A Brief Background of A Self-Made Man

The title will make a little more sense later, trust me

It’s funny really, there have been quite a few people in my life who have suggested I should write some kind of memoir. Though I thought that was a bit pretentious, given I’m only 24 years old at the time of writing. But I won’t lie, I have thought about it. So I figured I’d give myself a small taste of the process here, encouraged by Dr Mehmet Yildiz, as a writer for the ILLUMINATION publication.

If you only want the more relevant information, here it is:

• I came to write on Medium after being a reader on the platform for some time
• For the non-fiction, I typically write about finance, self-development and life
• For the fiction, I’m pretty new at it, but I like to write about the supernatural and dystopian futures for fun
• I’m mainly known among my peers as a musician, but I also paint
• I’m also starting a PhD in Business this year (though the way I’m doing it, it couldn’t get any less corporate, believe me)

However, if you want to get to know me more, stick around a little longer.

If you’re a reader of mine, you probably already know a fair bit about me, I’m not one to shy away from a personal piece after all. However, if you’re new to me, then buckle up — it’s story time.

Some Background

I was born in the capital city of my country, in the UK but not London, three guesses where. Out of my set of siblings, of which there are five if you don’t include my step-siblings through marriage, I am the youngest. My two oldest brothers have a different father.

My family come from a working-class background. As is quite common among our socioeconomic group, my parents didn’t marry, and they split up when I was young. What is a little more unusual was that my brothers, sister and I stayed with my father after the breakup.

As it was, we had a neat arrangement. We would stay with my father during the weekdays for school and visit my mother on the weekends. My parents were always civil around each other, which was nice.

I’ve left out an important detail so far, which regular readers would know about.

Growing up, I spent many years brooding and confused. As I hit puberty, I became clinically depressed and suicidal. I hid behind the guise of ‘emo’, at the height of the ‘scene’ days; I’m talking MCR, Escape the Fate, Paramore, you name it. I was absorbed in the alt/heavy metal scene because it seemed to me everyone had their own shit to deal with. Still, we collectively embraced the shit and supported each other.

At the time, I thought the problem was my sexuality, I was attracted to girls. Which I guess would typically not be a problem. Except, I was born a girl myself. I spent some time identifying as a lesbian, and I was the only ‘out’ one in my school. It was not a fun time.

Flying a New Flag

It wasn’t until I was 16 I discovered the term ‘transgender’. When I did it hit me like a tonne of bricks, then a light bulb lit above the rubble. It explained so much about the pain I had been experiencing within myself growing up. Slowly, I began to come out. To friends first, who supported and helped me, even when they too had no idea what I was really in for.

When I eventually came out to my parents, which was a hot mess on my part, I did ask my mother what she would have called me if I were born a boy. She didn’t have an answer because she never considered it. So it was down to me to choose.

My name initially came from caution, I went by Alex because it’s a gender-neutral name. That way, people could make their own assumptions about my gender from things other than my name. I felt it would reduce my chances of being harassed. I don’t know if it helped or not in reality because there have been a few occasions where I felt I could be in danger. Though on the whole, I managed to avoid most confrontational situations.

Later, I confirmed my name legally to be Alexander. I chose my middle name to be an old family name from my mother’s side — she loved me even more deeply for that, I think.

I’ve spent so long with my chosen name now, hearing my birth name feels quite alien to me. It’s attached to a life that doesn’t feel my own even though I know it is, it’s almost as if I’ve lived two lifetimes in my short 24 years. It makes me believe in reincarnation.

I could go a lot deeper, and talk about many more and different aspects of my life — but I think I will leave it there for now. Most of my articles have at least some of my experiences in them. But if, for some reason, you’re dying to know more, here are more personal articles I’ve written: