Now that I’ve made my ebook “Who Cares? Life for an Irish Transgender Teen” free to the public (you can download the full thing here), I’ve decided to publish the chapters here on my website. Below is a chapter from this book which was published in April 2016.
I think that it’s so important to embrace and recognise your wild side as a part of you. I love the idea of a spontaneous life and try to put it into practice as much as I can. I genuinely think that I’ve managed pretty well so far. Wildness really only became important to me in the Winter of 2014, the time that I seem to have referred to many times throughout the course of this book. Up until this time I think I had been pretty wild. I’ve spoken about the numerous parties that I used to attend and the times that my friends and I would drink in fields, on the beach and in our local pub but after my heart was broken, I had a sudden desire to go completely wild. Thankfully I kept this desire somewhat under control because it had the potential to become really dangerous. Using alcohol to mask pain is no laughing matter and I understand that a lot more now than I did then.
Let’s Catch Up: A new book, a feminist youtube series and a night out from hell.
Read part one here.
Finally, I spotted my friends getting into the club ahead of me and I knew that they’d immediately be running for the bathroom. I wasn’t mad. I didn’t expect them to plait their legs and wait for me to finally join the queue 🙂 where I could pay the entry fee.
A note on entry fees: They’re stupid and I do my very best not to ever pay them. Sometimes I even succeed.
When I paid the entry fee 🙂 and got into the club, the hunt began to find my friends, but first I had to pee. I navigated my way to the bathrooms down in the basement 🙂 of the club and was confronted with a queue that I swear was almost the size of the one I’d just left :). I summoned all my strength to both hold my bladder and to not scream into the massive crowd in front of me and I’m proud to say that I succeeded.
After my last college exam, I went for drinks with two of my friends. We discussed how much we were going to miss each other over the Summer months (as is standard at end of year drinks) and we tried to make a pact to meet up every two weeks.
As I’m sure you know and I’m sure you’ve been thinking, these kind of pacts very rarely work, but does this mean that you shouldn’t make them? We acknowledged that it would be tough, but we each expressed a desire to meet up and held our glasses up to toast a Summer of actually seeing one another.
That is how, a week later, I ended up going on a night out with my two friends, something that I was happy to do.
Monday. I get up early to edit episode two of “Tangerine Dreams.” After working on it for about an hour, I schedule it to go up on Wednesday. I then leave to go to college dressed in a nice outfit. After attending lectures, my friends and I get ready in one of the college bathrooms. We then walk down to a Mexican restaurant. We sit in a booth eating delicious food, drinking prosecco and chatting to one another. There’s also a lot of shameless picture taking. I’m honoured to be surrounded by all of my friends and I immensely enjoy their company. It’s so nice that everyone has made the effort to attend my birthday dinner. The restaurant then turns into a sort of nightclub with a lot of dancing and drinking and loud music. After a few hours, we all pile into a taxi and set off to travel to my apartment. My friends order a Chinese takeaway while I head straight for my bed.
Thinking back on it, my first encounter with Róisin Chapman was on a night out. She was bubbly, very funny and extremely approachable. We became fast friends and have stayed that way ever since. What I didn’t notice that night was that Róisin didn’t have a drink in her hand. In fact, I didn’t notice until after we had been on a few nights out together. I don’t know why I’m surprised really, it’s not as though it would be something that would stick out. But Róisin only spoke to me about it when I asked her. She needed no validation, no reassurance and no one’s opinion. That was something that I truly loved. The ability to do something without making a fuss.