Girl Lost - My Struggles With Mental Health, Gender Identity, Sexuality, And Other Unexpected Challenges

Part One

Writing this is probably not the best idea I've ever had but want to get a few memories and thoughts down while I still can. I'm not a writer so this may be lacking in proper grammar  and style. It most likely will not have any full names as I occasionally get them confused. Though I'm still fairly good with events, the timeline is beginning  to crumble in places - so a "c" event may come before a "b" event.
Also, not sure about allowing comments. There's a of of hate in the world, especially online.  If you are a hater, I've already experienced these struggles and am satisfied with where I'm at on this journey. I survived it without your help so please keep your hateful thoughts to yourself.

The Beginning

Monday, 23 June 1952, the day my journey began.

I was born at Fairchild AFB outside Spokane, WA.  I weighed in at 6 lbs 4.5 ounces and was 20.5 inches in length with brown eyes according to my "Baby's Own Book". 

My mom was born  a Westerkamm in St. Louis in 1936.  Dad was a Johnson (before being adopted) from Johnson City, Tennessee and was born in 1928. Both came from broken homes with my mom's also being abusive.

Dad was stationed at Fairchild. Mom was staying with her dad and step-mother in Spokane. They were married at Ft. George Wright outside Spokane in 1951. She was 15 and he was 23. I came along 9 months later. At the time, we lived in Spokane on Monroe Street.

My sister came along in August of 1953 and by December  of 1955 I had a new brother. When Dad's enlistment was up, we moved to San Francisco across the street from my dad's mom while he was trying to make ends meet.  Eventually, he ended up reenlisting but this time into the Navy. He was now to be stationed at Sand Point NAS in Seattle.

Sand Point N.A.S.

60+ years and the memories are in most cases sharper then some that are only a few years old. Using a stick (covered in nails) to climb onto the rail of my little brother's crib (which was set up in the back yard) almost cost me an eye. I fell trying to balance myself on it.. A nail ripped open the skin just below my eye leaving me with a faint life-long scar.  An attempt to run away from home was next. I was only about  4  or 5 so this was a major undertaking. I made it to the corner but as I wasn't allowed to cross the street  by myself so had to stop. I ended up turning around and walking the 1/2 block home. Another was riding in our car with  Mom as she tried to teach herself to drive. She would practice in a vacant dirt lot at the end of the street. She didn't seem to pleased as she struggled with shifting and working the clutch.while the car jerked its way across the lot.

By the age of three or four, I had started to struggle with my identity. I was referred to as a "boy" and my sister as a "girl" but the differences seemed to elude me. I considered myself a girl and was attracted to all the things that she was doing and getting - from fun clothes and colorful hair ribbons to a lot of attention.  I was probably more excited then she was about her things. As my parents didn't talk much to us other then to tell us to go play or get ready for dinner or bed,  I found myself very confused with their inability to see I was just as much of a girl as my sister and at my own inability to communicate these feelings. 

Soon we were moving again. This time my Dad was back in the Air Force. Mom would later tell me he hated every day he was in the Navy. This enlistment had us going to the first of his two deployments  to Germany. 

I was excited. It was to be my first plane ride.  The plane was a Constellation (with the three tails). It had a cabin crew staffed by entirely by stewardesses and I had never seen anything like them. I don't know if the word beautiful was in my vocabulary but  I was mesmerized. Every time they went by I was looking to see if they were real. I was excited  by their uniforms with the scarfs and caps and by the time we landed I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up - a stewardess!

                                                                         

Germany - The USAFE Dependents' Schools (57 - 60)

Dad was stationed at Ramstein A.F.B. We were originally quartered off-base in Vogelweh  (near Kaiserslautern Army Base) on the 2nd floor of a German house. Next to the house was the  remains of an old house that had probably been leveled in the war. It was basically a  hole in the ground with just the hint of the original brick and mortar walls remaining.  There was a very distinct aroma of wet dirt, brick, and mortar that still manages to creep into my senses when I least expect it all these decades later.

Vogelweh was where I had my first experience with Halloween.  It was dark out and I could hear kids laughing outside. Looking across the room I watched my "first " pumpkin glide past the window on a long pole.. I ran over in time to see a small group of kids with  more pumpkins bobbing up and down on poles. It was quite the site and a  good introduction to Halloween for this very young visitor to a new country.

Mom had kept all my certificates and report cards throughout my school  years. May and June of 1958  start with  certificates showing I was a member of the "Kaiserslautern American Kindergarten" and a Certificate of Promotion from the Kindergarten to the Primary l Department of the Vogelweh Chapel Sunday School.

By the time I actually started the first grade, we'd moved  to the "stairwell apartments" at Kaiserlauten. They were four stories - no elevators - and we were on the fourth floor. We lived there through part of 1960 school year. Those three years were an education in pain. First I managed to fall out of a tree breaking my arm. I screamed so loud as I tried to walk back to our apartment (while pushing my bike) that a man living in one of the other "stairwell apartment" buildings came down from the top floor of his to help me get home. This incident was followed by me hopping off the top bunk and landing on  the steel ladder of a large toy metal fire truck.  I managed to almost slice a toe off. In the emergency room,  it took four people to hold me down while they stuck a needle into the cut then proceeded to sew it up. My screaming was on par with that the broken arm.

These two incidents were followed  by me getting hit in the throat from a  hard hit baseball in a sandlot ballgame. We were playing in a small  corner of the apartments and the batter was about 15 feet away. Fortunately, at that age - hard hit was a relative term. 

 Another memory from Kaiserlauten involved firecrackers and a girl younger then I was. Some older boys (10 - 12) were at the playground playing with firecrackers and, as I watched, they lit one and dropped it down the back of the little girl's top. She put my earlier screams to shame and I've hated firecrackers ever since.

I don't remember any kids or teachers from Kaiserslautern and other than the one adult who helped me get home after falling from the tree there's only one other that made any kind of impression on me while we were still in Germany. We had company and the guest was sitting to my left at the booth like table when I knocked my glass of milk off the table. While it was still in the air, he reached across me and snagged it mid-air without it spilling a drop and saving me from a trip to the "doghouse". (We had a little wooden doghouse on the wall with our names on little dogs that could be hanged from it.)

Like most kids, music was an integral part of my life growing up and my love for it started to form while we lived in Germany. A show called Hillbilly Reveille on the Armed Forces Radio Network was my first introduction  into what would later be known as the  Golden Age of Country Music. I hated the term "hillbilly"as I got older but the music itself would become another  place I could escape to as I struggled with growing up to fit society's preconceived ideas of male and female.

Two songs stick out - one by Patti Page and the other by Johnny Horton (though I was to young to  know the singers at the time). We were eating at the table when the one from Ms. Page started  playing. My Dad was already standing and told us to stop eating and stand-up. We slowly put down our utensils and looking at each other started to stand.  From the expressions on my sister's and brother's face, they were as confused as I was. He said he had thought he'd taught us better and knew to stand when the "National Anthem" played. Ms. Page was singing the Tennessee Waltz. Knowing how proud he was  of being from Tennessee I was never quite sure if it was a teasing or serious.moment. 

 The Johnny Horton song was Battle of New Orleans and its up tempo beat was the trigger to want to hear more music. I could easily disappear into my head while listening and eventually I would have a collection of about 3500 records from the 50's and 60's ranging from C and W to Pop Vocal and 50's R and R.

The third grade school year (60-61) was interrupted by my dad getting orders back to the U.S.

Flying  back was done on a MAT flight and we had a cabin crew consisting of all stewards. So sad. I had been looking forward to seeing the stewardesses again.

Back In The USA 

Seattle Public Schools  (60- 61)

Seattle again and now attending Brighton Elementary to finish the remaining part of the 3rd  grade. I remember nothing about the kids, teachers or school. But do remember the housing area - Holly Park - near South Beacon Hill. We lived in a 2-story apartment. It had wooden floors and stairs that Mom would buff after waxing using a brick wrapped in cloth on the end of a pole.

