I also joined various groups and did hobbies to try and mask who I really was and fit in.
Coming to terms with my sexualityĪs I began to move into secondary school, the feelings that I was different grew stronger and I struggled a lot with my sexuality.ĭesperate to fit in and not be the ‘weird adopted kid’, I had girlfriends. I began to make friends at school and felt settled in my life. Younger life then began to settle into holidays, days out and the ‘normal’ family life.
We were given a second chance, but my birth mum and birth dad were always in my mind. It wasn’t easy, as we both came with a lot of emotional baggage, but our new parents worked extremely hard to ensure that we spoke about our past and were a very open family with the best chance in life we could have. We met them a few times and eventually began to spend weekends and weeks with them.Įventually we moved in with them, and their two cats. When you have been passed around a lot as a child, you just think it’s another move into another home. I remember not really understanding what that meant. Some were good, healthy places and others were the type that you read about in the papers today. We continued to move through various foster parents and children’s homes. This was the last we saw of her, and I remember the pain and tears of being torn away. Very little explanation was given, but we had one hour with her to play and take photos.Īfter this time, they literally took us away and at that age, it was hard to understand why you are not allowed to see your mother again. Social services eventually decided to split us up but thankfully, this decision did not result in us losing each other.ĭuring this period, we still had supervised visits to my mother and by the age of about four or five, she had fallen pregnant again with my sister.ĭuring one of these visits, we were taken into a room before meeting our mum and told that this would be the final time we would see her. We were moved into a variety of foster homes, all with the hope that we may be eventually adopted into a new family.īecause we were two boys, it became difficult to find us adoptive parents who wanted two children. This all occurred within the first three years of my life. It was decided that she could not cope and my brother and I were taken into foster care. But the relationship broke down and I moved with my mother to London, where she became pregnant with my brother.īy this point, she was struggling to cope and had developed a strong drug and alcohol addiction, which at times, put my brother and I in dangerous situations. It seemed sensitive so obviously we didn’t want to mention it.” (My husband is NOT transitioning).My mother was around 17 when I was born in Glasgow in 1982 and my father was roughly the same age.įor the first year of my life, we lived as a family. Asked the teacher if she had, in fact, stated that.her teacher said, “yes, she did. Somehow that must have raised some questions in my daughter’s head because she announced to daycare that “daddy decided he wants to be a girl so he is going to become a girl.” Daycare never mentioned it until our daughter told us this at dinner one night and we about died. We’ve also been talking a lot about my pregnancy and wondering whether the baby is a boy or girl.
As soon as we got to the checkout, she randomly announced to the girl that was checking us out, “Mommy has a penis.” I just stood there for a moment, expressionless, wondering where in the f**k that came from before I finally said, “yeah.I don’t.” The lady just stared at me, forced a smile and replied “have a nice day.” She was being so quiet and so patient so I decided to reward her by purchasing a Melissa and Doug stamp set. My two year old and I were waiting in line at Nordstrom. I was the best pooper at disneyworld that day.and internally embarrassed and entertained at the same time. Well, I'm somewhat shameless, so I clean up and go wash my hands to find that I'm now getting the nods of approval from everyone in the can who heard the interchange. This of course led to chuckles from the long line of stalls populated by other fathers.The chuckles ended up turning into outright laughter.I was so proud of my pooping abilities. At this point the child starts saying in a voice that can only be described as booming "GOOD JOB DADDY! YOU'RE THE BEST POOPER I KNOW!" I let the boy go first (he performed a nice quick dump complete with the customary "Good Job" from me as we were still reinforcing the potty training mantras.) then I of course sit down and perform my own glorious #2 complete with a nice "squeaky door" fart which had the offspring in hysterics. We head off to one of the main bathrooms right next to the castle. Of course after about an hour in the park, both I and the offspring have to go to the bathroom.