Nothing to Say...

Just kidding. I have some stuff to say, my loyal readers.

I'm sorry I haven't kept up with this blog, but do you people really want to know each week that everything is pretty much the same as it has been?

Truthfully, though, it hasn't been... exactly... the same.

I really should have written something in September, but I was thinking more about what is happening at this very moment, even back then, so it didn't even occur to my foggy little brain to let you know what had been happening earlier this Autumn.

So, I'll tell you about that before I get to this very moment.

In September, Natasha has facial feminization surgery. It wasn't Caitlyn Jenner type, total reconstruction. She had some minor adjustments done to her forehead, eyebrows, and upper lip. That surgery wasn't a big deal on my end. I knew she wasn't going to look very different to me (although her lips are fuller. That's weird to me, but people do that lip-filling stuff anyway). She's still healing from it, but you can only tell at the hairline.

What was a big deal was the surgery itself and the early recovery. The surgery was almost eight hours long, and she had to stay overnight, which was a good decision because she was immensely groggy. So, yeah. Major surgery. And, by the way, after a several-month battle with our insurance, all this was paid for (minus co-pays and deductibles, of course). As I sit here in the waiting room for Tasha's current surgery, I'm at least satisfied that she'd already met the annual out-of-pocket maximum with the first surgery, so this one is "free."

Did I say "waiting room"? Yes. It's the procedure she's doing now that got me thinking a lot. She's having vocal feminization surgery now. Two little sutures will change her voice from baritone to alto and will take away some of that reverberation guys have (you really have to know what you're listening for, but essentially it's why so many transfolk get "clocked" on the phone. This is the big surgery for me, even though it's technically minor, outpatient surgery. Tasha's voice is the last thing I have of Jonathan, and I've already heard the last of it. I'll never again hear that voice except on videos or recordings.

Nothing new because, well, he's gone.

I'd been preparing for this surgery since she first wanted to get a consultation about it, which was last spring. I didn't think insurance would really cover it. But they did, and here we are.

The kids have expressed sadness and concern over the last few months, too. I don't know if they talked to Tasha about it, but she's going to read about it here (she's one of my biggest fans!). Their father's voice would be going away. They felt the same as me.

I've said before that it would have been easier if Tasha had done something bad and I/the kids could have hated her and moved on in whatever capacity that might have been. But we still love her a ton and want her to be happy with herself. This surgery is the icing on the cake. This is the one that means the most to her (besides the GRS, of course). She will no longer be misgendered under any circumstances. So, we support her.

On the plus side, she can't speak for about a month. So yay!

The facial surgery meant a lot to Tasha in the fact that people at stores stopped taking second glances at her. The vocal surgery means she can talk on the phone in a normal voice and be called "ma'am." I get that.

So? What does this mean for us? Well, nothing really. Not yet. I don't really know, but I suspect we will return to our new normal again and move on. Heck, we're still planning to move to Vermont ASAP. We'll be looking for one house to be in together with the kids. But I think she knows I'm only mostly joking when I threaten her with separate bedrooms. Still, the nature of our relationship is stable and good. She's been in therapy for a long time now, working on how she communicates with the kids. But that has nothing to do with being trans. That has to do with her upbringing. So she would likely be in therapy for this stuff anyway. All of our "problems" are just regular, non-trans-related problems.

But every once in a while, my problems also include feeling separated. I don't feel "married." I haven't for a long time. That's another story. One that you've heard from me before. But it's like my writing. I love to write. I have so many stories to tell. But I spend so much time making ends meet financially and all the other stuff that goes with having a family that when I get to think about it, a bunch of time has passed. I feel crappy for not having written, especially when I see Instagram posts of other writers I know who are doing their things, networking, entering contests, winning some of them, blah blah blah that I'm not doing, and I feel crappy for a bit. And then I have to leave for work.

That's what happens when I get down about my personal life.

It's a good thing I'm going for my MA in Marriage and Family Therapy. I didn't tell you that, did I? Yep. I'm doing it for me. Not so I can diagnose and treat myself. So I can get out of teaching and start helping people in a much broader sense. THAT will make me happy. So see? I AM doing things to make me happy. Moving to Vermont (ASAP, DAMMIT!). Going for a new and more fitting career. A little extra happiness can go a long way to making other things feel, and therefore become, more manageable. Stay tuned, my friends.

I have to leave for work soon. Tasha won't be out for another hour or two. Our friend is coming to relieve me from waiting room duty and she'll bring Tasha home. I will post again within a few weeks to give you an update about Tasha's recovery and my feelings about that.

These Recent Events

Hello, my amazing readers.

I don't have much to report personally, except to say that Natasha is scared. She's not exactly letting it run her life. Because she's already an introvert and doesn't feel that she has more than a couple of people in her life she feels are actually friends, the tragedy in Orlando and the near tragedy that could have happened here in L.A. this past weekend has compounded things and now she feels more "clockable" than ever.

Yeah, I've got some personal stuff going on. I got let go from my teaching job for no reason. I'm still struggling with my self image. My cornea transplant is acting up. Carbohydrates are now my worst enemies. But compared to the bigger picture, that's not so much.

I worry about my kids, now that they are growing up and now that they will be going to a school with other kids and adults and potential homicidal nutjobs. I worry about the stupidity that exists in our country on so many levels.

I just want you all to know that I'm sorry. I hate most people for this very reason. Most people are truly unintelligent, uninformed, and blind. Most people do what they're told. Most people never ask questions or ask for help. Most people blame others for their problems and take no responsibility for their actions. Most people take credit for other people's actions. Most people are selfish and short-sighted. Most people are lemmings. They're not all heterosexual. They're not all cis. Most are, though, by virtue of the fact that there are more of us than there are of you. I'm sorry that fear is more public. Fear has a place on social media. Fear has access to military-grade weapons.

