In every generation, there are individuals whose journeys carry the weight of both personal struggle and communal resilience. Andrea Christine Brookes is one such voice. Born in 1961 to a mother who was a teacher and a father who served as a Chief Petty Officer in the Royal Navy, Andrea grew up in the English Midlands in what, from the outside, looked like a fairly ordinary upbringing. Yet behind the curtain of a “normal” childhood lay questions of identity that surfaced as early as age seven, when Andrea first began cross-dressing, long before there was public language or cultural understanding for what she was experiencing. Like many trans people of her generation, Andrea entered puberty in a world devoid of resources, where curiosity and self-expression were often stifled by silence, shame, and stereotypes. Still, the urge to live authentically kept resurfacing, a quiet but unshakable truth that refused to be buried. Andrea’s path, however, was not a straight line. She built a successful career in IT, became a wife, and later a widow, and even weathered some of life’s darkest storms, including periods of deep depression and moments of contemplating suicide.
Yet, again and again, life found a way to guide her back toward herself. One such turning point came almost by accident, when she rediscovered a forgotten bag of clothes hidden away in a shed. Slipping them on, she felt the world tilt back into balance, a revelation that marked the beginning of her true life as Andrea. Since New Year’s Eve of 2019, she has not looked back, embracing her womanhood with a clarity and conviction that only comes from hard-won self-acceptance. But Andrea’s story is not only one of survival, it is also one of service. Alongside her IT consultancy and growing jewelry-making business, she has become a visible force for the LGBTQIA+ community in the UK. She serves as Vice Chair of Newbury Pride, South of England Contact and Press & Political Officer for the Beaumont Society, and the organiser of a local support group. She also answers calls on a national support line, offering compassion and guidance to trans people navigating some of the same struggles she once faced alone. At a time when trans rights in the UK are under unprecedented attack, Andrea has taken her lived experience and transformed it into activism, advocacy, and hope. What makes Andrea’s voice particularly compelling is not just her resilience, but her refusal to fade quietly into the background.
She could have chosen the simplicity of living her private life as a woman, but instead she stands in the light, fighting tooth and nail for equality, not just for herself, but for her trans, nonbinary, and intersex siblings, and indeed for anyone whose humanity is questioned. Her story is at once deeply personal and powerfully political, marked by loss, rediscovery, joy, and the kind of hard-earned wisdom that can only be forged through struggle. It is my pleasure to sit down with Andrea today to talk about her journey, her advocacy, and the life she has built as her authentic self.
Monika: Hello Andrea! Thank you for accepting my invitation.
Andrea: Hi Monika, it’s a pleasure.
Monika: For readers meeting you for the first time, could you share a bit about who you are and the journey that brought you here?
Andrea: Well, I was born back in the early '60s, which was a time when being trans just wasn’t acknowledged. In fact, it was before the term “transgender” had even been coined or come into common usage, and in many ways that remains true today. My first inclination that “I was not like other boys” came when I was about 7, playing dress-up with my mother’s clothes. Instead of growing out of it, I kept doing it, even collecting a few items and hiding them away.
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"My first inclination that “I was not like other boys” came when I was about 7." |
Andrea: I remember the first time my mother found out. She didn’t punish me, but she blamed herself, thinking she had failed me as a mother. The shame I felt then caused my first purge, when I threw everything away and swore I would never do it again. Of course, that didn’t last, it never does.
Monika: What was it like navigating puberty and early adulthood without information or support?
Andrea: It was deeply confusing. At that time, there was no accessible information, maybe in scientific circles, but certainly not for ordinary people like me. I had no one to turn to for help, only the constant fear of comments and sneers from kids, and especially from adults and comedians who mocked “poofters” and “homos” with slurs. When people like me were shown, they were always portrayed as perverts or mentally ill.
But I knew I enjoyed the feeling of wearing female clothing, and those sensations became intertwined with the hormonal and physical changes of puberty and the discovery of sexual pleasure. It took decades to separate those things in my mind. Over time, I discovered that I didn’t want to change back afterwards, and I realised I felt more natural and authentic when presenting as a woman.
Monika: Did you try to resist those feelings as you grew older?
