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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.
When my friends and I started to gain a bit more independence around the age of 15 we began to visit Dublin. We couldn’t do it as much as we would have liked because you needed money, but we did it every now and again. We would get the unreliable bus service from Gorey to Dublin which is little over an hour’s journey. I used to adore these trips. I’ve always had an appreciation for the city. I would look at pictures of New York and London on my laptop and get thrills in the core of my stomach. I always knew that I’d end up there. When researching colleges I looked at no options outside of Dublin. That was always where I needed to be. I adore Dublin. I’m not comparing it to New York or London but it is a good compromise for now.
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.
Special thanks to Jenny Murphy Byrne, a friend from Wexford (shocker) who assured me that this post wasn’t offensive.
I know this is a strange topic to discuss in such detail but let’s talk about why I hate it when people say that I’m from Wexford.
For anyone outside of Ireland who may not know, Wexford is a rural county that was in my experience, shall we say, quite constricting. People often make the mistake of saying that I’m from Wexford and when I correct them by saying that I’m not, they roll their eyes. But why am I so adamant that I’m not from there?
I meet Cry Harridan in the booth of a rustic style bar. The first thing I notice is that the three people I’m sitting with are breathtakingly beautiful. Their looks, their style, their mysterious vibe, it’s even more captivating in person. Prior to meeting them, I was extremely impressed with the brand and image they’ve built for themselves. I was delighted to see that they possess the same image face-to-face. I’m hesitant to label it as effortless, as that suggests they don’t work hard, but I definitely get the sense that their brand comes naturally to them.
Viewers have applauded transgender teen David Beattie for his bravery speaking about his transition on The Late Late Show.
Some may the teenager recognise from Vogue William’s documentary on the trans community where she talked to many about their transitions.
“I’ve never had bad experiences – but when I transferred to secondary school, it was very different,” he said.
The Late Late Show line-up currently is, has always been and probably will always be a topic of conversation throughout the nation each week.
And this week is much the same, but for all the right reasons.
In the midst of a time of change, of old laws, new freedoms and less secrets – we shall all collectively be meeting Irish transgender teen, David Beattie, who is in the midst of transitioning to female, on Tubridy’s couch on Friday.
Living with people is not always like that West Coast Cooler ad where they all dance to Haim in their sweatpants. There are many ways to annoy or offend your roommates and I will not pretend to know them all. But here are some of the lessons that I’ve learned through living with different people for the last two years.
Hello you two. How are you? Tired? You certainly have reason to be. Right now we’re on a bus and I have you up on a seat (which is so not classy) but I can feel you quivering with nervous anticipation because we have to run to an appointment and we’re late. You don’t ever really get to relax. And I’m sorry for that.
In 2016 I wanted to be as busy as possible. And I’ve certainly succeeded. But I’m afraid that has been to your detriment. It’s not that we ever had that much relaxation time before, but this year we have been constantly running to appointments, college, events and all the other stuff we do. I also have a habit of getting drunk and going out dancing which I don’t think you particularly enjoy.
Plans for DIT to include gender neutral toilets in the new Grangegorman campus have been met with praise, but some students are concerned that there are no such facilities in other DIT campuses.
The new campus will include accessible toilets in each of the buildings, and all future buildings on the new campus will also have gender neutral toilets as well as traditional toilets.
David Beattie, a second year Journalism student based in the Aungier Street campus, who is currently in the process of gender transitioning, says that students should feel comfortable while attending their present designated campus.
Anyone who knows me, knows that I spent ten years of my life, from the time that I was eight until I was 18, living in the country. Something that strikes me from those years is that rural Ireland still has so far to come in terms of diversity. I loved and continue to love the countryside, but it never really loved me. Although I always had supportive friends and family, harassment on the streets was something that I faced on a daily basis. My friends from Dublin try to understand, but I don’t really think they can. That’s why I so value being in the company of Catherine Devane. She’s a student, a blogger and one of my best friends. I first met her in college. She had lived her whole life in rural Ireland, specifically Dingle, only coming to Dublin at 18 and observing a huge difference. I was eager to pick her brain about that difference.
There is a phrase that I absolutely despise for many reasons. It’s all to do with people being unnecessarily hard on themselves (something that annoys me to no end). I hate when people say that they’ve gone backwards when it comes to their personal progress.
What a toxic mind-set it is to believe that we can go backwards. Because there is no backwards in life. And that’s an undeniable fact.
It’s true that sometimes we can get worse or our progress can be hindered, but I really don’t believe that we should label that as going backwards.
It was quite an odd experience when I first moved to Dublin. It was a dream come true to make it up here and to live independently, but I also had to deal with some unexpected issues. I had been suffering slightly before I moved to my apartment. There were lots of big and little things that I wanted to escape and put behind me. I soon found out that I couldn’t run away from these issues. I also had to adjust to spending the majority of my time alone, (something that I didn’t really struggle with but had to become accustomed to). Sitting here, flicking through my journals I have found this entry from the first few weeks of my life here:
The first thing you notice about David Beattie is his height. At 6’2, he towers over lesser mortals. The next is his stylish dress sense. What is less obvious is that David is an articulate and sensitive 18-year-old, who has recently self-published an autobiography about growing up trans in Ireland.