I say fear and not hate because hate is one by-product of fear. Fear spawns hate, not the other way around. When we fear something, we either seek to understand it or we seek to eliminate it. Rational people who want to eliminate something they fear will just avoid that thing that frightens us. Stupid people will try to kill it off because everybody else must fear it, too. People who fear something hate it because they don't understand it because it is different from what they know and therefore they fear it. I'm sorry that you are feared. I'm sorry that anyone is feared because of a lack of understanding.

I am thinking about all of you out there, even if I don't know you. I can say that I, truly, hate so much of the world because I do fear it. I fear it because I do understand it. I am legitimately on the defensive, and I'm not really a target except possibly because I don't believe in a god. I am defensive because these same people are the ones who would vote for a fearful idiot with too much money and who would believe that humans have nothing to do with the slow genocide of Arctic life dependent on the ice and snow that is melting away. My children have to grow up in this world, and I fear for them. I am thinking of you in this world, and I hope that you are okay. I hope that you don't let fear keep you from living a good life. I may not know you, but if I can do something to make this world even a tiny bit better for you, I will. I will continue to go out into this world and be informed, do what is right, ask questions, take responsibility, and face my fear. I understand if you can't do that right now, but if you can't, I ask that you not let "them" win by working toward doing what they cannot.

The Next Move

No news tends to be good news, which you dear readers should assume in my lack of posts over the past few months. As this blog is specifically about my journey through my spouse's transition, I can assure you that in the time since my last post, life had pretty much been status quo.

And so, a couple of weeks ago, the status quo changed a little.

It was common knowledge between Natasha and me that not only am I not a lesbian or even bi, but that because she is now a woman, I have not felt the same way about her on a physiological level. This alone has been heartbreaking to me, especially when I have so much as entertained a single thought of "what if" involving another man, I have felt immensely guilty.

Several people have suggested that we get divorced so I don't feel guilty. It would be easier to move on and be open to finding someone else. For several reasons, that doesn't work for me. The most important reason is that I'm not unhappy in my home life. I still love Natasha as much as I did before, even though the kind of love I have for her is different. No, we have no intimacy. What we do have is a friendship that is probably stronger than most people will ever get the privilege to experience.

I don't have someone waiting for me in the wings. I don't know, nor do I expect, to have that again. I'm in my mid-40s. I'm no model. I have kids. How appealing is that? So what do I do? Get a divorce, move into a one bedroom apartment (as would Natasha probably) because I can't afford anything bigger with my salary, and have my kids experience their parents being more miserable on a daily basis just because of a "maybe"? Living on my own would give me less freedom than I have now.

So, a couple of weeks ago, we had to say good-bye to our second dog, Moose. He was the first dog we had, and he was sweet, and lumpy and a pain in the butt. He went quietly and pain-free, thanks to our amazing veterinarian, and he was not alone. That triggered a deep sadness in me that didn't hit until a few days later. At that time, Natasha and I also talked about us.

She let me go.

It was the most selfless act she's ever done. Her feelings for me have not changed, but she told me that she understood that she took my ideal away and she wanted me to be able to find that again.

I took off my wedding ring and we decided to call each other "partner," although technically that's not much different than "spouse." It's a start, I guess.

Although there is a part of me that is relieved: that some day, should someone come along, I won't feel the guilt, I'm still going through a period of loss, and this is horrible. It reminds me of when I went through our closet to take out Jonathan's clothes. I was in mourning, and there was this person walking around that looked and acted a lot like Jonathan but was not him. Now, there's a person walking around that looks and acts a lot like my spouse, but we are now pretty much married by legalities only. It's yet another step toward what I feared would happen seven years ago. Seven years. Half of my marriage.

We decided not to divorce yet because realistically, should someone come along, I might decide that it's just not worth it. So many couples who are together for a long time end up being more friends than lovers. How many people can spend the last years of their lives with their best friend? Essentially, we're taking it slowly. Natasha wants me to be happy. I am happy, but not in foundational ways. I gave up my marriage so that she could find personal happiness. It was and still is better this way for everyone involved. Except for me, I'm not as happy, and she wants me to be that way again. But not before I get to be miserable about the official ending of my "married" relationship with my spouse... er... partner.

I'm still not okay with any of this. I'm not bouncing back as quickly as I have from other stuff. I still feel guilty. I remind myself that it's not just about sex. There's so much more to it than that. But as much as I want the opportunity to feel it again, I don't believe I will. I keep thinking that it's not worth the heartbreak anyway. Sure, that's coming from my self-image, but you can't just turn that stuff off. Whether it's true or not, the thought exists for me. And yet, even if I saw myself as a super model, I would continue to feel the sadness of moving on. I know that we will always be best friends. I know that we'll still hang out and do things together as a family (we have kids together, after all!). We will always be there for each other. But...

The fact is that any guy I meet will have to be understanding of things most people don't have to consider. For one, my "ex" would be a woman who is the father of my children, and that's kinda weird. He will have to be okay with the fact that I would still be good friends with my "ex." He would get that our marriage wouldn't have ended because of someone's fault, but because it sorta had to end, and that's sad. How many guys would get all that and want to be involved with that? I'm not holding my breath.

So, my wonderful readers, imagine you are a lone floaty ring in the middle of a swimming pool on an overcast, warm, windless day. Sort of comforting and relaxing, right? But you're not exactly going anywhere, either. That's me.

A Need for Clarity

Hello, all you amazing readers!

I have a request from my transfans.

Will you please... or ask someone in your community to... create a glossary of terms the transgender community has created to describe everyone else.

Seriously. I'm not joking.

If the trans community really, really wants the non-trans community to fully embrace all of the wonderful qualities you all have as human beings, then you really have to consider that when the rest of us are called something that we don't understand, it kinda puts us off.

"Cishet"?
"Cisgender"? Thanks to GLAAD, we can look this on up.