We were only there long enough to finish the school year (a few months) but a couple of eye opening  events happened while there. The first was my introduction to snakes. I was walking up the sidewalk -  barefoot - when one came out of the tall grass and slithered over the top of my foot. Nothing new - I screamed. To this day, whenever I see a snake,  I look for alternate ways to get past it even it means going around the block.

The other major incident was the first among several that would lower my trust level with people for the rest of my life. I'd walked down the street and purchased  some candy at a nearby store. I made my selection from the hugest glass display of candy I had ever seen. The counter portion had been higher then my head and about 6 feet wide. I was walking away when the clerk called me back saying I had change coming. Leaning across the glass case she handed me the change and I thanked her again then headed for the exit. I'd barely gotten 10 feet when there was a terrifying crash causing me to jump. The glass from the case had popped out and was now in millions of pieces on the floor. I watched as the clerk pointed me out to a coworker and said it wasn't her fault but mine because I had been in a hurry and forgotten my change. I'd never touched the counter. Her leaning into it to be able to reach over the top was most likely what caused it. Everyone was looking at me but I knew better than to challenge an adult. I quickly left and never returned.

Manners

Yes sir, no mam to all adults -  in or out of uniform -military or civilian - period! Hold a door open for everyone -not just adults - but even other kids if they were within a few steps of the door I was holding open. Please and thank-you. Nothing hard and pretty much standard for growing up in a military family. Chores and homework before playing (homework could be done after dinner in winter when it got dark early). 

Though strict, I never felt mistreated or abused by my parents. (Mom did mention a few years ago that I had talked back to my dad once when I was younger and he had tried to slap me only to end  up breaking his finger on the fridge when I ducked. She said it was the only time that he'd tried to hit me.) Hearing the story surprised me because it never dawned on me to question either of them when told to do something. It just seemed easier to do what I was told and it seemed to keep everyone happy. Keeping everyone happy instead of myself became my ball and chain for most of my life.

We rarely talked. "Kids should be seen and not heard" I was told by my Mom. I always why with that attitude my mom even wanted kids. I think this was one of the reasons why I never bonded with them and it would take so long to try and talk to anyone about things I didn't understand. With my dad, simply put, he was rarely around. Again, no bonding.

 Kent Public Schools  - 61 - 64

4th - 5th - 6th Grades - Scenic Hill Elementary 

After my 3rd Grade school year, we moved to Kent in south King County. My folks had bought a small house in a new community being built out in the vicinity of Lake Meridian just off 124th on 121st. It cost $10,500 with $10 down and $75 a month according to my mom. Dad converted part of the garage into a small bedroom for me which quickly became my  private little world. I spent a huge part of the next few years in that room creating an alternate world in my head where everyone in it saw me as the girl I knew I was.  My friends were the Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew, Trixie Belden,  and of course Annette.

Scenic Hill was about 20 minutes away on the school bus. I wasn't into the classes as much as I should have been - my mind was always drifting - mostly daydreaming that the other girls would accept  me into their world. At recesses and lunch, I became like a small puppy following them around hoping to be accepted as one of them.  I was only in the 4th, 5th and 6th grades during those years but I still remember several of them - probably more so than all of the other girls combined that I would meet through the rest of my school years - Sue and Sally (the twins), Janet C., Sheila B., Gretchen, and sisters Vicki and Jodi were  a few. 

At one time or another (and sometimes simultaneously), I think I had crushes on each of them as much as prepubescent child could have. Not only had I never heard of gender identity but homosexuality was just as unknown to me.  Sheila B. was super cute with her short hair and I would look forward to the times Dad would take me into town for books at the library because she had been there on one visit. Though I don't remember speaking to her, every time  I heard "Sheila" by Tommy Roe I would think of her. Janet C.was as beautiful as Sheila B. was cute and Jodi S. (Vicki's younger sister) turned out to my first kiss. I was chasing her and her sister around at the far end of the playground when they both ran into the trees that bordered the schoolyard. I followed  grabbing a low hanging branch as I caught up to where they were waiting. I found myself hanging upside down while both sisters giggled and Jodi walked up and kissed me on the lips before they both took off running back out onto the playground.
Years later I would take the name Jodi for my own.

Ton F. was my only male friend while we lived there. He lived a block or two over with three sisters - Cheryl, Daryl and Bonnie - all beautiful - and with the latter two being older they were added to my list of crushes. 

My clumsiness continues... 

I remember being out under the school awning playing with the girls when the bell rang for classes. I spun around and stepped into a steel support beam that had only been inches from my back. My eyes watered at the collision and I found myself clutching the beam as I slid to the ground. A lot of giggling surrounded me. Another time, again with the girls, I found myself trying to race against one. We were both down in a sprinters starting position when someone called "go". I pushed off but with no blocks to brace my feet against I found myself landing face first onto the sidewalk as my feet slid out behind me. Again, more giggling followed.

School Dance

The early 60's were the end of classic 50's sound of Rock and Roll but except for an occasional cross-over song on the radio all I was ever exposed to was Country and Western music. It only seemed appropriate therefore that the only school function I got to attend was a square-dance.  I didn't understand the directions being called and it didn't help having to pretend to be one of the guys so I worked hard at holding a wall up while others danced.

Cross-dressing...

Some of the girls were wearing square dance dresses with full petticoats under them and I wanted so bad to be out there wearing one of my own. I had already been trying on my sisters clothes when I was home alone and one time my sister and brother even created a game where first my younger brother was "knocked out" and redressed in one of her dresses to be followed by the same being done to me. On a scheduled Sunday outing to Woodland Park Zoo, I feigned being sick and convinced my parents that I needed to stay home. Over the next few hours, I tried on every skirt, blouse and top my sister owned while checking out their fit in the mirror.

There was nothing sexual about the cross-dressing.  I was still (potentially) years from puberty but I was finding it to be the only way I had to reaffirm how I felt as well as a way to even out my ever increasing anxiety and mood swings. Cross-dressing would really calm me down though as I got older even the dressing wasn't enough to do the job. I really needed to bring my feelings (and dressing) out of the closet but I simply didn't know how to talk to my parents about it.


The Seattle World's Fair - 1962 

My aunt - Mom's older sister - lived on Queen Anne Hill overlooking the fair. It was an awesome location with the entire fair being visible from her front porch and only a 7-8 minute walk to the closest ticket gate. With my aunt playing tour guide, she took us  down to the fair. It was both exciting and terrifying - mostly terrifying. I'd never seen so many people in one place let alone pushing, shoving and bumping into each other and the sounds and the smells - it was sensory overload for this 10 year old. To this day, I still try to avoid crowds and noise whenever possible.

After a morning of covering as many of the rides and sites as we could, it was time to leave but our aunt had one more stop she wanted to make. She asked if we would be interested in visiting a cruise ship docked down at the water. I didn't reply as fast as my siblings and she called me on it asking why I didn't want to the ship. Embarrassed, I muttered that I had spent all my money at the fair.  She then proceeded to read me the riot act stating that when someone invites me somewhere it was a given that they meant to pay. I was in tears. I apologized. She asked again if I wanted to go with my siblings to see the ship and I quietly said yes.

 https://www.cruiselinehistory.com/the-s-s-acapulco-1950s/

No stewardesses but the S.S. Acapulco was still exciting. After touring the ship, she let us attend the onboard movie - Toby Tyler.  I loved the movie - everything about it - but mostly Mademoiselle Jeanette (Barbara Beaird). Something changed in me when I saw her.  She was different then the girls I knew from school. Like my inability to understand my identity issue, I didn't understand my intense attraction to her. From that day forward though, my attraction to girls was more then just wanting to be accepted and recognized as one of them.

Elvis
 
I had never heard of Elvis (my favorite singer) and wouldn't for a few more years but looking back I find it interesting that he was stationed in Germany at the same time we were stationed there and that he had just finished making the movie It Happened at the World's Fair right before I attended the same fair with my aunt. He would also be performing in Phoenix the day I left for boot camp (September 9, 1970). Not big coincidences but ones that would be fun retelling  along with a few others when his name would come up over the years.