BEHIND BARS

Watching the little girls in my class running around in their dresses, their long hair flowing behind them, I knew that was supposed to be me.

But I was sat there in my shorts, my hair cut short–and I was a little boy instead. Just five years old at the time, born Rothmoony Sdeung, I already knew I was in the wrong body. At eight years old, my dad left, leaving me and my mum Nathloun, now 50, on our own.

Life was hard already, but growing up feeling I was in the wrong body made it even harder for me.

Whenever someone referred to me as ‘boy’, ‘he’ or ‘him’, it stung because I knew that wasn’t who I was.

It caused great confusion and eventually depression for me as a teen.

I’d no idea why I felt that way,