I'm really, really not kidding my friends. Words are symbols. Words bring groups together and they can keep them apart. When someone writes something, for example, about the trans-experience in a non-trans oriented publication, do you expect to engender (pardon the pun) understanding or camaraderie when you use a term that only other transfolk understand?

It's like two people from different countries trying to forge a peace agreement when neither of them speak the same language nor do either have an interpreter.

Besides, "cishet" sounds like asshat to me. :-)

This is just a suggestion, beautiful people. But perhaps y'all should consider it somewhat seriously, since you know for a fact that I'm totally on your side. You know?

And by the way...

YAY SCOTUS!

Weighing In

A few days ago, this op/ed article appeared and caused a sh*t storm of its own. Burkett, the author, a "journalist, a former professor of women’s studies and an Oscar-winning documentary filmmaker," weighed in on Caitlyn Jenner's story. I read it that evening and after finishing it, wrote my response to it. I needed to edit it down, and then I got busy, and within two days I realized my efforts to submit a rebuttal to the NY Times was moot because everyone and their sister did it already.

What follows is a shorter, much more organized version of my intended response. 

Ahem...

Do men and women have different brains? This was the pivotal question Burkett posed in her article and the proceeded to, sort of, answer. As cheesy as Chelsea Manning's comment was about having been more emotionally inspired by Jenner's story, it didn't matter. Much of Burkett's opinions featured in this piece didn't matter because they were irrelevant to her original point of concern. What ultimately mattered to Burkett was that people insinuated that one could actually witness physical/chemical differences in male and female brains and that those differences actually have outer consequences. 

Rightfully so, Burkett reminded readers that because of perceived mental capacities, women were oppressed in many cultures for hundreds, even thousands of years. Burkett states that, "People who haven’t lived their whole lives as women...shouldn’t get to define us. That’s something men have been doing for much too long."

I get that. I totally get that. No one should ever "get" to define anyone else. Like Burkett said, "Their truth is not my truth." A-men, sister!

And herein lies the enormously hypocritical flaw in Burkett's argument. She says the following:

They haven’t traveled through the world as women and been shaped by all that this entails. They haven’t suffered through business meetings with men talking to their breasts or woken up after sex terrified they’d forgotten to take their birth control pills the day before. They haven’t had to cope with the onset of their periods in the middle of a crowded subway, the humiliation of discovering that their male work partners’ checks were far larger than theirs, or the fear of being too weak to ward off rapists.

In other words, "women" have suffered or are constantly at risk of suffering at the hands or gawking eyeballs of men... or from having a period.

Well, I guess I'm something other than a woman, because... um... I haven't suffered any of these things, except maybe for that almost bleeding through my pants in public, but I was, like 16 at the time.

Sure, men have looked at my boobs while I was talking; however, I also got intelligent verbal responses from them. Maybe my boobs weren't pretty enough or what I said far outweighed the boob allure.

In all the years I was on the pill, I was NEVER ONCE terrified that I'd forgotten to take one. Like the directions said, if you missed one, take it as soon as you realize you missed it. Perhaps I was more responsible with my pill-taking, pregnancy-preventing responsibilities than she was.

As I worked in academia for many years, WE ALL HAD CRAPPY PAYCHECKS. In fact, I earned more than most because of the unreasonable number of masters degrees I have.

The fear of rape thing? That cinches it for me. I have never once in my ENTIRE LIFE been afraid of being too weak to fight off a rapist. Never. Ever. I'm so strong that other people ask me to walk them to their cars, and I'm not referring to my physical strength (although my dad did always say I was strong as an ox).

Burkett should dismiss me right away. I have to go to the Virginia department of records or whatever and have my birth certificate changed from girl to... something else. I'm clearly not a guy. Unfortunately for Burkett, her argument that women can only call themselves such because of experience is a load of hot, stinky crap, and I am living proof of that.

To attempt a justification of this warped way of thinking, Burkett returns to the subject of brains. She says that "science" has determined that "they're in fact shaped by experience, cultural and otherwise." Yes, I've read those studies, and they also say that experience is only a part of what makes a brain function the way it does. Those same scientists DO NOT discount the actual fact (which has repeatedly been documented and proven) that there are male and female brains. Gina Rippon, that professor of neuroscience she quoted, was the ONLY science-type person to entirely dismiss the science of the effect of hormones on brain chemistry in-utero. So, of course Burkett is going to glom onto this person... who isn't actually a scientist but just a professor who makes unfounded suspicions to seminar attendees. The notion that you can't look at a brain and tell that it's a male or female brain, as stated by Rippon, is ludicrous to suggest as proof. Of course you can't. But you can look at it with machines and other scientific tools that can.

The next couple of paragraphs of Burkett's rant is blather, so I'm going to skip them.

Burkett continues, "The `I was born in the wrong body' rhetoric favored by other trans people...is...offensive, reducing us to our collective breasts and vaginas." Maybe for Burkett. Yet this comment is reminiscent of her earlier comment that one can't be a woman if one hasn't suffered like she has. Feeling that a person was born in the wrong body has far more implications than being about breasts and vaginas. Quick quiz: First, what word that starts with an H caused your body to produce those breasts and that vagina? Second, did that thing that starts with an H affect any other parts of your body or personality development? (The answers, FYI, are "Hormones," and "YES!" or "Duh!") Burkett's lack of empathy here is fantastic, painting a sparkling, clear picture of her view of "the Other." Talk about marginalizing a group of people! Not being transsexual, I can't possibly imagine what that feeling is like, but my spouse completed her transition in 2012, so I've got that as a reference. It is my understanding that the feeling of being in the wrong body can often be akin to having a wet, heavy, musty blanket all over your body that you can't get off.

Transfolk? Did I nail it?

Now, I'm not going to nail Burkett on anything she reported about the trans community having a problem with using the word "vagina" for plays and things about women. There are radicals in the trans community, too. That doesn't mean, nor did they imply, that they speak for all trans women. Burkett is just complaining that the people whom she aims to label are slinging mud, too. Yeah? And? Two wrongs don't make a right, you know. 

No. Wait. I am going to nail her. Burkett has a problem with a group of people who are fighting for inclusion in abortion rights? Really? You go, Fund Texas Chioce, formerly Fund Texas Women, for understanding that anyone with a uterus might need an abortion some day. Women's colleges are probably not "contorting themselves into knots" for re-thinking how to accommodate women who are accepting who they are and asking their school to support them. Does Burkett have proof that these schools are freaking out? I'd like to see those documents, please. She singles out Wellesley College as being tormented by trans issues, but hey, let's just take a look at part of their mission statement:

Valuing Diversity 

There is no greater benefit to one’s intellectual and social development—and to the vitality of an academic community—than the forthright engagement with and exploration of unfamiliar viewpoints and experiences. Wellesley encourages students to try on new ideas, try out new courses of action, and interact authentically with others whose beliefs or choices challenge their own.

..."and interact authentically with others whose beliefs or choices challenge their own." Hmmm. I'm thinking that Burkett did not get accepted to Wellesley. I hope Columbia University's excellent reputation isn't too tarnished by Burkett's lack of "fair and balanced" reporting.

Burkett lastly offers trans women a compromise: we womenfolk will happily support your right to be whomever you want to be along the X-Y chromosomal spectrum (which Burkett says is possible because what you do with your life defines your gender) just as long as you don't call yourselves women. That is so kind, isn't she?

She doesn't speak for me. Her truth isn't my truth. We may have been born with the same type of brain (female), but because of our experiences, we have developed into vastly different types of human being. If being allowed to use the term "woman" means that I had to have suffered from fear and degradation at the hands of males, then you can have it. On the other hand, I vote to remove Burkett's ability to call herself a women for the same reasons. Women are adult females. That's my understanding, at least. I give you permission, Ms. Burkett, to continue using the word "woman" to define yourself because I'm a nice person and because my definition is broad enough to include you. I suppose that if I were to follow your lead, I could change my definition to suit my fear-based arguments, but I don't think I'll do that because I'm not afraid of anything. Dirty litter boxes: those are scary. And that dream where you have a ton of homework due but you're already late to class. That one terrifies me every time!

Oh yeah. Those people who try to marginalize others because of difference, based on a conjecture that is utterly contrary to modern science... Do men and women have different brains? Are black people or Jews equal races to white Europeans? Does factory exhaust contribute to climate change? Does fracking cause earthquakes?

Those people frighten me the most.

A Sad Day, Indeed

My heart goes out to her mother. I'd like to show up on the doorsteps of the assholes on 4chan and beat the living crap out of each of them.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2015/04/28/killed-myself-sorry-transgender-game-developer-jumps-off-bridge-after-online-abuse/

The Bruce Jenner Interview Experience

It's been a few days since the interview and in those few days, the transgender conversation has exploded. Within the community, I've seen both overwhelming support and overwhelming damnation of Bruce Jenner coming out on national television.

Dawn Ennis, a friend of mine (whom I have yet to physically meet :-D) in the trans community, made an excellent point in her TV interview that everyone has their own experience in how he or she discovered and figured out what to do about being transsexual, and I think people need to be conscious of that. Jenner is a celebrity and has been for about 40 years. No one could ask him to remain closeted just because his coming out would invite so much press. In my opinion, he handled it well. I can think of several other ways this could have gone really badly.

As the spouse of a transsexual (I'm still not sure why no one used this word instead of transgender, but I'm no expert either), I found the interview fascinating. Much of what Jenner said was true for our experience - albeit from my perspective. We have two kids, but they were much younger when Tasha began her transition than when Jenner's transition started. I was amused at one of the wife's quoted comments calling transition a "journey" because that's what Tasha's father called it. It's a very impersonal comment. I would never call what a trans person goes through a "journey." "Ordeal," probably. "Process," maybe. But when you wish people luck on their journey, it means you are not coming along. It's that person's journey, so send me a postcard when you get there.

I think Jenner will have a lot of support throughout the transition, even outside the family. People will accept the woman Jenner is and that will be good for trans people. But what about the other trans people? The ones who are not celebrities. The ones whose name we don't know. The ones whose only person looking at him or her is himself or herself in the mirror.

I thought mostly about the wives as I listened to the interview. I'm a spouse, after all. It was nice to hear that the ex-wives were supportive (although if they weren't they wouldn't say since they were quoted on national TV). I thought about having torn feelings toward Tasha's transition. I thought about being angry at the universe for all of it.

I remembered thoughts that went through my head only a few years ago that still echo sometimes in my head. As I was taking the last of Jonathan's things out of our closet and putting them into bags, I had this crazy revelation (however irrational it might have been) that I didn't marry a man after all. I married a woman. The only person who wanted to marry me was not even a guy. I'd had relationships before, but none of those led to marriage because clearly guys didn't find me to be marriage material. It made perfect sense to me at the time. If you know me personally, you'll agree that it fit nicely into my self-image.

Jenner said that as a man, he was being himself under the circumstances. That was not authentic to how he really felt about who he was, but in the man's body, he was who he could be: a woman's brain in a man's body. But did that make him a "man" while he was in that body? He certainly had that body's sensations. Like Tasha, he acted and reacted like a guy. Tasha tried to convince me of this, and I finally just let the idea go, but I maintained that a female brain was responsible for guiding the testosterone-driven body, so it was still not quite the same. But does it really matter in the long run for me as a spouse? It shouldn't. People come in all colors. Some guys with guy brains are more emotional than other guys with guy brains. I, for one, do not act like a "girly girl." So, should it have mattered? No, but it did. Have you ever doubted your attractiveness because your partner changed genders? Do you think the average person ever would?

