Monika: Do you think you realized at the time how much of yourself you were expressing through her?
Tina: Diana interpreted those gestures simply as affection, and naturally, it deepened her feelings toward me. Our relationship grew more intense emotionally, and eventually we crossed boundaries that neither of us was mature enough to navigate. When she became pregnant, everything spiraled very quickly. We were both underage, completely unprepared, and terrified.
Her parents were understandably furious, and I became the target of that anger. Within a short time, the pregnancy was ended, and I was forbidden from seeing her again. It was a painful, confusing chapter of my life. I felt guilt, fear, and a deep sense of loss, not only for the relationship, but for the version of myself I was trying to understand. That experience taught me hard lessons about responsibility, communication, and the consequences of stepping into adult situations far too young. It stayed with me for years and shaped how I approached every relationship afterward. I never found myself in that situation again, and I carried those lessons with me into adulthood.
Monika: After finishing school, what path did your life take, especially given your artistic talents?
Tina: Well, after finishing school, I didn’t really have any formal qualifications. The only skills I had were in art, drawing, sketching, painting, but I knew I had to make a living. I thought about going to college for hairdressing, maybe doing an apprenticeship, because that felt like something I could enjoy. But after a lot of thought, I realized that just getting a job was the most important thing at the time. Like many of my friends in Nottingham, I ended up heading into the coal mines. I started training at Moorgreen Colliery and then moved to my local pit, Gedling Colliery. I spent my days several hundred feet underground, about seven miles from the pit bottom. It was a harsh, dark world, and it felt worlds apart from how I felt inside. Yes, I had become a coal miner, but in many ways, it was completely disconnected from the person I really was.
Monika: How did that contrast between your work and your inner self affect you?
Tina: Eventually, I left the mines and stepped into the 1970s, a decade that brought music, color, and a new job at a school supplies company called Sisson & Parker in Nottingham. This was the era of glam rock, with bands like Mud and The Sweet, where styles were wild and outrageous. My hair, long and jet black down to my waist, fit right in. I got a lot of compliments from girls and women about how good it looked, though they had no idea the real reason it was so important to me.
Monika: And then you met Jane…
Tina: Ah, Jane… weekends were spent at Mablethorpe, a small seaside town in Lincolnshire, and that’s where I met her. I was completely smitten. Jane lived in a bungalow near the Golden Sands Holiday Village, and her parents ran a small business, a little railway that ran around Victoria Park.
|
| At Busch Gardens in Florida. |
We got to know each other quite well and spent many happy hours together, but, of course, she never knew about my gender-related struggles. Before long, the same old patterns started to surface, the clothes and shoes thing returned, just as it had with Diana. Jane, understandably, thought it was just because I loved her. After months together, we got engaged, which in hindsight was probably a bit impulsive, but the feelings were real, and at the time it seemed right.
Monika: At that stage, did you feel torn between love and honesty?
Tina: As October approached, Jane decided to visit Nottingham to see the famous Goose Fair. She planned to stay in a flat borrowed from a friend’s father, but when she arrived, it was a wreck, almost like a bomb site. I had to scramble to find her somewhere else, eventually finding the Woodville Hotel, which wasn’t too pricey, given my wages.
It was during this period that my gender feelings started demanding my attention again. Deep down, I knew the only honest and fair thing was to end our relationship. I couldn’t burden Jane with the reality of my struggles. Telling her was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, both of us ended up in floods of tears.
In the weeks that followed, I sank into what could best be described as depression. But I knew it was the right thing, out of love and respect for her. It was heart-wrenching, the kind of pain that feels like the end of the world, but it was a turning point in realizing that living authentically meant making incredibly difficult choices.
Monika: After Jane, things seemed to become even heavier for you emotionally. What was that period of your life like?
Tina: Several months passed, and honestly, I just sank deeper and deeper into myself. Life felt incredibly cruel at that point. I could already see the pattern forming, any relationship that might come my way would likely end the same way Diana’s and Jane’s had. That realization was devastating. I felt doomed because of my gender situation. I knew loneliness was going to bite hard, and it did. It carried its own kind of punishment, one that eats away at you slowly. I tried to pull myself together, to somehow climb out of that dark place, but there was one truth I couldn’t escape, my inner femininity was always going to win. At some point, I just stopped fighting it and let it take over who I was.
