A random collection of over 1994 books and audiobooks authored by or about my transgender, intersex sisters, and gender-nonconforming persons all over the world. I read some of them, and I was inspired by some of them. I met some of the authors and heroines, some of them are my best friends, and I had the pleasure and honor of interviewing some of them. If you know of any transgender biography that I have not covered yet, please let me know.

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Home » , , » Beate Verena Schmittke - Von Nun an Ging's

Beate Verena Schmittke - Von Nun an Ging's

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Original title: "Von Nun an Ging's: Die Geburt eines Schmetterlings" (From Now On: The Birth of a Butterfly) by Beate Verena Schmittke.

Beate Verena Schmittke’s book Von Nun an Ging’s: Die Geburt eines Schmetterlings (From Now On: The Birth of a Butterfly) is both a confession and a chronicle of transformation, written with raw honesty and a deep awareness of time, loss, and rebirth. It is the story of a person who, in early adolescence, discovered a truth too heavy for the world to carry and too dangerous to be spoken aloud. Born in February 1952 as Bruno Schmittke, Beate grew up in a society that had no words for what she felt inside, where being different meant hiding in plain sight. Her book follows a journey that begins with silence and ends with self-acceptance, a metamorphosis that took nearly half a century to complete.
 
As a child, Beate already sensed the woman she would one day become. She recalls being eleven years old and seeing the Vienna Boys’ Choir on television, performing in girls’ roles. In that moment, something inside her stirred, a longing to wear one of those dresses, a deep certainty that she belonged on the other side of the mirror. But the 1960s were not a time for such revelations. She learned to bury her feelings, to play the part that was expected of her, to become a man who worked, married, and raised children. The girl inside remained hidden, dressed only in dreams and borrowed clothes.
 
For decades, Beate lived what she describes as a “normal” life. She was a husband, a father, a soldier, and a software engineer. She joined local clubs, went bowling, supported community events, and seemed to fit in. Yet inside, she was suffocating. The secret she carried became a constant companion, one that shaped every decision and every silence. Her only moments of relief came during carnival season, when costumes offered her temporary freedom. In those brief intervals, she could finally let Beate emerge.
 
It was not until January 6, 2001, at the age of 49, that Beate could no longer bear the weight of her hidden truth. Sitting next to her wife Ilse on their couch in Heimstetten, she revealed the secret she had intended to take to her grave. Ilse was devastated, the world as she knew it suddenly upended. There were tears and anger, followed by long nights of grief. Yet remarkably, love endured. Ilse did not walk away. Over time, they rebuilt their connection, no longer as husband and wife in the traditional sense, but as two souls bound by understanding and loyalty.
 
Their sons, then in their early thirties, needed time to adjust. Beate remembers the awkward moments and the stares, but also the quiet resilience that her family developed. The transition brought challenges, harsh judgment from neighbors, the loss of friends, and a gradual retreat from community life. But it also brought clarity. Hormone therapy began, followed by surgery in 2004, marking what Beate calls the end of her birth phase. She admits that she will never feel entirely like a woman in the conventional sense, but she feels at peace in her skin for the first time.
 
Beate’s relationship with Ilse remains one of the most moving aspects of her story. After decades of marriage, they faced a profound test of love and identity. When Beate transitioned, Ilse struggled to reconcile the man she had married with the woman now before her. They even separated for a few years when Beate moved to Lübeck, needing space to find herself. Yet distance only deepened their bond. They spoke every day, visited each other, and eventually reunited. Now retired, Beate has returned to Heimstetten and to Ilse. They share their home once more, surrounded by family photos, living proof that love can transform just as surely as people do.
 
Throughout her life, art was Beate’s refuge. She performed on stage as a singer, actor, and impersonator, sometimes parodying stars like Marilyn Monroe. These performances became her secret escape routes, moments when she could embody her truth through performance long before she could claim it openly. Her passion for art and music threads through the book, shaping its rhythm and tone. She structures the narrative around ten verses inspired by Hildegard Knef’s song Von nun an ging’s bergab (“From Now On It Went Downhill”), turning the phrase on its head to signify not decline but awakening.
 
Von Nun an Ging’s: Die Geburt eines Schmetterlings is more than a memoir of gender transition; it is a love story, a story about endurance, and a reflection on what it means to live authentically after a lifetime of disguise. Beate writes with candor about shame, joy, and the slow, painful process of transformation. She does not romanticize her journey but treats it as what it is, a series of choices made in the pursuit of wholeness. Her metaphor of the butterfly is apt, for she captures not only the beauty of emergence but also the struggle of breaking free from a cocoon built by fear and expectation.

Available via amazon.com
Photo © Brouczek/privat via merkur.de

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