Becoming Myself: The True Story of Thomas Who Became Sara (19 page)

When I met Kathy I had no idea that she was going to have the most profound effect upon my life. It is no exaggeration to say that Kathy did more to help me develop a better sense of myself than any other person I’d ever met. I would visit her often and enjoyed her company immensely; we had many things in common and I felt we could be very good friends and companions, which I am proud to say is what we became.

When Barbara was introduced to Kathy and her family, she saw how well we got on and did everything she could to
encourage it, for motives she was soon to reveal. I genuinely resented her attempts at encouraging me to have an affair with Kathy, as that is not at all what I was interested in, or, how I felt. When I challenged her behaviour she unashamedly disclosed that she was seeing someone else! To say I was gobsmacked would be an understatement. At the same time, I was learning more and more about Kathy’s own unhappiness, and the more I learned, the more convinced I became that we were in the same boat, so to speak.

Events with Barbara were deteriorating so badly and my depression was worsening to such a degree that I felt I really needed to get away altogether and so decided not just to leave Barbara but to also leave west Limerick altogether and start over somewhere else. This decision was to result in some later difficulties, but moving away from west Limerick and from Barbara was to mark the end of my days as Thomas Dunne and open the way for me to finally emerge as the person I was always meant to be: Sara-Jane Cromwell. I am eternally in Kathy’s debt for this.

I told Kathy of my decision to leave west Limerick, to which she replied that she, too, wanted to get away and have some time to herself to think about what she wanted to do with her life, so we started to look for a suitable place to go. While I was reading the
Irish Examiner
, I came across a business opportunity in Midleton. I asked Kathy if she would be interested in coming with me to look into it, and so we travelled to Midleton on a Saturday to meet the man who had placed the ad in the paper.

When we got to Midleton we took to it immediately. I had a meeting with the man who had the
IT
training room and also the landlord of a premises in the Rosehill Business Centre in Ballinacurra. I was on a high and felt very optimistic. No
matter what had happened with the business opportunities, I was determined to make a fresh start and move to Midleton. I told Kathy of my decision and that she was welcome to join me and that we could share a place, to save on the expense of renting and to be company for each other while she decided what to do next. She thought about it for some time and came to the decision, entirely on her own, that she would come to Midleton with me and stay for about two to three weeks and then move to Birmingham to her sister, Stacy.

In moving into the same house, Kathy and I would lay ourselves open to rumour and accusation, but the truth of the matter is, we were two unhappy people whose friendship would sustain us through difficult times. And we remain friends to this day. It is entirely understandable that her family were deeply upset when she left Newcastle West. It is even understandable that they and her so-called friends misunderstood the true nature of our situation as it was then. It was Kathy’s own decision to try and find a new life for herself; that was entirely her right and it should have been respected. I had heard of the vulgar comments and accusations being made about me, but I comforted myself with the truth and held steadfast to the fact that I knew how things really were.

W
hen we moved to Midleton on 18 September 1998, I had a mere £800 at my disposal, which had to pay for food and the next month’s rent. Our only other income was £160 per week from my own business in Newcastle West, which was expected to keep us both until that business was sold to one of my own employees.

I had been told just how hard it would be to do business in a small town like Midleton, and I would have to agree that it has proven tough at times. I won’t lie and say that I never experienced difficulties, but for the most part I have been very well received in Midleton, so much so that I have made some wonderful friends, even amongst my clients.

Struggling with debt and with the stresses of the previous year beginning to take their toll, I wasn’t long in Midleton before I tried to drown myself in the river that ran alongside our apartment. We had gone out for a drink with Kathy’s son and his girlfriend. Something was said that upset me and so I left the restaurant and went for a walk. I really had no idea until then just how depressed and fragile I had become over
the previous few months; something snapped that night which left me feeling utter despair. I just wanted it all to stop and so went down into the river. But as in the case of going into the sea at Lahinch, I realised how awful it would be for Kathy and so I left the river and went back to the apartment, only to be greeted there by two gardaí. I had been reported missing. Kathy must have sensed how bad I was and was worried about me enough to contact the gardaí out of concern for my wellbeing.

I decided to sell One-2-One Communications, my business in Newcastle West, to one of my employees and to set up a new business in Midleton under a different name; MetaCom Consultancy Services. I started as a sole trader, then invited Kathy to come on board and set up a limited company, which we did in early 1999. We provided training and consultancy services in a number of areas, concentrating on health and safety, and on computer training for groups and on a one-toone basis. We advertised in the local papers and within no time we became very busy, but it would be a long time before we would see anything like adequate income coming in and our debts were mounting, so the financial stress began to tell.

The pressure from work was becoming so great that we had to decide on whether to move the business into an office premises in the town rather than operate it from our home. We found a place nearby and moved in, in November 1999. It turned out to be a disaster. When we returned from the Christmas break we found sewage stinking out the office, a problem that was to persist for the following five months, which meant that we had to bring the business back to our apartment.

Things looked up when we received our
ECDL
accreditation, but no sooner had we received the accreditation that would
help us to get back on our feet, than we were told by our landlady that she was selling our rented apartment. We were completely devastated and stressed out. It did nothing but plunge me back into a deep depression and Kathy decided to go back to Limerick to stay. I was at my wit’s end. So back to Limerick she went to try and sort herself out. I really couldn’t blame her, but it hurt me terribly and it was the last straw.

Throughout this whole period, the ever-growing issue of my gender conflict was to take the most unexpected turn. While I was still living in Rathfredagh, Barbara, who had met Kathy, had shown her some of my clothing, but never explained its significance. This left Kathy feeling confused but she said nothing to me until we’d moved to Midleton. Kathy returned from Newcastle West one day and noticed that her dresses were hanging differently in the wardrobe, but wasn’t exactly sure of the reason for it. Then there was an occasion when we were out shopping in Roches Stores in Limerick. Kathy saw me looking at a mannequin and becoming very distressed. She got the strange idea that I was going to attack the mannequin, which, of course, was an absurd idea, but she was absolutely right about me being distressed; how could I have been otherwise, given everything that was happening. I absolutely loved shopping with Kathy, but the downside was the frustration I felt every time we went shopping and I could not buy the clothes I really wanted to. Added to this was Kathy’s correct observation that I showed little or no interest in men’s clothes.

Kathy was convinced that I was eyeing up other women while we were out together. She noticed how I’d be looking at them while driving or walking about. She interpreted this as my fancying anything in a skirt. I found this very upsetting
because nothing could have been further from the truth. What I was doing was looking at what women were wearing and picking up ideas on what and what not to wear for my height and shape etc.

Finally, after the incident with the mannequin, she questioned me about her clothes being rearranged. The time had come to confide in her about the problem I’d been having with my gender conflict or cross-dressing as I knew it at the time.

Why did I leave it so long to tell her? Because I wasn’t sure if she was going to be staying around or if she was going to England to her sister and my situation was far too important and sensitive to be telling people about it, only to find myself alone because of it, the most terrifying thing for those who have to disclose their condition.

I finally plucked up the courage to tell Kathy of the lifetime I’d spent living with the stress of feeling like a woman in a man’s body and my need to dress accordingly. I was about to do one of the most frightening things I’ve ever done in my life. What made it so terrifying was that I really enjoyed having Kathy around and what I was about to do could literally destroy our friendship forever, especially as I couldn’t give a precise reason for why I felt this overwhelming sense of being in the wrong body. Like so many others, I didn’t know the exact reason for feeling as I did, but I’d had a whole lifetime of experience living in the wrong body. What was happening now was about to change all that.

Kathy said she wanted to see what the dressing was about and suggested that I try on one of her dresses and use her make-up. She waited downstairs while I nervously dressed and put on my makeup. I didn’t have a wig to wear and felt really weird and stressed. I had a sense of this being the
moment of truth and a point of no return, regardless of how she reacted.

I came down the stairs, watching her reaction as I came into view. Her face said it all and it was evident that she was distressed by what she saw, but not for the reasons I’d imagined. I thought I looked liked like a freak to her, but she just saw a woman. I sat down and talked about how we were both feeling. Then she said something I thought I’d never hear in my life: ‘You’re definitely a woman and you need to do something about this. You’ll have to go and see someone about this.’ She also told me that she was very distressed at seeing a completely different person in front of her and that even my voice had changed and that she was scared, and she looked every bit of it, so I went and changed back into my own clothes.

It really is hard to say that the experience was in any way enjoyable, but it certainly marked the beginning of the end of my having to live in the wrong body. Kathy overcame her initial distress and, from that moment on, whenever we went shopping she would encourage me to buy clothes and we had some very funny moments when she spoke to me as just another of her girl friends. We would be looking at something and she would turn and say, ‘You should get that, it would look really good on you.’ The only problem was that other women would be standing close-by and would look over at us, wondering why she was talking to me like that. I would go red and nudge Kathy. She would say that she just felt natural about it.

The more we shopped, the more clothes I bought and I began to dress more frequently. Whenever Kathy was away and we spoke by phone, she would ask me if I was dressed. I would ask her how she knew: ‘Because your voice always
changes.’ I honestly hadn’t realised that and it made me think about what would happen if I lived every day of my life as the woman I felt inside. I didn’t dress every day as that would have been impractical, but I did every chance I got and it felt more comfortable every time.

During this period I made the decision to go back to work as a sole trader and kept the business name. I was doing personal development courses for
FÁS
Community Employment Schemes. It was during these courses that people noticed certain telling female traits coming through. As I discussed various issues regarding relationships, it was very obvious where I stood: the women on my course were at a loss to understand how I knew so much about being a woman and this struck them as extremely odd. Never once during these courses did I ever let on about my gender conflict, but that didn’t stop them from noticing and questioning my motives.

I remember two instances in particular. One was a course I taught in Ennis, Co. Clare. As the course progressed, the women began to question how I knew so much about being a woman. I couldn’t explain it to them other than to say it came from experience, which was partly true, but how could I explain the rest of it when I didn’t fully understand it myself; it was just second nature to me. I remember receiving a cake and a massive-sized thank-you card signed by everyone who had done the course. One of the ladies wrote:
‘keep something for yourself’
. As it turns out, she was a counsellor and so would have known if I was merely bull-shitting everyone.

The second instance was a health and safety course I taught in Mitchelstown for the female staff of a well-known local paper. One of the course modules was manual handling. As part of the demonstration, I had to show the
women the incorrect way to lift loads. Women have a very different method of lifting to men: the locked-knees method and the side-and-twist method. They are distinctly feminine in nature and are completely different from the way in which men lift. There is simply no mistaking the difference and you really have to be a woman to lift a certain way. When I was demonstrating the incorrect method to the ladies, one of them literally said: ‘Is there something you want to tell us, Tom?’ I immediately replied with a very red face, ‘Yes, but not right now.’ Ultimately, when my disclosure was made, I understand that there was a lot of delight amongst some of these women, because they had known that something was different about me that now finally made sense.