Andrea: Yes, many times. I went through occasional purges like so many of us did, convincing myself to “man up” and put away girlish things, but they always crept back. By my mid-thirties, I still hadn’t found a girlfriend, I just couldn’t bring myself to do the chatting up and chasing that was expected of men. My social circle was small, mostly work colleagues. My hobbies, model trains, landscape photography, astronomy, were solitary.
Meanwhile, friends from school were married with children, and I began to see myself as someone who never quite measured up. That’s when my interests started to fade, and I withdrew into myself. I must have been clinically depressed, though I was never diagnosed, and I even made plans to end everything.
Monika: What helped you turn things around during that difficult time?
Andrea: A dear friend noticed something was wrong. She persuaded me to join a men’s club called the Round Table. Ironically, their fancy dress preference was always based on The Rocky Horror Show. I realised I could join in, usually dressing as Magenta, and for the first time, no one was calling me names. That changed things quickly, I became more confident, I learned more about being trans (this was the 90s, when the internet had just appeared), and I even decided I wanted to transition. But I didn’t yet have the courage to speak to my doctor about it.
Monika: That was also when you met your wife, wasn’t it?
Andrea: Yes. She was making an outfit for me for Rocky Horror and insisted on a final fitting. I was nervous because I was wearing knickers and stockings under my clothes, but there was no option I had to strip. She simply looked me up and down and said, “Nice underwear, now try this on.” And that was that. We married the following year and were deeply in love. We spent 19 years and 2 days together before I lost her to illness.
Monika: How did you cope with such a profound loss?
Andrea: Honestly, I didn’t. I slid back into depression and made further plans to end everything. But a protracted hospital stay, mostly alone in a side room due to transfer quarantine rules, gave me time to reflect. I realised my wife would not have wanted me to end my life, and I needed to find a reason to go on. After several false starts, I stumbled across a bag of clothes I had hidden in the shed. They still fit, and when I put them on, I felt alive again. From there, I explored this side of myself more deeply, connected with other trans women’s experiences, and finally everything began to make sense.
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"That feeling, when someone else liked something I had enjoyed making enough to buy it, was so electric that I felt I should do more." |
Monika: When did you decide to officially transition?
Andrea: I finally spoke to my GP and changed my name in January 2020. I couldn’t face the endless NHS waiting times, so I sought private treatment. By September, I had my diagnosis and began HRT. In January 2023, I underwent full GRS surgery and have not regretted a single moment.
Monika: Looking back, how do you see your life journey now?
Andrea: I don’t see the years I spent living as a man as wasted. Every experience shapes who you are today, and I finally like the person I’ve become, the woman, Andrea Christine Brookes. I know I’ve transitioned from one binary identity to another, but I also recognise that’s not the case for all trans people. Through my support line work, I’ve met people who exist across a broad spectrum of identities between male and female. That diversity is part of the beauty of biology and human variation, and every identity is natural, valid, and deserving of respect.
Monika: Growing up in the Midlands with a naval father and teacher mother must have shaped you in unique ways. What’s a childhood memory that still makes you smile?
Andrea: Strangely enough, given the long absences my father spent away in the navy or later working in Algiers, one of the fondest memories I have is of him letting me steer his car around the streets of my hometown while I sat on his lap and he operated the pedals. I don’t remember now, but I would expect his hands were close to the steering wheel the entire time.
Monika: You also mentioned a recurring dream that stayed with you for decades. Could you tell me more about it?
Andrea: Yes, there is another memory that I recounted to my psychiatrist, which is that for many years I had a recurring dream. It always started the same way, even if it developed into many different endings. I was at the front of the school bus talking to the driver, as I often did, but I wasn’t in the Grammar School uniform because I wasn’t a boy. I was a girl, and I was wearing the High School uniform. That dream followed me for many years, well into my early 30s, and I can recall it and the feelings it gave me to this day.
Monika: Many careers begin with a clear plan, but others take shape in unexpected ways. How did your first steps into IT actually come about?
Andrea: It was due to failing my A-levels spectacularly when I bunked off from sixth form too often, and my mother almost frog-marched me to the local careers service, where a company was actually looking for failed A-level students to take on. I ended up in their data processing department. I loved it, as that sort of detailed technical work fitted so well with me.
I passed a couple of college qualifications and worked at that company for five years, before moving on to Plessey in Nottingham for a further five, and Vodafone for 17. During that time I progressed to the lower levels of management but stayed in the technical side of the business, and I ran a small team for many different projects. Then I was made redundant.
