The Final Transformation The Final Transformation
By Perry Desmond
“My appearance became increasingly feminine as the monthspassed. Silicone injections added to my feminine good looks. But Iwas miserable inside.”
My story begins in a small Louisiana town on August 15, 1936, whenI was born. My father was a river boat pilot and drank a lot. I wasalways afraid of him, as he would come home late at night, yellingand breaking things. I began to build a fantasy world all my own. Iwould dream about all the beautiful women in the movies Mother tookme to see on weekends. I wanted to be a girl, but I was a boy.
Mother always worked. I used to go to her room when she was awayand put on her dresses, earrings, lipstick and perfume. One day shecame home early and caught me. “Don’t ever let me catch youdoing this again!” she yelled. She whipped me, screaming,“You’re a boy, you’re a boy!” She ripped theearrings off and threw them on the dressing table. I ran from thehouse crying.
I was afraid to play with boys. They called me “sissy”and “Momma’s boy”. School was the worst time of all.The other boys didn’t want me around and called me ugly names.There were a few girls I could play with, but more and more, I playedby myself, with my movie idols.
Our town was near New Orleans and we had a Mardi Graschildren’s carnival each year. Everyone got into costume for theparade. One year when Mother was at work, I put on a skirt and blouseand dressed as a gypsy girl. No one knew who I was. I felt veryconfident behind my disguise. Everyone thought I was a girl, and Ifelt this was the “real me”. I felt a strange power flowinginside me. I was to feel it many times in the years to come, eachtime I put on women’s clothing.
At last I graduated from high school. At 17, I was one of theyounger members of my freshman class at Louisiana State University.Then, for the first time in my life, I met another person likemyself. Lee was in my modern dance class. We started running aroundtogether right away. Soon he had introduced me to almost everyhomosexual on campus. It no longer mattered that straight peoplelaughed and did mean things to me. I now had a group of people whoaccepted me as I was. It wasn’t long before I was part of thegay community in Baton Rouge. I began living with Ralph, 20 years mysenior. He used to take me to a bar in New Orleans. I was still only17, so we’d sneak in the back passageway. I’d never seenmen dancing with each other before. I was shocked down to my socks,but also thrilled with the dark atmosphere, pulsing music and crowdsof gay men. “This is for me,” I told Ralph. “Someday,I’ll work in a place like this.”
When I was 18, I quit college and headed for New Orleans. I workedas a waiter at a place which was a haven for male and femaleprostitution. They let me wear face makeup and lipstick. I soonbecame adept at male prostitution. I moved in with a wealthy tailorand started wearing women’s clothes every day. One morning, Iopened the front door and my mother was standing there. She wasshocked at my appearance. She begged me to come home. I decided tocut my hair, buy a pair of leather boots, and—of all things— I joined the Navy. While on leave one spring, I started datinga high school friend. We got married, but the honeymoon was adisaster. The marriage only lasted a short while. We were laterdivorced. I confessed to a psychiatrist that I wanted to start livingas a woman and I was discharged within weeks from the service.
I got a job as a waiter at a gay bar in New Orleans, and was rightback where I started. I started a male prostitute ring and gotanother job as a chorus dancer in a drag show. That eventually ledinto another job as a female impersonator. I was billed as “TheSouth’s Most Beautiful Boy”. I was soon doing one nightclub after another, with lots of drinking in between.
One day I heard my Dad was seriously ill. I phoned home and Mothersaid he was acting irrational. Dad had gone to a tent revival twoweeks before and now he would talk about Jesus and read the Bible allday. “He keeps saying that Jesus loves him,” she went on.“I’m afraid. I think he’s gone crazy.” I worriedabout Dad, but something happened about this time which soon made meforget all about him. I saw an old friend of mine on the street. Helooked like a beautiful woman. I was shocked, and asked him manyquestions. He gave me the name of his doctor who was giving himtreatments. I contacted him the next day and immediately began aseries of weekly hormone shots. My appearance became increasinglyfeminine as the months passed. Silicone injections in my breastsadded to my feminine good looks.
