Anick is calling for a public enquiry to collects stories from the intersex community (Picture: Anick Soni)
‘I probably would have tried to kill myself too if I had a body like that…’
That’s the first thing I heard, as I woke up in a hospital bed after an attempt to take my own life.
It happened 15 years ago, but those words still haunt me.
I’d overheard a nurse saying them, as she announced that my life wasn’t worth living, just because I am intersex.
And it’s a memory I was reminded of this week when I heard Gemma Collins say that she was advised by doctors, while in her 20s, to terminate her pregnancy because her child would grow up to potentially have a body like mine.
This news doesn’t surprise me. It does, however, show that I was never alone.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been made to feel like I shouldn’t exist. It has been my lived experience as much as it is my learned experience. I was born with a body that was seen as undesirable.
Intersex people are those whose chromosomes, external or internal genitalia, or secondary sex characteristics – like bodily hair or changes during puberty – do not fit what is seen as average or typical for female and male bodies.
There are currently over 40 recognised variations in sex development that can occur.
Gemma Collins revealed she aborted an intersex baby on the advice of doctors (Picture: Comic Relief via Getty Images)
And although the UN estimates that up to 1.7% of the population has intersex traits, the reality is that we have no accurate way of knowing. Moreover, finding a consensus on which conditions should ‘count’ as intersex can be complicated.
While for some, their intersex traits could be evident during pregnancy, or even at birth, others may discover their difference in their teens, and in some cases, not at all.
When I was born, healthcare professionals had been reluctant to use the term ‘intersex’ to describe my body. It was not immediately clear whether I was male or female based on my external genitalia, and so they decided to run some tests to decide on what gender I should be raised as.
As a result, I have spent my life since undergoing a range of cosmetic surgical and hormonal interventions to help me to look more acceptably male.
I’ve been operated on countless times, and live with chronic pain and scarring, not to mention the mental health implications.
I have spent my life since undergoing a range of cosmetic surgical and hormonal interventions (Picture: Anick Soni)
Anick grew up believing that his body was somehow wrong (Picture: Anick Soni)
There was no awareness or stories of people like me, and as a result my parents worried about what my life would look like. They did not know whether I’d be able to have a family, find love, or whether I’d even survive.
Inadvertently, the message to me became one of isolation and deep self-hatred over something I could not control or choose.
Finding any mental health support for me, or even my parents, has been an impossible situation.
And so, for so many of us, we ended up grappling with a life of so-called corrective procedures and interventions that felt like they were designed to keep us hiding in plain sight.
As such, it makes complete sense that Gemma Collins did not know bodies like mine exist. She admits on the Everything I Know About Me podcast that she had never heard the word ‘hermaphrodite’ – an outdated and offensive term – when she says doctors told her something was ‘wrong’ with her baby.
On her doctor’s advice, she went ahead with the abortion.
I wish I could have told Gemma that the decision she had to make was tough and, ultimately, her right to choose should not have been rushed by others. She did not deserve to go through this without appropriate support.
The seriousness and severity of intersex traits are unique to each person. Some may be born with life-threatening conditions that need immediate interventions. Whereas others, like me, are instead brought up believing our bodies are a problem in need of a fix.
Anick has learned how to thrive (Picture: Anick Soni)
I would also tell Gemma that some of us have been working hard to unlearn that idea and to thrive.
For me, this experience began when I made a film five years ago exploring my story, The Intersex Diaries, in which I met other people who like me, were born with uncommon variations in their sex development.
Alongside many others in the intersex community, I am focusing on my own healing, understanding and accepting my body as it has become, as well as what it was at birth.
I have learned that human bodies come in all different shapes and sizes and deserve to be celebrated.
What Gemma’s story – and my own story – proves, is that things need to change.
Through encouraging abortions for those carrying intersex children, medical professionals like Gemma’s create a perfect storm to wipe out people born with these uncommon differences in sex development.
The idea that we can be corrected or medically altered to fit in, without adequate support and long-term care, is shocking.
We do not learn about this natural diversity during school and my experience has shown me that even GPs are taught that we are so rare that they should just refer us to specialists.
The focus of these professionals has often been improving their procedures and techniques to minimise the risks associated with the more complicated situations.
Anick shares his story in the hope of improving support for intersex children and their parents (Picture: Anick Soni)
It’s something I’ve seen through my advocacy. I have spoken to those who, as children and teenagers, had routine procedures performed without being offered wider support – including for mental health – too.
I wish things could have been different but hopefully, it can be moving forward.
Someday, I hope that there is a public enquiry that collects and investigates our stories, and that the healthcare system improves to acknowledge our fundamental human rights.
Instead of focusing on cosmetically changing children’s bodies, perhaps we should focus on improving the services they offer to adults.
Imagine being told that your child should not live; they shouldn’t be born.
To make it worse, going through such a difficult time without feeling able to share with others and nowhere to get some specialist support.
Gemma Collins was led to believe that a life with complex health and social needs is not worth living.
I wholeheartedly disagree, and it was finding others like me that finally helped me to realise that.
Watch The Intersex Diaries here.
Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk.
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