At first glance, she looks like a ‘man’, but she’s actually an incredibly attractive blonde. The Czech Britney Spears has described her experience of transitioning and coming out
Pavi, you’re a beautiful woman. You’ve gone through transition. How long has it been? When and how did you decide to go through with the process?
Thank you very much. I officially came out on Facebook on 1 January 2018, when I wrote: ‘Please refer to me as a woman.’ After that, I gradually told my family and friends.
In April 2019, after a year of waiting, I finally started taking oestrogen and testosterone blockers, which was the best thing that helped me both physically and mentally. I don’t think I’ll ever stop taking them. I also received much-needed psychological care and support. That’s probably the most important thing for anyone in the early stages of transition.
Which period was the most difficult?
I’d say the hardest time for me was the period between coming out and the point when I finally felt comfortable in my own skin, which wasn’t until late 2020 / early 2021. During that time, I struggled with depression, anxiety and a fear of going out onto the street – it was awful.
Transitioning doesn’t take a few days or months; it’s a long process that requires patience, and everyone deals with it differently. Not everyone needs hormones or surgery. The important thing is to be happy with yourself and feel comfortable in your own body.
I read online that you were also exploring your identity in gay bars. How did your coming out go?
I’d like to say that sexual orientation and gender identity are two completely different things. When I moved to Sydney at the age of 18, I started going to gay clubs because I knew I liked boys, but I’d never been in the right environment to admit it to myself or tell those around me. In Sydney, I found loads of kindred spirits, so I officially came out as a gay lad. But that’s just my orientation; at the time, I still identified as a lad and felt comfortable in my own body.
The turning point came around 2015, when I was somewhere in between – a non-binary person, without any specific gender. Then, in London in 2016–2017, I started going to parties more and more as a woman, and gradually it reached the point where I announced to everyone that I no longer wanted to be referred to as ‘he’. That was my second coming out in 23 years. Since then, my gender identity has been female.
How did your family react to this decision? Did they support you?
I have a wonderful family. My parents have supported me ever since I was a little girl, when I used to dress up in girls’ dresses at the age of four and later performed at school dances. They’ve always cheered me on, driven me to talent shows and performances kilometres away, and every Sunday afternoon I’d entertain the whole family in the living room. They never made me feel that there was anything wrong with me or that I shouldn’t do this or that, or that it wasn’t proper for a boy. I was always celebrated as the family entertainer. During my teenage years, I withdrew into myself a bit because I wasn’t entirely happy or confident, but after I left the Czech Republic and admitted to myself who I was attracted to and who I really was, everything has been brilliant ever since, and my family has supported both of my coming-out moments.
Is the past a completely closed chapter for you – something you no longer want to think or talk about – or do you see this period as a step and part of your life story?
I don’t like talking about my old name and I don’t like showing photos of myself before my transition, but the first ten years of my life – that’s not a problem for me. I also know that some of my trans friends hated their gender and body as early as puberty, but that wasn’t the case for me. I only started to feel unhappy in my body (gender dysphoria, the opposite of euphoria) when I was 22–23 years old. That’s when I started to deal with it. I look back on my childhood positively, especially the moments spent with my family on holiday and the people who showed me love. I think that all my circumstances led me exactly where they were meant to. I’m actually grateful for that; I love being a trans woman. I’m really enjoying it, and if I had the choice of being reborn as a girl or a boy, I’d choose to be a boy again, because without my story I wouldn’t be the person I am today.
What’s the worst thing you’ve heard or read about yourself in this regard?
I think what upset me the most was when our country’s president, Miloš Zeman, said that he found transgender people fundamentally repulsive. I was very angry and offended on behalf of all trans people in the Czech Republic.
Personally, I don’t pay much attention to negative comments, but when someone uses hate speech or displays ignorance, it hurts. When it happens online, I simply block them. I’ve learnt that there’s no point wasting my energy and time on people who don’t want to understand my story, who aren’t interested in finding out what a trans person has to go through in life, and who just want to insult or judge. I’m talking about people who still refer to me as a ‘bloke’ because they refuse to respect and acknowledge me. Those who harbour hatred towards me because they are not at peace with themselves and/or with the fact that they’re attracted to trans women, but can’t bring themselves to admit it, so they struggle with themselves and then project that hatred onto me.
What was the biggest challenge throughout the whole process?
Probably patience. Being patient with myself, trusting the whole process. Trying to love myself whilst at the same time hating my body – that was really hard.
It was also difficult to speak out loud in public when I still had a deep voice before my voice training; that was really unpleasant. Back then, I’d rather have got lost in some unfamiliar town than spoken to a stranger to ask for directions, for example. And that was simply so they wouldn’t hear or see a boy in me. Social anxiety was probably the hardest part of all those experiences: leaving my house and still looking like a boy to everyone, even though inside I was already a woman. When people didn’t understand or couldn’t see that I was a woman, it upset me terribly and really knocked my confidence. Then I’d spend a week or so at home feeling depressed, or I’d struggle to go out without my glasses and a scarf wrapped around my face. During that transitional period, I tried to be as feminine as possible, whether through my clothes or make-up, to make it clear to everyone that I was ‘she’ and not ‘he’. It was as if I were silently shouting: ‘Can’t you see I’m a woman?!’
Fortunately, for the last two years I’ve been happy with the way I look. And that’s mainly thanks to the hormones. People definitely don’t see me as a lad any more.
Do the hormones really work well? Have they given you hope and a sense that everything will be alright?
The hormones literally saved my life, because I’d been waiting for them as if they were a lifeline for over a year and I was already afraid I wouldn’t be able to cope any longer. By that I mean the immense discomfort in my own body – it was awful. Facial hair, thinning hair, that ‘manly’ smell, muscle mass on my upper body – I hated it all. Testosterone blockers and oestrogen have changed all that for the better. Not overnight, but they’ve made a difference. I remember the first time I put on an oestrogen patch and woke up the next morning feeling as though I’d been sleeping on the lightest little cloud. Since then, I’ve felt softer and softer; my face is fuller, my breasts have grown, my hips are wider and my skin is incredibly soft. I feel like a goddess every day.
You can browse the wardrobe of the Czech Britney Spears, Pavie, in the fashion section of the new issue of LUI magazine.