But I was still miserable inside. I opened a group of occult shopscalled The Age of Aquarius on Bourbon Street and money poured in fromthe day it opened. I decided that a sex-change operation was theanswer to my feelings of dissatisfaction and phoned a plastic surgeonin New York. We set an appointment for the first stage of surgery—castration. I’ll never forget the antiseptic smell of theoperating room. The surgery was done with local anesthetic, but eventhe drugs injected with 6-inch needles couldn’t kill thedreadful pain of the operation. It was the most dreadful experienceof my life.
My lover at the time was drinking heavier than ever. Two daysafter I was able to get out of bed, Wayne and I had the biggestknockdown, drag-out fight ever. That night after he stumbled out thedoor, I swallowed an entire bottle of tranquilizers. I should havedied, but only succeeded in knocking myself out for 24 hours. It wasthe lowest point in my life.
Three days later, my phone rang. It was Wayne, calling from themental institution where he’d gone for treatment, due to histerrible drug and alcohol abuse. “Perry, something’shappened!” he fairly shouted. “I have to talk to you —today!” I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw him. He wassmiling, absolutely radiant. When I ’d last seen him, he lookedwhite and dead inside, eyes staring ahead vacantly. What he told mewas the most shocking thing I’d ever heard. “Perry,I’m saved. I’ve got Jesus in my heart. I feelwonderful!” He witnessed to me every chance he got for the nextyear. Finally I agreed to go to church with him. Everything wasstrange to me, but I felt something I had never experienced in mylife. These people really loved each other. I could feel it.
Things started changing inside of me. When I went to work, it allseemed so drab and lifeless. Going back to my house, I decided toread all the Christian literature Wayne had given me over the months.I dug it out and spent the day pouring over it. I decided to visitthe Baptist church’s prayer meeting, next to the laundromat Iused. During the service, the Lord touched me and I started to cry.Afterwards, I walked up to the minister and said through my tears,“I want Jesus. I want to be saved.” I briefly told him mystory. A look of amazement spread over his face. He suggested he comeand talk with me at my house several days later, which he did. Afterexplaining the Gospel to me in detail, he prayed the sinner’sprayer with me. He eventually left, but I stayed on my knees,confessing all my sins to God. When I got up, I felt like someone hadscrubbed me from the inside. I felt clean and pure for the first timein my life.
That was in February, 1974. I went to church every time the dooropened. I literally read my Bible day and night. One day I asked myBible teacher if I had to start dressing like a man again. He showedme Deut. 22:5. “Perry, no matter what the doctors have added ortaken away, you’ll always be a man. That’s how God createdyou.” It hit me like a thunderbolt. I had been living a lie. NowGod wanted me to live the truth. At first I thought I could never doit. But after praying about it, a great peace came over me. I wentout and bought men’s clothing — for the first time in sixyears. Soon I was used to my new attire and the great adventure ofministering for Jesus began.
Invitations to share my story began pouring in. In the years sincethen, I have traveled thousands of miles, sharing what God has donein my life. I still can’t believe how much He has changed me.Sometimes I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not justdreaming. I don’t know what the future holds for me, but I doknow Who holds the future. His Name is Jesus, and He’severything to me.
Perry Desmond is a former transsexual whose testimony hasbeen shared throughout the world. He went Home to be with the Lord onJune 26, 1984. His death was the result of a massive stroke. An earlypioneer in the EXODUS movement, Perry’s exuberant love for hisSavior will continue to be an inspiration to many of us who werefortunate to know him. His entire story can be found in the book,Perry: A Transformed Transsexual. (Copyright c 1978. Used bypermission of Impact Books, Kirkwood, MO.) Distributed by Love InAction P. O. Box 753307, Memphis, TN 38175-3307;901/542-0250