The interview made me wonder about all of the other spouses out there. The ones who, like me, have gone on "the journey" with their partners/spouses. I know that there are many spouses who say they're bi-sexual, so the gender change didn't matter to them. What about the other heterosexual spouses? That's why I started this blog: to share my experience with other spouses out there. Maybe it was a selfish thought, but I kept thinking about the stories of those women and men who chose to stay and how many of those trans people never tried to end their lives because of it. I felt for Jenner's wives. I cannot have a shared experience with the transsexual person, but I can with their partners. I also thought about stories of partners who left.

If you haven't watched the interview, you should. I wonder what people who have absolutely no exposure to this felt about it. I mean really. I'm not talking about the people who post responses under articles. My perspective is different as a spouse to that of a transsexual. My experience is different from other spouses/partners. My experience is different from someone who has never had to think about it. What this interview did was start a bigger conversation, and that's super important. Sure, it's going to cause all sorts of reactions. Some will probably be bad. But the elephant is in the room and nobody can get around it without touching it now (unless perhaps you live under the carpet). So much good can come out of this. It's true and proper education at its finest. It's a "real world application," as they like to call it. Your perspective on the interview is important. The interview itself can be a jumping-off point to meaningful conversations.

Take advantage of Jenner's vulnerability, no matter what you thought of it.

The Turning of the Wheel

I was somewhat depressed lately for several reasons.

In March, our collie Casey had to leave us due to complications from pneumonia. My heart is still broken over it, even though I know she is with me in my soul. We still have Moose, our Bassett Hound, and I love him to bits, but Casey was "my" dog from the start, you know?

In March last year, the kids and I came downstairs to get ready for school and we found our crazy, lovable, softest cat in the world, Magnus, dying on the dining room floor. We rushed him to our vet, but he passed on the way.

Except for some birthdays, March is now my least favorite month.

Also, I am still floundering around for a day job/career while I continue to work toward a writing career. I finally admitted that I enjoyed being a literary agent (that's another story), so I sent out resumes for jobs and training programs, but in February I was informed, after working for them for a whole YEAR in California, that my last online teaching job couldn't offer me work anymore because their accreditation doesn't extend into California. So that disappeared. Thank goodness Tasha and I are back in school this year because we are receiving some cost-of-living financial aid. I could go out and get whatever job I can find, but there are two sad facts: 1) I am way overqualified for most so they won't even consider me and 2) most non-teaching jobs out there don't pay enough to cover our monthly expenses. So finances really suck. I did, however, take the plunge today and announce to my local FB friends that I'm getting back into massage, so if word gets around enough, things will get better. Fingers and eyes crossed!

The other significant reason I've been feeling this way is because of guilt. I know I shouldn't feel guilty, and Tasha has told me the same, but I have recognized that our marriage is not working for me as much as I wish it did. I am so very, very happy and lucky to be married to my best friend and soul mate. We have fun. We get along. We communicate very well. We have a ton in common and we agree on most topics. But what we have is a platonic friendship. Well, that's the case for me, at least.

We talked about this the other day, when I couldn't hold it in anymore. Those thoughts were weighing on me in a way I've never felt before. So, it was a relief to finally talk about it. I told her everything I was feeling and she understood. In fact, she was calm about it, which I didn't expect at all. I'm pretty sure she had been sensing it long before, but considering how she had reacted in the past to passing conversations about our marriage, I was relieved to see that she had clearly thought about this, too, and knew how she really felt about it.

I'm not involved with anyone else. No one has asked me out or even hinted at being interested in me. I'm not going to bars or joining matchmaking websites or anything like that. Some day, I will probably get to the point where I feel that I just need to live alone (with the kids, of course) because being married to her might become more of a convenience than anything else, and that's not fair to her. Heck, as much as she disagrees about the possibility, she might actually meet someone worth being with. That would make me SO happy. She misses the "intimacy" of a relationship as much as I do and we both deserve to have it.

She said that she's okay with me taking my wedding ring off if I feel the need to. She suggested that I could probably still find someone even with the ring on, but seriously, would YOU want to be with someone who ignored the ring on your finger? What does that say about that person? I'm sure a totally awesome guy (a guy for me, a girl for you maybe) would understand if I explained the situation to him and he understood, but at some point he'd want that ring off. Anyway, the bottom line is that we have crossed yet another spoke in this wheel we're on. On the one hand, I feel much better having been "given permission" by her to move on, but on the other hand, it still breaks my heart to think about the probable end to what was supposed to be a forever thing.

Tasha says if we end up not living together, she'll build a tiny house in my back yard to live in. That's what she told our daughter, anyway. I can't see her staying in one of those things. She's got too much stuff. :-)

The story isn't over, my super-wonderful readers. Nothing's happening yet. If or when it does, there will still be more to say about being the spouse of a transsexual. For now, we're still married and still rolling with the wheel.

Introductions

A spouse of a transwoman asked for advice the other day about introducing new people to her family. In this example, one of her children was going to have a play date with a new friend and she wasn't sure if she should introduce her trans spouse to the friend's mother.

As the spouse/partner, we are in an interesting position. Most of us who have chosen to stay are not embarrassed by the fact that our significant other is a woman. Yet, we find ourselves justifying to strangers why we are married to another woman when we are not gay or that the father of our children is female.

No, it doesn't matter in the big picture that two women are married. If you have chosen to remain in this community, you can't possibly be homophobic. Trust me when I say that I know with absolute certainty where I stand on the rainbow, and where other people stand is of no concern to me. However, as the heterosexual spouse of a woman and the mother of children whose father is female... frankly... it's weird. Even after six years of this situation, I still have moments of strangeness when I feel that have to explain.

Ah, I can hear the chorus: "You don't HAVE to explain anything to anyone. It's not their business!"

That's not entirely true, especially when you're talking about introducing adults who are involved in some way with your kids.

