I could be a 42-year-old man. I could be walking around with a beard, with a deep voice and even, God forbid, with wedding tackle. The very thought of it chills me to the bone – in fact it makes me want to cry. Thankfully, I’m not a man; I’m a very happily married mother of two children and, these days, I’m very comfortable in my powerful femininity. But when I was a kid I was a misfit and I aggressively rejected my female identity.

I was born in 1974 and I was an obsessive tomboy from as far back as I can remember. Everywhere I went I was asked the ubiquitous question, ‘Are you a boy or a girl?’ I never liked the question – I didn’t really feel like either at the time – but when pressed I would always answer, ‘A boy’. Although I was certainly considered a total freak while growing up in Blanchardstown in the 1980s most people just raised their eyebrows and let me get on with it. I was given the freedom to be a crazy mixed-up kid for a while – nobody suggested hormone therapy.

What concerns me is that had I been born 30 years later, hormone therapy would probably have been suggested – indeed if I was 12 today, I would certainly already be taking puberty blockers and I would be stalking internet sites requesting hormone therapy. I am fully sure that if I had been born 30 years later I would, without question, have transitioned from an unhappy female into a very unhappy male.

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‘Boys and Girls’ by Stella O Malley, Sunday Independent 'Life' magazine, 13 July 2017