contact: Janet Lynn Thomas

In Pursuit of Happiness and Red Pumps

Chapter 1

In the Beginning...

The day I became a person was on September 26, 1952. I was born in a small mid-western town during a period of regrowth in both economic and social areas. From what I was told, this day was cold, dark and rainy like most autumn days in the northeastern part of the country. My birth certificate listed my gender as male and thus started the life journey for Janet.

The medical definition of what I have experienced is Gender Identity Disorder (GID) or more commonly, Gender Dysphoria. From my medical knowledge and research, I have discovered that several animal studies have demonstrated that exposure to cross-sex hormones during certain stages of fetal development can reliably produce cross-sex behaviors in animals. Basically it means that although I was born a male, or being a biological male, I always thought of myself being female - transgendered.

The earliest I can remember feeling a little different from most young boys was at the age of 5. This seems to be a common age of awakening for transgendered individuals. Sexual awareness develops at a later age, about the time your body starts producing sex hormones (estrogen for women and testosterone for men). Studies have shown that this age of sexual discovery is typically 13 but can be much earlier or later in one's life.

Early infancy androgen effects are the least understood. In the first weeks of life for male infants, testosterone levels rise. The levels remain in a pubertal range for a few months, but usually reach the barely detectable levels of childhood by 4-6 months of age. The function of this rise in humans is unknown. It has been speculated that "brain masculinization" is occurring since no significant changes have been identified in other parts of the body.

Early blood tests, as well as subsequent testings done throughout my existence, have shown an abnormally low testosterone level and high estrogen levels. The exact cause of this has never been fully explained to me with the exception of my latest physician. Dr. Goodman has made some educated assumptions that my pituitary gland is at fault and has caused a hypogonadic state during my male development. For whatever reason, my body converts testosterone into estrogen, similarly to the body's ability to store excess foods as fat, my pituitary sensed that I had enough testosterone in the blood and converted whatever amounts were being produced by my small testis and my adrenal glands into estrogen. Thus, I may never have had the "brain masculinization" from early development but rather experienced the opposite effect, feminization of my brain.

My sexual preference should not be confused with my gender identity. As I grew older I had a normal sexual preference for females which is considered heterosexual based on my genetic sex. This preference can only be considered homosexual, or lesbian, based on my gender identity of being female. For whatever category I can be placed in, I never had a normal heterosexual or homosexual desire since I never really sensed any sexual desires due to low hormone levels. My sex drive was well below that which could be considered normal.

This is too early in my childhood to be talking about sexual desires. At the age of 5, I was more interested in playing games, watching television or just plain discovery of things in my surroundings. Although we start perceiving gender at about that age, society has yet to establish gender roles on young minds. From my own perspective, I first desired to take part in the games that my next door neighbor, a female, wanted to play. There were several opportunities that availed themselves for me to play the rough and tumble games with most of the boys in the neighborhood since they outnumbered the number of neighboring girls by 4 to 1. My choice though was to play house, learn to cook on the "Easy Bake" (no endorsement), and the desire to dress the same as the girl next door.

The desire for dressing as a girl has stayed in with my memory banks longer than any other of my childhood activities. As I age, I remember far less of the good times I enjoyed as a child and more of the painful memories. The most memorable event from that period of my life was dressing in my mother's clothes, from that event there is one memory that has remained as vivid today as it happened in 1957 - the red pumps.

I remember a pair of red patent leather, high heeled pumps that I found hanging on the inside of a closet door in my mother's bedroom. During that time period of the 50's, people had a tendency to use moth balls to ward off moths and other creatures hungry for the taste of clothing. The sweet but pungent aroma permeated my mother's closet as well as everything within it. That smell has been firmly implanted in my brain and will forever be associated with those red pumps.

Not to get off the subject, but there is a reason that smells can bring back memorable moments more than any of the four other human senses. You see the olfactory nerve responsible for the sense of smell is the only cranial nerve that has a direct connection to the outside world (cranial nerves are nerves that emerge directly from the brain in contrast to spinal nerves which emerge from segments of the spinal cord). None of the other human senses ( taste, hearing, sight or touch) will the stimulation have a direct route to the brain. It is that direct connection that makes is responsible for the flashbacks. Try it sometime. Close your eyes and breathe in a familiar and pleasant aroma and see if it doesn't bring to mind a memorable moment.

I loved every opportunity to wear those pumps and was in hog heaven whenever my mother left the house and gave me enough time to raid her closet. I could finally dress the part that I played next door even though most 5 year old girls don't dress in heels at that age. Walking in 3 inch heels is difficult enough for adult women, but for a 5 year old child, it is very awkward and usually is associated with taking a few tumbles on the carpet. There lies my downfall, I was always falling down and I have the scars to prove it.

One morning as my mother went out to hang laundry on the clothesline, I had an opportunity to wear the shoes. Problem was that I was not fully awake but could not afford to pass up an opportunity to put on her shoes. I can't remember being told that it was wrong but for some reason I was always in stealth mode during those moments. It may have been because I was told to never enter her bedroom but after that morning, I knew it was wrong to wear those shoes as well. My mother came into her room unexpectedly and there I was prancing around like a runway model. So proud and so taken in by the moment I never noticed her standing in the doorway. I remember the spanking I received but not the scolding which seemed odd but I knew from that moment on I would have to be more inconspicuous and cautious whenever I dressed in women's clothes. It didn't deter me but it did slow me down a bit.

Those red pumps had friends that cried out for me to try them on from time to time. In the neighborhood, from house to house, and from relative to relative, no closet was left untouched by my curiosity. Low heels, high heels, sling back pumps, wedges, sandals, I tried them all. None came close to the effect that those red pumps had on my development and the aroma of moth balls will always bring to mind the memory of me and the red pumps!

Those days were special for me. But there was more to my curiosity than wearing shoes.

In the days of my youth, most women wore makeup, and lots of it. Unlike today where the natural look is in vogue, the style of the 50's was pancake, blue eye shadow, red rouge, thick mascara, and ruby red lipstick. The look was everywhere and every home had the basic ingredients for a complete makeover. There was one big difference with makeup back then from the concoctions of today - they were semi-permanent.

After applying the makeup you pretty much needed a spatula to scrape it off. The reason I say it is semi-permanent is that even after removing the makeup, washing your face with soap and water, you always had a little makeup left on the face. Just enough for a curious male child to be found out by his grandmother.

One afternoon I raided my maternal grandmother's medicine cabinet and found her makeup supplies. I applied them as best as I knew how because they didn't come with directions. There was a sample tube of lipstick from Avon (Avon was notorious for leaving samples of their products during their door to door sales) which was the size of an eraser on a number 2 pencil, a container of rouge (which was like a red paste), black mascara (also in the form of a black paste and came equipped with a tiny brush instead of the typical wand of today) and a box of pancake makeup (the name itself will tell you the consistency of the product). After everything was applied I looked like Tonto from the Lone Ranger except we never got to see the show in color back then, you had to guess that this was what he looked like in color.

Removing the makeup after several moments of looking into the mirror, all that remained was a red tinted wash cloth, red stains on the sink, and a slightly red face on a little boy's face. This was the second time I got exposed for dressing as a young lady except this time it was my grandmother. I wasn't punished for my escapades, but I could tell she was highly disappointed in me and I never saw the makeup left out for me again.