Monika: Redundancy can feel like an ending, but often it creates space for new beginnings. How did that turning point shape the next stage of your career?
Andrea: The same friend I mentioned before asked me if I was interested in helping her out on a project that she was working on as a subcontractor, to which I replied, of course. I set up my company and, to be honest, haven’t looked back since. That was very helpful for me, as I could settle my mortgage and fund my transition privately. Now I am looking forward to retirement in the next few years.
Monika: Your career path shows a balance between the technical and the creative. How did you first discover jewelry-making as a passion?
Andrea: I started off making badges to help raise money for Newbury Pride, which I was a member of, and I suppose that was how I started the shop. But badges are only a limited range of stock, so I was looking for some other items I could source or make. I saw a pair of earrings somewhere that I thought were beautiful. They were made from wire with beads on them and intricately shaped. I thought, “I can make those,” so I bought some bits from Amazon and sat down one evening to do my best. It took a couple of attempts before I managed something halfway decent, and then at the next event they sold. That feeling, when someone else liked something I had enjoyed making enough to buy it, was so electric that I felt I should do more. So I did. Then I discovered pin badges and even have some of my own designs that we sell.
Monika: Over time, your craft seems to have evolved in exciting directions. What materials or techniques have you enjoyed experimenting with the most?
Andrea: Then came silver clay, and I fell in love with making organic pure silver pieces by hand. The alchemy, when the form you have just created out of something like putty turns into pure silver under the influence of heat, is magical. Now I’m moving into polymer clay, which is a similar but different material to work with.
My favourite pieces? Probably the last one I made. But I have a couple that I love, the two-headed serpent mounted on two Celtic coins brooch and the silver ring I wear nearly every day are two that stand out. Another one I really enjoyed was the heart-shaped pendant with a snow scene that I made for a Christmas Fair raffle prize. I know the person who won it, and she told me she wore it all through Christmas last year. That is such a wonderful feeling to experience.
Monika: When you’re not consulting or making jewelry, how do you like to unwind? What’s your idea of a perfect day off?
Andrea: I have no understanding of the concept of a day off, LOL. But I suppose it would be listening to music, Country is my pet love, and spending time in my studio, either designing or making something.
Monika: So many of us navigate the roles of wives, mothers, and daughters, often carrying the weight of our pasts and sometimes longing to leave it all behind. Yet, you’ve chosen to embrace your identity with such strength, becoming an advocate for transgender rights and vocal about presenting a positive image of our community in society. In the face of all this, have you ever felt the pull of staying in the shadows, of simply being seen as a woman, without the added layers of being a transgender woman?
Andrea: Oh, most definitely, and if things had not happened the way they did this year, that might very well have been the direction I was heading. I have always had a drive to help people and will listen to anyone’s issues and problems. I answer calls on a national trans helpline, and some of those stories can be traumatic. These stories, and those from other trans people I know and hear of, are so wrong and upsetting that I just cannot sit on the sidelines and do nothing.
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"I have no understanding of the concept of a day off." |
Andrea: I have said before that I was fortunate enough to fund my own transition privately, but so many of our trans siblings are not. I know and fully appreciate how lucky I am, so I advocate for trans rights.
One of the badges I sell in my shop says, “Rights are not pie, more for one does not mean less for you,” and this sums it up for me. We are not demanding rights at the expense of anyone, we are just asking for equality. I also feel that I embody the true spirit of being British, a sense of fair play.
Monika: When misinformation spreads in the media, it can feel overwhelming. How do you personally respond to these narratives?
Andrea: When I see the papers and broadcast media, let alone fetid objects like Twitter, spreading lies and misinformation about trans people, it makes me angry, and I need to respond. But I always try to respond with facts and data. This year has seen some of the worst transgressions against trans people in UK legal and political history.
The Supreme Court decided that it knows what is meant by “woman” better than scientists do, with a corrupt Equalities Commission jumping onto this ruling with an already prepared set of guidelines. Their purpose is no less than to remove trans people, especially women, from society, and to hell with the consequences for us or for other women. Most of the people who have been challenged when using single-sex spaces have been cis women who have been gender non-conformant cis women
END OF PART 1
All photos: courtesy of Andrea Christine Brookes.
© 2025 - Monika Kowalska
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