Monika: Do you remember the first time you met a transgender woman in person? What was that experience like, and how did it make you feel?
Marianne: This is a whole story, but I was 16 years old and my friend had been asked to DJ at a party in Manchester and he asked if I wanted to help. He was a lot older than me, I have to say. Unbeknown to me and him, as it turned out, it was in the gay village in Manchester, in a bar that is still there, the Thompson Arms. If you wanted crisps you had to go to the public bar downstairs and my friend sent 16-year-old me with some cash to buy crisps. Imagine my surprise when I saw trans women just sat at the bar or mingling in the bar itself. It blew my mind, but at the same time, scared me half to death, because if I didn’t play it cool, people might notice my interest and I would have been outed! I went home that night with mixed feelings. It was exciting to experience trans women this way, but I was a working class kid from a small mill town in the Peak District, and that life felt a million miles out of reach.
Monika: Choosing a name is such a deeply personal decision, one that can hold layers of significance and meaning. How did you come to choose your name? Does it carry a special resonance for you, perhaps representing a part of your journey or embodying a particular feeling or aspiration?
Marianne: I wanted a name that was unmistakably female, and I toyed with numerous names when I was younger. However, after I had come out to Vicki we discussed this together and she suggested I use her middle name, Marianne. She loved the name and felt it wasn’t used enough, and so I started using this beautiful name and it has stuck.
Monika: When you finally began transitioning, you were already in your fifties. Was there ever a moment when you thought, “Is it too late for me?” And what eventually made you realise that it wasn’t?
Marianne: Most of the people I knew who transitioned over the years were certainly north of 40 when they transitioned, but like me, many were in their 50s, so it wasn’t something I gave a lot of thought to. I had been accused of transitioning long before I took any major steps and in truth, I see it as though I was preparing for an eventuality, the only issue was when this would happen. I feel so privileged to have achieved my transition because for many years I honestly believed people from my background could never live openly as a transgender woman. Hey, but here I am!
Monika: Your own transition and your professional work eventually became intertwined. What was it like counselling other transgender people while you were still finding your own way through transition?
Marianne: For me, I had a history of living as a transgender woman even if I wasn’t transitioning. I knew from an early age, I came out to Vicki aged 19 and was freely expressing my inner woman openly within the marital home, and we would spend weekends and even holidays where I was free to live openly as female. Most of the people I see in the therapy room have no history, and those that have, have been on their own navigating this very powerful need to be female, or male or non-binary, so my transition story is unique to me.
What is challenging for all trans therapists is holding space now, with all the media attention and political debate which has led to the EHRC guidance. What is affecting my clients affects me. In the early days there was a lot to celebrate, political will was Gender Recognition reform, society was moving in the right direction. I just have to look after myself emotionally and practise self-care and stay on top of my mental health, because my clients need a strong counsellor to hold the space for them.
Monika: When you came out, did your mother embrace you as her daughter? And do you feel any connection to her in the way you look, carry yourself, or even in your style and mannerisms?
Marianne: So, my parents died while I was in my 40s, and so did my best friend. It was a tough time, so sadly neither my mother nor my father ever knew. I want to say, ‘God forbid I’m like my mother’, as much as I loved her. She had a very different world view to me and she lived a very different life. At her funeral we had a book of condolences which all her friends and family members filled in and wrote memories of her. I didn’t identify her as the woman they all knew. She was a really good mother when I was younger. I wasn’t an easy child as I was a live wire, but she taught me all the basics I needed in life and, as much as my style was a world away from hers as we both grew older, her wardrobe had been my early exploration of female fashion.
Monika: Your wife, children and wider family had to experience your transition alongside you. Was there a particular reaction from someone close to you that hurt you, surprised you or, perhaps, touched you more deeply than you expected?
Marianne: I’m going to say my brother. He is 8 years younger than myself and when he left school, I found him his first job and up until 2021, he worked alongside me. His connection with me has always been strong and I wasn’t sure how he would feel about his ‘older brother’ being his older sister. But the relationship with him, his wife and my 4 nephews is as strong as ever.
Monika: I remember the time right after my transition, it was pure euphoria. My closet is still full of dresses and shoes that I literally bought by the dozens back then, and I must have tried on hundreds. I felt like I had to make up for all those years that were taken from me. Did you feel the same way?
Marianne: I love clothing, I love shopping, what can I say. These days I am less impulsive, but I still have a full winter and summer wardrobe. I enjoy style changes and I just love being able to go to the wardrobe and be spoiled for choice and not be picking a black T-shirt and jeans out, as I had done for most of my life.
Monika: Did you ever feel pressure to meet a certain ideal of femininity, like I did by trying to look like the women around me? And did that pressure become easier to resist as you became more comfortable with yourself?
Marianne: Despite all the exploration I did throughout my life, when I started to transition I noticed I was not just knocking down a facade of maleness, I was building a facade of femaleness, and honestly, this felt equally uncomfortable. I felt I had to dress, behave and say all the right words or else I would be invalidated. Through self-reflection and counselling I saw what was happening very early on and stopped trying to ‘be a woman’ and concentrated on being me. A wise old queen said to me once, ‘It’s a fine line between being a woman and mimicking a woman’, and I think this is a trap that is easy to fall into if we are insecure about our place in society.
Monika: Many of us feel the pressure to “pass” as women, and even after surgeries, society keeps judging us. How do you personally deal with the outside world’s expectations?
Marianne: Before I ever left my home facing the world and allowing myself to be seen as female, I agonised about passing and honestly, I would have done it 5 years earlier if it hadn’t been for those fears. Eventually I made peace with the fact I am trans and if that means people see me as a transgender woman, that’s OK. As it happens, I don’t say this easily. I don’t know if I pass, or if people don’t care, but it’s the last thing I worry about these days. Accepting I was transgender and not cis made a huge difference to me and lifted a lot of shame off my shoulders.
Monika: You began hormone therapy at 56. What surprised you most about transitioning at that age, whether physically, emotionally or simply in the way you suddenly found yourself looking at your own life?
Marianne: To answer this properly, I socially transitioned 3 years before I commenced hormone therapy, thanks to the NHS waiting lists. My life is socially quieter, I have fewer friends, and I don’t always know where I fit socially if I am honest, because most women have evolved into their life over the entire life. I haven’t had that privilege. I spent so much of my life mirroring men and thought being popular and respected meant I was getting it right, but my life now is family focused and work focused, and that brings me contentment. There is nothing I can’t do, nowhere I can’t go, I’m able to live a full life without fear. I have a rich life despite my world being a little smaller, all because I’m not following anyone else’s lead, I’m not mirroring anyone else’s behaviour. Transitioning meant I could just be an authentic me and it’s wonderful.
Monika: After spending so much time helping other transgender people navigate healthcare, what was it like becoming a patient yourself and experiencing the NHS gender-care system from the other side?
Marianne: I don’t know if you know, but when I worked at GenderGP I had access to the care they provided. However, I decided to stay on the NHS pathway because I felt I needed to know what this was like. So I have had two perspectives of care and honestly, that puts me in a unique position to comment on the NHS model of care that many private services use, and the informed consent model of care that GenderGP, and now Anne Health, use. That would be a whole separate interview, but needless to say, I feel trans people deserve choice and that’s why I am passionate about transgender healthcare.
Monika: You have witnessed an enormous change in the transgender world, from the Britain of your youth to the visibility we have today. What do you think younger trans women understand about their lives that your generation could not have imagined, and what do you think they sometimes take for granted?
Marianne: This question has me thinking, because I love that we as a community are more visible and connecting with other transgender people is so much easier with social media. Young people are better informed about gender diversity because of this and can explore a whole spectrum of gender in a way my generation couldn’t. Despite the government’s best efforts we have better access to care, although it is private healthcare, and it’s more affordable than ever. But the visibility has brought with it a culture war that is very bloody, and something that, despite my generation being left to our own devices, we never truly faced anything like this. As Oscar Wilde said, ‘There is only one thing worse than being talked about, and that’s not being talked about.’ I do believe we are closer than ever to being valued in society more than we ever have been, but it’s coming at a cost, and it has to be worth the fight! I’m not sure this answers anything, but these are my thoughts.
Monika: Many trans women are writing their memoirs these days. Have you ever thought about writing your own book, and if so, what would its central message be?
Marianne: I have been asked this question many times and honestly, if I was to write a book, I would want it to be full of good humour and good spirit. I would want it to be hopeful and joyous. My concern at the moment is that it might come across as patronising in this current climate and, given my work, I see too much hardship and shame, so I don’t feel the market would be ready for my memoirs! My life has not been a linear journey, but all the above have been present despite everything.
Monika: Finally, what’s next for you? What dreams and goals are you working toward now, and is there still another Marianne waiting to surprise us?
Marianne: My work at Anne Health and in my private practice with Evolve Online Counselling is important to me and it would be fantastic that I am able to be part of what hopefully will become a legacy for all who are involved, as none of it has been easy, but the rewards make everything worth it. However, long term I dream of retiring and dropping off the radar and enjoying my womanhood in a more private and sedate manner. If there was anything else before this dream could manifest, I love doing my podcast and writing my blogs. If I could make a career of this I would happily pursue it.
END OF PART 2
All photos: courtesy of Marianne Oakes.
© 2026 - Monika Kowalska



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