Monika: How did you manage to keep any sense of self during such a difficult time?
Tina: Oddly enough, despite all of this, the 1970s were still a reasonably good time for me in some ways. The glitz and glamour of that era suited me perfectly. Platform shoes, outrageous fashion, bold styles, it all gave me a little room to breathe. I started wearing small items of feminine clothing in public, very subtly. Nothing obvious, nothing that would raise questions from people who knew me, but just enough to feel a little closer to myself.
|
| Happy New Year 2019. |
The years rolled by, and I carried that inner turmoil with me every single day. Looking back, it was an incredibly frustrating time. There was no clear path, no roadmap, no obvious way forward. But anything I could get my hands on, newspapers, magazines, television programs, I studied intensely. I absorbed every scrap of information, hoping it would help me understand myself better and show me a way toward the life I desperately wanted.
Monika: Was there a moment when you felt truly inspired to see that your own journey could be possible?
Tina: Oh, absolutely. I’ll never forget the day an article appeared in The Sun that completely captivated me. It was a center-page spread about a boy from Costessey in Norfolk named Barry Cossey. He was transgender, struggling with his gender identity just like I was, and the article detailed his transition to becoming Caroline Cossey, who later went by Tula.
Reading about her journey was like holding up a mirror to my own story. Caroline had faced the same fears and obstacles I felt trapped by, yet she had the courage and determination to go to London as a female dancer, persuade a doctor to prescribe her hormones, and eventually undergo gender reassignment surgery at the famous Charing Cross Hospital.
Monika: How did reading about Tula make you feel about your own possibilities?
Tina: Her book, Tula: I Am Woman, became my obsession. I read it over and over, practically memorized it; I even managed to lose my copy eventually, but it didn’t matter. She had become someone I deeply admired. Tula went on to become a household name, modeling for calendars, including the famous Pirelli calendar, and even appeared in the James Bond movie For Your Eyes Only with Roger Moore.
I won’t lie, I was envious. She had achieved so much, accomplished what I dreamed of, and probably gone further than I would ever go. But it also made me realize something vital: life is only as good as you make it, and if you have a dream, you either chase it, or let life slip away. That was the moment I knew I had to stop waiting and start taking steps to become the woman I truly was inside.
Monika: When you were in your 20s and facing all those failed relationships, what finally made you reach out for help?
Tina: Well, by the early 1980s, I’d gone through several more failed relationships, and I was honestly at a loss about what to do with myself. I decided to see my doctor, who turned out to be incredibly understanding and knowledgeable in a variety of medical fields. I tried my best to explain my predicament, and he was sympathetic. He said something that stuck with me forever: “If that’s the person you are inside, nothing and nobody is going to change you. You’ll be this way for the rest of your life.”
Monika: What did it mean to hear that from a medical professional?
Tina: He arranged for a counselor to come into the surgery weekly, someone who specialized in these kinds of issues. And for a short while, I finally felt like I had some support. But then, life intervened, my doctor retired, and the counselor moved away. My mother was struggling with her own health, and I couldn’t risk upsetting her with my own challenges, so my counseling came to a halt, and along with it, my dream of transitioning felt like it had ended too.
After a few months, a new doctor arrived, and I decided to take the chance and start over, explaining my feelings from scratch. That led to an appointment at Mapperley Hospital. I walked in hoping for understanding, but instead, I was faced with two female doctors, or maybe psychiatrists, and rather than listening, they ridiculed and mocked me.
It was devastating. My ego took a real battering, and I left feeling more turmoil than ever, struggling to comprehend how people could be so dismissive of another human being simply trying to live their truth.
|
| On a sunny day in August 2020. |
Monika: After that difficult experience with the doctors, what was your next step in finding support?
Tina: Well, feeling pretty lost and unsure of what to do next, I remembered a helpline number I’d found in a directory. It was for a transgender support group based in Nottingham called The Chameleon Group. I gave one of the managers a call just to talk, and they were incredibly welcoming. They told me I could come along to their Thursday evening meeting at Wollaton Grange Community Centre. I’ll admit, I was nervous the first night I went. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but as soon as I walked in, I felt a sense of ease I hadn’t felt in years. These people understood me. They had their own struggles and inner turmoil, just like I did. For the first time, I felt like I might have found a place where I could truly belong.
That first night, someone asked me what my female name was. The first name that came to mind was Tina. And twenty years later, through a deed poll name change, Tina became my legal name, the one I’ve proudly used ever since.
Monika: At the same time you met Lin. How did you met her and how that relationship impacted your life?
Tina: Ah, yes! That all started one evening. I decided to go out to a local pub that hosted a singles night called Club 29 at the Sherwood Inn in Sherwood. That night, I met Lin, and we clicked immediately. It wasn’t long before we started dating and seeing each other regularly in the evenings. Lin was a special person, slightly older than me, but it really didn’t matter. We just seemed right for each other. After a little while, I confided in her about my Candida problem, and she offered all the support she could give. That moral boost was massive, it really helped me take control of a situation that had felt overwhelming and threatening to my life. I was able to return to work full-time, still managing the diet and being careful, but I knew I had gotten the better of it.
As our relationship blossomed, it became clear we were made for each other. But, of course, at the back of my mind was my lifelong struggle with my gender identity, and I just couldn’t bring myself to share that with Lin yet. We started traveling together, and our first holiday was to Lanzarote in the Canary Islands. That trip holds a very special place in my heart, not only was it my first trip abroad, but I also got to share it with someone truly special. Those memories are ones I’ll cherish forever.
Monika: When did you decide to take your transition seriously in a legal and medical sense?
Tina: With my hormone treatment progressing steadily, I knew it was time to think seriously about doing things properly, legally and within the medical system. I decided to book an appointment with Russell Reid at the London Institute on Earl’s Court Road. I felt confident that, with his guidance, my transition would move forward in a far more structured and supported way.
Just as importantly, it gave me peace of mind to know everything was above board, and that being under the care of a reputable gender psychiatrist made the possibility of surgery feel more realistic and secure.
|
| Plants are what I do and what I am good at growing. |
Monika: Did that sense of security last once your private life became public?
Tina: Well, events at work soon took an unexpected turn. One day, I was at work and involved in a mobile phone conversation with a friend of mine from Derby, Claire. We were discussing her upcoming facial feminisation surgery with Dr Suporn in Chonburi, Thailand, which was planned for later that year.
Unknown to me at the time, one of my colleagues overheard the conversation. Before I realised what had happened, word had begun to spread, and within a short space of time much of the firm had, to some degree, become aware of my personal business and my transition.
It was not how I had planned for things to come out, and it left me feeling exposed, but it marked a turning point in my journey, whether I was ready for it or not.
Monika: What happened after your secret started circulating at work?
Tina: The very next day, my boss Dave, who had been my friend and employer for 16 years, called me into the boardroom. He wanted to know about the rumours he’d been hearing and asked if they were true. I just said yes, they were. So, at that point, my secret was completely out.
In a way, that phone call helped me tackle a tricky problem I would’ve had to deal with later anyway. Dave asked what my intentions were, and I calmly explained that I wanted to transition while staying on the job and eventually move on to surgery and gender reassignment. I went into as much detail as I could, and I must say, he looked pretty shocked!
Monika: How did he respond when you asked about transitioning at work?
Tina: He said it depended on whether I could handle myself, especially dealing with the public at the sales counter. But he agreed it was okay if I could manage, and hearing that was a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. It meant I could move forward with my transition while keeping my job, which was critical for funding things like surgery.
Of course, the next big question was how my colleagues would react. Over the following days, I had private chats with each of them individually to gauge their reactions. Most were supportive, even praising my courage. Naturally, there were a couple of people who objected, bigotry, really, and I knew they’d be a thorn in my side in the coming months.
But overall, knowing that the majority accepted me and wished me well made all the difference. My reply to those who encouraged me? “If you want something as badly as I wanted my transition, the drive to succeed completely outweighs fear and worry.” It felt like the department manager was about to become the department manageress, and I was thrilled.
END OF PART 2
All photos: courtesy of Tina Marie Phillips.
© 2025 - Monika Kowalska
No comments:
Post a Comment