Please note that this conversation with Leanne includes accounts of transphobia, discrimination and housing issues. Scroll down to the bottom of this page for links to relevant support services.
Leanne is 68. She lives in Devon with her partner and their 2 dogs. Leanne has a background in engineering, is a keen motorcyclist and leads a full, active life, bell ringing and welding in her workshop. She is an invested member of her local parish and has 2 sons and 7 grandchildren. From as early as the age of 6, Leanne felt the sex she had been assigned at birth did not match her true gender. She transitioned later on in her life and as a trans woman, she has had to navigate waves of uncertainty and risk that discrimination and transphobia has bought to her life - including housing uncertainty and unemployment. Managing and overcoming these uncertainties has forced Leanne into many precarious situations, requiring her to use the full force of her resourcefulness, shrewd judge of character and excellent sense of humour to survive.
Leanne describes herself as someone who likes doing and making things. Someone who has a great enthusiasm for life. A woman who gets on with living and follows her own path regardless of those who try to block her.
I carry on doing my own thing
and I’m always trying to be
happy in whatever I do
‘I’m a motorcyclist. I’m a bell ringer. I’m an engineer. I’ve also done open mic nights with my guitar. I just like living. I get on with things you know. I carry on doing my own thing and I’m always trying to be happy in whatever I do. I enjoy people that don’t judge me – I don’t do negative. Bellringing is one of those nice places you can go for that, where you’re part of a team. You’re thinking about bellringing. You’re not thinking about your gender. You’re not thinking about anyone else’s gender. You’re thinking, ‘You’re number 1, you’re number 2, you’re number 3, I’m number 4 and you’re number 5.’ You’re a bell number. You’re free from all the things that people put on top of you. A bit like biking. I went on my motorbike across France in 2018 on my own. Coming back, I made a friend, a German guy. He was a fellow biker. There’s this fellow biker thing. Once you’re in that club and you enjoy biking, there’s no gender issues usually. I’ve even spoken to some of the Hell’s Angels on an equal footing. The gender thing doesn’t come into it. You’re a biker.’
‘I think life has dealt me a cruel deal. I started off in life as male. The life I had wasn’t a bad life. I had a roof over my head and food in my stomach, but I was bullied as a kid. I felt I was too feminine. Not boy enough. At 6 I understood I wasn’t boy enough. There was nothing I could do about it at 6 years old in 1959. I’ve got 2 sisters. They’re both older than me. I’m the baby! Well actually, they chucked the baby away and kept the afterbirth and that’s me! I sprouted forth!’ (Leanne laughs).
‘I’ve got 2 boys and 7 grand kids. I’ve been through the male side of things trying to be male, but it was very hard to be male. It’s also very hard to be trans. Life’s hard. Whatever you’re trying to do, it can be hard. Although you can make it easier for yourself and go down the path you want to go. I brought my sons up with one simple rule – Do whatever you want to do, be whatever you want to be, but don’t hurt anyone else physically or mentally. You don’t need to hurt anybody.’
Being able to read people
at a distance or in the first
conversation really helps
‘When I was transitioning, the main uncertainties were-
Am I going to have any friends at the end of this?
Are my best friends going to turn out to be my best enemies?
Are people going to take advantage of me and my good nature?
There’s the risk of losing your job.
There’s the risk of everything going wrong.’
‘The operation did go wrong for me. I had to have a second operation to put it right. So, I’ve got a big scar that looks like I’ve had a caesarean, which is cool really! (Leanne smiles). Looks like I’ve given birth! I had triplets! They’re a bloody pain! (Leanne laughs).
‘People’s attitudes are another uncertainty. Being able to read people at a distance or in the first conversation really helps. I use body language. Body language tells me more than anything. Sometimes that alleviates the uncertainty, so I know which way I’ve got to swim.’
I should be treated
like any other woman
‘There are uncertainties to do with employment too. I have had lots of interviews where I went in with the old butterflies going. The nerves setting in and the sweaty palms. You sit down and your fears are realised. In the interview, they either patronise you or there is a lot of under the table discrimination. I can always tell straight away. I get people coming in on the interview and smiling at me. I think, “Oh now why are you smiling at me? I know why you’re smiling at me. You want to see what a trans person looks like and sounds like and acts like.” Well f**k me! I fart, piss and bleed just like you! I should be treated like any other woman. You just ignore it. The mechanism of these things is you either ignore it or confront it. It’s the flight or confrontation sort of thing.’
A lot of trans people live
a life for other people
‘I’ve also had lots of interviews where they have said, “You’re not quite suitable.” “You’ve got too many qualifications.” “We’ve already got somebody who is perfect for the job.” It’s as if they’ve got to tick a box that says, “I’ve interviewed a trans person.” I went for a secretarial job once. I can type 60 words a minute, touch typing. I retrained myself. I thought, “This is where I want to go.” I want to go into a girly situation, to learn all the things I hadn’t learnt about being a woman over the past 50 odd years. 50 years of knowing I was a girl but being bought up as a boy and being expected to do boy things. I wanted a job where I could talk girly things and learn the sort of natural girly things that cis-gendered women are taught and know all their lives. I didn’t have that chance of learning how to put make up on and how to present yourself without overdoing it. It was about fitting in. That’s the thing. A lot of trans people live a life for other people. We are not living our life for ourselves, we are always trying to please others.’
It’s just a birth defect
‘I ended up getting a job in Tesco. You’d get people coming through and they’d do the nudge-nudge, wink-wink to each other. I’d ask, “Is there a problem?” and they’d say, “Oh no, no.” Mother’s with children. They’re the best. I love them. The little child will look at you all quizzical and ask, “Are you a girl or a boy?” And the mother goes red. It’s almost like she’s filling up with red and I ask, “Why do you ask that?” It’s the voice that lets me down usually and I tell them, “It’s just a birth defect”. And once they’ve got that answer, they’re usually happy. I’ve got big hands – “It’s a birth defect.” I’ve got a long face – “It’s a birth defect.” I’ve got glasses! – “It’s a birth defect!” (Leanne laughs). I’ve got an ear on each side of my face! – “It’s a birth defect!” (Leanne laughs again). Well, it is, isn’t it! I wasn’t born into a body that matches my gender. I’m not lying, I’m telling them the truth! I tell you what though, when I was working on the check out at Tesco, a lot of the same customers would come to me again and again and again. People would queue up for me. The assistant would say, “Well that till is free.” But they’d say, “I want to see Leanne.” Because they know that they get a bit of banter, they get a bit of “how it is!” I’d take the mick out of them, and they’d love it! I got my silver award for customer service. People would write in, to feedback on my service.’
I just needed my own space
with people I felt safe with,
so I bought myself a narrow boat
‘Housing is another uncertainty. When I first came out, got my deed poll, and lived as Leanne, I lived in the same area as I had a house originally with my ex-wife. I lived in a rented place. I rented off some friends because I had abuse from other rentals. I was just trying to establish myself in a place, where I felt safe and where I could start my transition. The friends I was renting from turned funny, so unfortunately, I lost them as friends. I just needed my own space with people I felt safe with, so I bought myself a narrow boat! I was bought up in Cornwall and I worked for a while in a shipyard in my other life. That’s where I learnt how to weld. But talk about nerves! I hadn’t lived on or steered a narrow boat before. I had a quick try out on it before I bought it. I ended up steering it all the way from Wigan to Gloucester docks! It took me 10 days and I had to negotiate the River Severn from Stourport down to Gloucester. My learning curve went right up steep! (Leanne laughs). It’s the locks. (A lock is a device used for raising and lowering boats between stretches of water of different levels on river and canal waterways). You’ve got to work out how you’re going to get up, on your own, with your ropes and tie the boat off, while your boat’s engine is on, ticking over, so it’s driving into the front of the lock. I was running up ladders whilst the water level was rising! It’s quite hairy going down a river in a boat that’s 58 foot! (Leanne laughs). And I did it!’
If I open my gob,
they’ll realise who I am
‘You can change your garden every day. It’s romanticised. It’s very difficult. You’ve got to keep your boat up together. You’ve got to keep it sea-worthy – even though it’s in a canal. You have reports on its seaworthiness. They do surveys every 4 years and you’ve got to get it out of the water every 2 to 3 years to get all the muck off and re-black it. (Re-paint the underside of a boat). And both sides have to be waterproof. You have to have everything in a place and a place for everything. If all the lights fuse, you’ve got to be able to find things in the dark.’
