There is something that I have not told you; not in Resett, on my blog, or on Facebook, or any other place. To put it straight, I have not told it in public since I was 17 years old. I know, however, that rumours are flourishing and I have arrived at the conclusion that I must take hold of my own story. The story is mine, I am me, and only I and my very closest related really know it.
I am far more than what the eye can spot. I was born 7 October, 1992 and my parents were so proud and happy to beget a beautiful and very extroverted son. That’s right; a son. When I started walking and talking, my parents quickly noted that something was not quite right. All my life, I have been extremely independent, and I did not fear getting out in the world and talk to people already when I was just a few years old. My parents often strived to keep me back. I was totally fearless.
Already as very little I was extremely expressive, and now that I am an adult I notice what my parents spotted when I see old pictures or films portraying me as a child. My gestures, my way of moving, my facial expressions, and my being, contrasted strongly with the obvious masculinity of my brother. My parents knew at an early stage that something was wrong; naturally they did not, however, have any clue regarding the facts of the matter. My parents had o idea, but they have accepted that I must take this lead and that I took the consequence of it as an adult. My Mom and my Dad love me.
I do not live with the illusion that I am a hundred per cent female. I realise that which I am, what chromosomes I have, and I am long since comfortable with it. However, I have had to live as a woman to avoid living my life indisposably. As long as I can remember, people have treated me as a female because I have always looked like one. Even as a child, strangers told me that I had nothing to do in a men’s room; to which I agreed, and my mother’s friends were perplexed when they met me; thy ha heard Mommy say that she had only sons, this was before we knew. In fact, I am extremely lucky; I have gotten off easily because I blessed with a feminine appearance and silhouette. I have not had to go through numerous surgeries to feel presentable, nor have I thought that I am «born in the wrong body»; even though there obviously were certain things I did not bear living with.
I have gone through a completely correcting treaty; so to me, the issue is really laid dead. I have left it behind and have vigour to create attention and conscience to issues essential to everybody and not just to a small and weird minority.
Trans-sexualism or sexual dysphoria is a mental disorder; there is no doubt about that. I am mentally disordered. However, that does not imply that I cannot live a complete life, that I cannot take on responsibility, that I cannot be more than just this mental disorder. I have no intention of letting it limit me; that’s why I do not talk about it. That the reason why I wish that I was not forced to address it.
To sit and talk of «my identity» and gender is something I associate with a quite different kind of activist from myself and my like-minded ones. I find it caricatured and narcissistic. Furthermore, I am afraid of being placed in a box. I do not want to be a public person based on my background. Mostly, I want to talk about quite other things; except when I criticise LGBT, of course.
Some of the worst I know of are those claiming to be another gender than man and woman; people who invent another gander just because they are not hundred per cent masculine or feminine. In my experience, these people who are extremely focused on their alleged group identities, most often are rather dull persons and have to pretend that they are special in some way or other. There are also some who produce a distortion of what I have been through. They utilise my suffering to create a kind of degenerated trend where one thinks that just because one has a beard and nail polish, one is somewhere in between man and woman, or some entirely new gender identity. I have always known that there are only two genders.
Know that I am still me. I stand for that which I have always stood for, I will continue to be an uncompromising critic of mass immigration and multiculture, and I will always promote the right of the Norwegian people to have their own nation. Also, I will always be the very first to criticise the excesses of the LGBT movement; it is exactly their exaggerated, fact resistant, in-your-face activism that make it difficult for people like me to be straightforward.
I cannot recommend anyone to do as I did. Even to most who think that they are «born in the wrong body», surgery is no solution. Only a very small minority in our society is stricken by real sexual dysphoria. It is no choice; it is extremely straining in a way that others cannot even imagine. Consequently, it must not be normalised. I am not normal. To be like me, is abnormal, which does not imply that it is something wrong in it or that I am not o live suitably. I am rather unique and no threat to the survival of humanity. It is, however, not this way the average person ought to be. Then, there would have been something terribly wrong in our society.
Unfortunately, it seems that the LGBT movement tries to push trans-sexualism onto our children long before they are even thinking of gender and sexuality. Some children wish they were the other gender for some time; then most get over it. As one who has gone through all of this, I consider it as child abuse to introduce correction of gender to small children who not yet know what is up or down and begin at an early stage to tell them that their idea of being the opposite gender is in accordance with reality. Children do not know of anything else. To most, this experience is a phase.
By me it lasted, and I do not doubt that I did the right thing when I went the whole way. I understand perfectly well that to others it might seem macabre, but in fact I was far happier afterwards. I also believe, however, that I am an extremely unique case. What I did is absolutely not normal. It is, and must remain, a very last solution to an extremely small minority, even among those who in different ways strive with their identity. There is a reason for the high rate of suicides, also for those who have gone through surgery. Many should simply never have been operated on. Such surgery is extremely demanding to body and psyche to go through. For me, it was completely right and I no longer suffer from dysphoria. I do not feel captured in the wrong body; quite the opposite. I feel that I am united to my boy and my silhouette. I feel like I am living in a way that has always been quite natural to me, instinctively, not least regarding the romantic aspects of life.
Most of all I just want to be me and dedicated to the questions I focus upon. I do not at all identify with the notion of transgenderism. I am no activist; I do not at all regard myself as part of the extremely politicised and left wing LGBT movement. I detest talking about myself as a trans-sexual, and I see no reason to do so. I have no need of any such labels. I am Maria Zähler, I identify with my burkean conservatism, my excellent nation, Norway, my family and all my friends, the Norwegian people surrounding me, for whom I wish a good and secure future. I identify with the society that has allowed me to prosper in freedom; a society worth fighting for. Most of all, I identify with those sharing these values.
What do I expect from the world when revealing this? Nothing. You are free to label me exactly what you want to. I have greater concerns than to focus on what others think of my gender. I do not care if somebody thinks that I am no woman and I have no problems with facing the truth and take biology for what it is. Being a «public person», I perfectly well stand up to the fact that others may have their own opinion.
The whole story is a long one and I get back to it sometime later. Much has been hurting and difficult, but it all ended up in triumph. I had to let this out now, to avoid living life in fear of rumours and to avoid leaving the ownership, of my story to strangers who do not know even the half of it, or know what really happened. I will have the ownership of my story, and I am not ashamed.
Translated to English by Lars Hoem