A young man of 23 years, an engineering student approached me with the statement “Doctor, I have a unique problem. Hope you can help me”. He was very agitated. After calming him down, he wanted my assurance that I will not tell his parents before explaining the problem. With this assurance he started speaking.
‘ I feel I am a woman in a man’s body. I get feminine feelings. I am attracted towards boys. Though I have many friends among girls, I don’t feel attracted towards any girl. I am in love with a boy in my class. We were roommates in the hostel. We are very good friends. He is very understanding and supportive, we share everything, even secrets. He has a girl friend who he likes very much. I feel disturbed when he talks about her or goes out with her. I feel jealous. But I can’t tell it to him. He may laugh at me.’
I asked: “Why do you think you are in a wrong body?” (He had medical check up and found to be a normal male physically and physiologically).
He replied: ‘Even as a child, I remember as a 4 or 5 year old, I liked to dress up like a girl, wear frock, do make up and wear ornaments, etc. When I grew up, in the high school years, even though I liked to dress up as a female, I used to resist it due to fear of ridicule from my family and friends. Other children in my school used to tease me, telling me that I am girlish. While in High School I liked one boy, but that all passed. I was good in studies. In the College also I was maintaining my good grades and teachers liked me. Then when I joined PG course, this boy Prakash came into my class and we were allotted the same room in the hostel. We became very good friends. He is very understanding, helps me when I need help. I feel a sort of possessiveness towards him, don’t want to share him with anyone. But he considers me as good friend, nothing more. During holidays when I go home, I talk to him on phone. If I can’t talk to him even one day I feel miserable. I feel lonely and abandoned. I want to be always with him. I have not told this to anyone, even Prakash. Only my sister, with whom I am close, knows a little bit. Now the course is over and we have left the hostel and college, I won’t be seeing Prakash and that thought disturbs me. I am even considering surgery for gender change and become a woman, so we can marry and I can always live with him. I had consulted a Psychologist and had 3 sessions of counselling. He also suggested surgery. I haven’t told my parents, but told my sister about it and seeing my condition she also agreed with the suggestion.’
He was very confused about his gender identity. He described himself as a homosexual, because his sexual feelings are aroused by some men, he even felt lust. But his behavior was more like a trans-sexual. According to Webster’s dictionary trans-sexual is a person with a psychological urge to belong to the opposite sex that may be carried to the point of undergoing surgery to modify the sex organs to mimic the opposite sex.
He said he wanted to know the cause of his problem and to get rid of the disturbing thoughts regarding his sexuality. I asked if he was ready for hypnotherapy, specifically regression therapy, and he agreed.
It was not that easily done as said. Even though he regressed back readily to a past life, only fragmentary information was forthcoming. It took four sessions to get the full picture, sometimes going back to the same life again and again.
After putting him in deep hypnosis, he was led back in time, suggesting that he go back to the origin of his problem. He went to a life time in the 16th century, England; a princess, about 20 years old. She is very fair, beautiful, with blond hair. She is very proud of her looks.
‘I am standing on a meadow….western attire. I am alone…..I am proud of my looks. My hair is blond, skin is white, I have a crown in my hair (tiara?), some kind of stick in my hand….. wearing a blue glittering gown. I feel proud of my beauty…..I feel I am some princess….in a fairy tale…..I am about 20…..looking at a palace.’
The following information was gathered in two sessions of PLR.