We don't have to explain. It's easy to say, "Hi, I'm Marni, and this is my spouse Natasha." Enough said. Another parent will hear, "Hi, we're a married gay couple." Fine. But then the parent's child is playing with your child and your kid says, "Let's go see if Daddy will play video games with us."

"Daddy" doesn't seem to be around, yet your kid asks the other woman in the house to play video games. Your child's friend is going to have NO problem saying aloud, "That's not your daddy!" Then, when the friend goes home, he/she says to his/her parent, "E has a girl for a daddy," and then things go wonky.

In the case of my kids, they call Natasha "Sunny." They chose that name to mean "daddy," especially in public. Early on when Natasha was presenting as female in public, I might say at a restaurant, "Go sit next to Daddy," in front of the waiter. That would garner strange looks. Again, it's not that I cared, but the kids noticed and it sure embarrassed Natasha. For the trans person, it's like putting up a big neon sign that says, "TRANSSEXUAL RIGHT HERE!!" So, we asked the kids to come up with a new name that meant "daddy" to them, and they chose "Sunny."

Getting back to the introductions, I found it necessary to explain to teachers that if the kids talked about their Sunny, it was Natasha and if they talked about their daddy, it was Natasha, too. Sunny and Daddy were interchangeable. It was absolutely necessary because when we didn't explain at first, I'd be asked about it at the first parent-teacher meetings. Inevitably, one of the kids would talk about Sunny or Daddy to the other kids and a classmate would point out the obvious and then things would... go wonky. All I had to do was point it out to the teacher in the beginning of the year and all would be well. It was the same for the parents of our kids' friends. Sometimes, "daddy" would slip out. "Daddy's coming to see our play tonight," and poof... there's a woman walking in. Hey, wait a minute!

The spouse who asked the question wanted to know if she should contact the friend's parent before meeting her so that she would be prepared. My advice was not to do that. Other spouses agreed that even if she isn't embarrassed, to pre-warn someone is to come across as being embarrassed. It gives the other party a chance to back out before the confrontation. It's not presenting unexpected information in the moment, when it's appropriate and when you can see for yourself the reaction of the other party. If you're not embarrassed, don't act like you are. Like I said to the spouse, would you want your kid to be playing with the kid of someone who didn't accept that you were married to a transsexual? Would you want to be friends with someone like that?

There are a lot of factors that go into when/if it is time to let other parties know that your spouse is trans, but the bottom line is that at some point, people in your life will find out. The question is: how do you want them to find out? No, it really isn't other people's business whom you're married to, but when it comes to parenthood, biological relationships can be important information to know. Besides, it's really not about whose business it is or isn't. It's about the fact that the vast majority has never met a trans person. While there shouldn't be any "shock value" to it, there is, even if they're okay with it. I think it is better to just get it out of the way and let people react. Again, with the kids, I'd rather the parent choose to accept or not before my kid gets attached to the other kid.

Just my opinion. Yours is welcome.

Observing

My apologies, amazingly awesome readers, for the serious lack of posts. As this blog is about my relationship with Natasha, a post-operative transsexual woman, we've hit something of a lull in having much to report that might be helpful to you.

I'm in something of an observation mode right now because much of my life is still in limbo but is also moving forward at an incredibly swift pace. They say that time seems to move more quickly the longer we are alive because a year to a child takes up a much larger segment of life than it does when we're adults. You know, if you look at a pie and a year represents a slice, a year is 1/5 of the pie to a 5 year old but 1/40 of the pie to a 40 year old. I'm not talking about that, though. My loyal readers know that we moved back to Los Angeles a year ago. While progress in the writing career department is like molasses, lots of things are happening.

I need to make an observation that will hopefully become relevant before I complete this post. As I sit here in my dining room, the middle floor of a split-level townhouse that we shouldn't be able to afford, I listen to my children playing some kind of Mario video game with at least two other people. In my house is my spouse, a transsexual woman, president of a small yet ambitious theatre in what we hope to soon be known as the Valley Village Arts District, and high school thratre and film teacher; a transsexual woman artist who is performing her autobiographical one-woman show about... being trans; a 19 year-old African American Italian Latino former student of Natasha's who has come out here to contemplate his future in film and television and theatre; my two kids, both highly gifted - my nearly 8 year-old daughter is in a death phase and my son is getting on with life after completely losing vision in his left eye on January 3rd; and a 20 year-old amazingly talented artist and recently admitted lesbian or possible transsexual. Plus there are the two dogs and five cats and me. We are barely scraping by, since I'm still looking for employment and hanging on for dear life to my last job that offers no stability.

It's a full house. No one can possibly accuse me of being normal or having a normal life.

Natasha and I had a conversation the other evening about relationships. Neither of us have our sights on anyone, mainly because we're both not feeling at our best, but I got her to agree that if she did meet another soul mate, she would be honest in her desire to pursue it instead of shoving the potentiality of it aside because we are married. She agreed to do so if I agreed to do so, which I did. In a way, this brief talk marked another phase in our relationship that made me a little bit happier (always a good thing). Like Tasha, I don't realistically believe that I will find another soul mate who would also want to be with me. I'm not ordinary, even without the extraneous factors listed above. I think it's just nice to know that should some kind of cosmic miracle occur, we are both at a place where we would actually be glad for the other person. Dare I say, we might actually be... happy... for the other. We only want the best for each other. We love each other so very much. But our marriage, as I've said before, is incomplete for both of us. Since neither of us are in favor of an open marriage, there would be one clear choice should either of us find that other soul mate who fits the mold.

