looked liked as a girl, in more modern outfits than those I had to wear in school plays. Occasional opportunities came along and I discovered that I looked OK, and what's more it felt good and it felt right.

The one or two girls I did meet outside of school were daughters of my parents friends. In this situation there seemed to be no threat either way, and strong friendships grew. We shared secrets and confidences that were, I believe, unusual between boys and girls of our age. Later, I was the shoulder to cry on, the friend to make them laugh, get them through bad times, and take them out without them wondering when I was going to 'make a move'. Difficulties came later when they developed more permanent boyfriends. The boys didn't like the special relationship I seemed to have with their girlfriends, and gradually those friendships drifted away. But I was always one for moving on to the next thing, taking the good memories with me.

Back at school, the boys bragged about their various conquests, mostly the product of their own fevered imaginations. It wasn't long before the old liaisons re-established themselves, or new ones were made. I dreamed about being a real girl and having the school heroes lusting after me. As I reached the end of my schooldays, I just wanted to get them over with and establish the kind of life I desired.

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