‘Once I was going through Kidderminster, and I got stuck on debris that had been thrown in the canal. There was a load of youngsters on the side of the canal. There were about 10 of them. I thought, “If I open my gob, they’ll realise who I am, as a pre-op trans woman.” I was thinking on my feet, thinking, “How can I get myself out of this situation.” I could do a little bit of Makaton because I was working in care, caring for adults with learning disabilities. (Makaton is a way of communicating that uses symbols, signs and speech). So, I thought, how can I get this group of youths to help me. So, I didn’t open my mouth. I signed instead, gesturing whether they could pull be clear of the debris. As it was, they all helped me! They helped me get round the corner and into the lock. Then two of the lads, who must have been about 19 or 20 years old, asked whether I’d like help going through the lock. I gave them a thumbs up, and they were on my boat then! So, I thought, “Well, I have to keep the pretence going!” I had some chocolate and gave it to them for helping me. They helped me through the lock and waved goodbye. I’m sure that they must have guessed. It all worked out well, or else I could have been lynched – God knows what would have happened. Talk about stress. I thought, “Oh God, I’m putting myself at risk here.” At the time, you see, I wore a wig. It only needed somebody to touch me, and my wig would have slipped! But I thought, “I’ll take my chances.” A bit like a poker player. I thought, “If I keep up this pretence for the right amount of time, they’ll help me.” And it worked. In those sorts of situations where the anxiety and stress kicks in big time, you’ve got to think and dig deep to get out of them.’
They accept me,
that takes away
a lot of the stress
and uncertainty
‘Even the simplest situations can become more difficult or risky when you’re trans. I mean, I get mis-gendered at least once a week, sometimes once a bloody day, depending on which situation I’m in. I was at Tesco’s today and I didn’t get mis-gendered at all. Community is the crux of it. Being part of the community. I go to church; they’ve asked me to be on the PCC (The Parochial Church Council). I’ve been in the village committee. They accept me, that takes away a lot of the stress and uncertainty, because then you’re seen as somebody who contributes.’
You’ve got to
love yourself first,
no matter what
‘I think if you are a trans person, you’ve definitely got to love yourself first, no matter what. You’ve also got to believe in yourself. Whatever you do – and this applies to everyone, trans or not trans: Find a thing that you like to do and keep doing it. Whether its cycling or badminton – don’t give it up because of your gender. Look them straight in the eye and say, “Go on then!” (Leanne beckons with both hands). Life it too short to wait around for people to accept you. Go out and find the people who do accept you. Focus on the positive things. The things you like to do. It’s about destressing yourself. Make things easier for yourself and make that easy route. Find the things you like to do.’
Follow your river
‘I’ve been to Canada twice and I met some Inuit people in Ottawa. One of the people I met told me I was a Two Spirit person. At that time, I had not come out. He read me. I said, “I’m transgender.” He said, “And? If you were in my tribe, you’d be one of the most valued members, because you’re Two Spirit.” I said, “I’d rather be a girl.” He said, “That’s fine, everyone’s valued for their own being. What they give. You are what you are because you’ve had all this experience.” Then we talked about philosophy, and he told me, “Follow your river. Your river is peculiar to you. Don’t try to swim against the current. It won’t work. You follow your path. Sometimes you might go off down a little tributary from the main river and it might lead to a dead end. Just turn around and come back. Go on the way that’s your true path. There will be rapids and still waters. Paddle on down and at your life’s end you’ll return to the sea with everyone else.” That’s a good way of thinking of life. Follow your river.’
Links to Support Services
Stone Wall
A national campaigning organisation which also provides a directory of local services for support and advice for LGBTQ people.
Click here for their website
Phone number- 08000 50 20 20 (Mon-Fri 9:30am - 5:30pm)
Email – info@stonewall.org.uk
Galop
The LGBT+ anti-violence charity, it supports LGBTQ people who have experienced hate crimes, sexual violence, or domestic abuse. They can support you if you have problems with the police or criminal justice system and you can anonymously report hate incidents.
Click here for their website
Phone number – 0800 999 5428
Email – help@galop.org.uk
Mind
A national mental health charity which provides information and support.
Click here for their website
Phone number - 0300 123 3393
Text - 86463
Email - info@mind.org.uk
Samaritans
Samaritans run a free, 24-hour helpline to those struggling with their mental health.
Click here for their website
Phone number - 116 123
Shelter
Provides advice and support to those in urgent need of housing.
Click here for their website
Phone number - 0808 800 4444 (Helpline open between 8am - 8pm on weekdays & 9am - 5pm on weekends)