Ah, I think I figured out how that paragraph up there fits into this post. It's about me. I've said to friends that I don't see myself finding another male soul mate who is ready or able to be with me in an intimate relationship. My friends tell me I'm being silly and that I'm amazing and pretty and lots of complimentary things and that I should stop thinking those things. But I know what I look like. I know what kind of person I am. I feel that I am a very realistic, sensible person. So, when I say things about myself, I'm not looking down at me. I think that I need to be realistic about what's possibly out there. It's why I have David Tennant (Doctor Who) as my standard. A, he's married. B, he's... David Tennant. It's not realistic to consider him as anyone else other than an amazing actor whom I find attractive and potentially someone I will work with as a writer some day (hint hint Universe!!). He's a safe standard to have. Heck, he could be totally jerky, although that's not what I read about him. Nevertheless, as I feel the way I do about my prospects, no harm.

I know that I'm a good person. I'm smart and loyal and protective. I'm also strong with a strong will and I don't hide my feelings. Psychically speaking, I tend to radiate my feelings, which can be either good or bad. I've been known to intimidate people just by being in the room for the same reason that my best friend says that if she had to go into a dark alley, I'm the only person she knows who would make her feel safe. Sure, I deserve to have a good man in my life. I just don't see it happening. There's too much about me that isn't easy or simple or normal. I'm not holding my breath. Instead, I'm enjoying my life with Natasha and our kids and our menagerie of peeps going in and out of the house.

I do still wish that I didn't think about the mythical "someone else" out there. I wish my marriage were still what I need. But it isn't, and I'm okay with that. Natasha has me always to support her and I will always have her. The details might change, but some things, in spite of all of the immensely dramatic changes, remain the same. And that's pretty darned incredible.

Until next time...

Wow! Can't Believe I Didn't Tell You

I'm sorry, my amazing readers. I meant to post information about the show Natasha is producing here in L.A. I hope that those of you in town can come see it this weekend, as this is the last weekend. Anyway, the show is "Something Something, New Vagina," performed by Rebecca Kling. Please check it out if you can.

Here's the information: Something Something, New Vagina

Interesting Find

Hello, Transpeeps!

I was sent an email today from a company in Spain that makes underwear for people in transition. I took a look (you have to translate the page to English using Google) and I have to say, their products are CUTE! These aren't your comfy Fruit of the Loom type undies. They're more like lingerie. They even have a blurb on how to tuck in your extra parts to get the most out of the underwear. I also clicked on a random product and it looks like most pieces are around the $30-35 range (they're listed in euros). Not a bad price for lingerie.

http://www.translingerie.com/#!home/mainPage

So, if you're interested, check 'em out! Also, I'm curious to know about the quality of the products and the company, so if you do get something, I'd love it if you would leave a comment.

Take care all!

In Living Memory

For the trans spouse, those feelings of attraction, the desire for intimacy, the relationship, none of that inherently changes. What does change is caused by how much the other spouse feels that things have changed on his or her end. For example, Natasha, now being a woman, is not attractive to me. I have no desire for intimacy with her. The physiology of our relationship has fundamentally changed.

So here I am, living mostly very happily with my best friend. Every so often, my primal self, the part of me that likes to remind me that I like men, does its instinctive duty and I look at my devoted spouse and I feel horribly guilty for what my core being is saying to me. Life would be so much less complicated if I were much older and we'll past the point where my primal self gives a crap. But I'm not, and when it nags at me, I look at my spouse and see the person I used to want. It hurts.

But what am I going to do about it? Nothing. Not right now. Maybe not ever. A friend told me that I described where I am perfectly. I am the hub at the center of an infinitely-spoked wheel. Each spoke represents an option. Half of them lead me to stay and half lead me to go. But I am the hub and I can't actually make any decisions right now because the wheel is spinning very, very quickly. The only way it will slow down is if I can eliminate a lot of the spokes, and at this very moment, it is neither wise nor practical. I'm not going to even attempt to share any of those variables with you, mostly because you probably know exactly what I mean. For those who have no idea, I will say that no one lives in a vacuum and to make decisions as if one does is amazingly selfish and often catastrophic, especially to others.

For the rest of my life, Natasha will be a living, breathing memory of the full, complete life I had. I don't hate her for it, although I wish I had reason to. How much easier and how far fewer spokes there would have been had she cheated or had lied about knowing she was trans when we met. But no. There is no fault here, and that makes it all the more sad at times. I can't imagine my life without her, yet I sometimes wish we were neighbors or roommates instead of married. This pulling from different directions weighs in a person's soul at times.

And then, she is the living spouse who is still the one to make me laugh, to eat too much bacon with, to raise our kids with, to make silly voices at the pets. She's my family.

The wheel keeps spinning and it gets to me sometimes, but at the end of the day, I still have with Natasha what so many others will never have: a truly loving family. It makes me feel mad at myself that I even entertain the idea of breaking that up, even though I know that I am not the one who changed and that what I feel and think is normal.

I know it's okay to think what I do, even if it doesn't always feel that way. Just one of many effects of being the hub.

When Denial Makes You Bleed

Hello, my awesome, amazing, (I need another "a" word)... apt?... antidisestablishmentarianist?... I can't prove that, so... adeciduate (look it up) readers!

I hope you found that salutation at least a little funny because the rest of this post is quite serious. I was actually going to write about something else, not quite as serious, but I read something earlier on Facebook today that was posted by a transwoman that really, really upset me and I thought I should share it with you. If you are trans, then you might want to take this post to heart in terms of what you think you are willing to do to make your partner happy. If you are the partner, you should consider this post a warning about being aware of your wishes versus reality.

This person who wrote the post today has since removed it because some of her FB friends advised she do it if she decides to make what happened a legal matter. She posted a close-up picture of her face with a long scratch down the side, a picture of the person's fingers (the one who allegedly scratched her, and another of her full face. Apparently, her wife was the offender, and according to the transwoman, the wife was displaying anti-trans behavior. She called her wife, basically, a monster. Her wife hated her and called her names and just, pretty much, blew up.

This was the story she posted. I happen to have known the transwoman's story (her blog, a few emails/FB messages, and the press) since at least 2012, and it goes way beyond, way deeper, than the story posted today.

Here are the facts as I understand them:

The transwoman is a public figure. She transitioned on the job and transitioned back and, it seems, transitioned again.

Her wife was supposed to contact me when this all started, but she didn't take it well, I guess. The transwoman reached out to me, and to Natasha, for advice. We offered it where we could. I told her to be honest with her wife. Always. We also advised that to try to deny her "true" self for the sake of her family might come back to bite her in the butt.

Apparently, the transwoman doubted her transness because of some medication she took as a youth, but for a long time, she worked to be a woman, even though her wife was having trouble with it. Her wife even left, I think, but the TW convinced the wife to stay because the TW swore to remain a "he" at home. For a long time, the TW wrote and proclaimed how well things were going. More recently, she publicly proclaimed she... or, he... had "transient global amnesia," and wasn't trans. It was a cruel joke played by his wife.

So then today, having transitioned back to being a woman not too long ago, announced that her wife scratched her in a burst of anger.

Now, you know I'm not an advocate of violence in any way...

...but I kind of understand losing it enough to follow through.

Do you?

I guess I've been lucky. Natasha basically put me in the driver's seat with her transition. Yes, she did try to remain a man. She even promised that she would make it all go away. But really, that was during the first six months, and she really, really tried. She wrote letters to her female self. She read them to me. She read what her female self wrote back. And when she was reaching the end of her rope, I was the one who told her to move forward. I saw the depression getting worse, as hard as she tried to remain "Jonathan." Since then, she has been honest with me about her feelings as far as how each step of her transition effected her. Like before she had the SRS, she so hated her man-parts that it depressed her to even pee. She tried anti-depressants. She tried to "live with it." But if you're even the remotest sensitive person (you know what I'm trying to say), you can see when someone you love is really not doing well and you want to help, even if it hurts.

For Natasha, being honest with me about how much more she could or could not take meant the possibility of losing me, but she told me anyway, believing that somehow we would find our way through it together. No matter what our future together looks like, at the very least she knows that she will always have a soul mate and best friend who loves her unconditionally, rather than a bitter ex-wife who vehemently blames her for ruining everyone's life.

So in a nutshell, this person was getting suggestions from FB friends to file a restraining order against her wife because her wife finally couldn't take the manipulation anymore. She lost her self-control and lashed out at her once-again-woman spouse. Of course I don't think that was the right thing to do, but again, the wife was really tossed about in a very turbulent sea of indecision that very infrequently really considered the consequences. And this is why this should be a cautionary tale to all of you readers.

Transfolk: I totally applaud you for not wanting to rock your partner's boat any more than you have just by wanting to change your gender, but be realistic about what you can and can't do about it. You MUST find out if you are truly, and I mean TRULY trans. Are you bi-polar? Are you projecting a hatred of a gender because of something that happened to you in the past? Or, did you know when you were a wee one that you were in the wrong body and feel "wrong" deep down in your soul? If you aren't sure, FIND OUT!! And once you find out, be honest with your partner. TOTALLY honest. Be willing to try to deal with it, I guess, but understand that if you really are transsexual, you will need to transition, even if you can't afford SRS. Understand that pretending to be happy in a body you aren't happy in is a lie and that you will, eventually, have to do something about it. But don't, and I mean DON'T, walk up to your partner and say that X must happen whether you like it or not, unless of course, you really could give a crap about your partner, in which case why are you still together anyway? But DO express your desires to your partner, no matter how afraid you are. Either the partner will or will not stay for the ride. You cannot not do it just because you don't want to lose the partner. And, now here's the point of all this, DON'T CHANGE YOUR MIND if you are, indeed, transsexual. Live with your Truth. Deal with it. Trust that your partner, whom you believe is your best friend and soul mate, will process everything, one thing at a time, and conclude that she or he still loves you enough to see it through with you. If your partner is neither your best friend nor your soul mate, well, don't be surprised if she or he doesn't stick around. But just as you didn't lie to your partner when you first met (RIGHT?!), don't do it now.

If you keep waffling back and forth, and someone is there with you, you are making that person go back and forth with you. It's entirely unfair. You know what happens when you shake a soda bottle? A lot?

Partners: Do your homework. Read about transsexualism. Don't read about transgender. It doesn't quite cover it. Ask your transpartner questions. Be honest with him or her about your own concerns. Ask yourself if this is your best friend and soul mate. If so, ask yourself if this person did anything to you on purpose... something the person chose (which being trans is NOT). Understand what will probably happen and what, generally speaking, needs to happen in order for a real transsexual to feel whole and happy within his/her own body. DON'T PUT UP WITH MANIPULATION, but do have the guts to call your partner on it (because sometimes it does happen subconsciously. We're human, after all). Demand to be part of the decision-making process, and seriously reconsider your relationship if your partner doesn't suggest it before you do. Walk away before you lash out. Remember that if your partner has been honest with you all along, no one is to blame. Remember that your partner, if he or she truly loves you, is TERRIFIED of losing you... but you need to be honest with yourself, too, and take what you can take and not take what you can't. Find a therapist (your friends and family are biased, you know). Face reality, no matter how painful it is. You can't hide from it.

And DON'T HIT ANYBODY!

So, I did contact this person privately and suggested that maybe she not make this a legal matter, considering that opening that can o' worms would probably end up being a media field day of reposting her past blogs wherein she waffled and strung her wife along being a he and then a she and then a he and then a she again. Who knows if she'll respond.

You know I know how hard this is for everyone. This is why I decided to share the story.

I wish you all the very best in life. I wish you all everything you truly want and deserve. Just make sure what you deserve is something good, okay?

Don't make me have to slap you!

A New Home

I've come to my blog a few times over the last few months and said to myself that I need to write something. A few people (thank you!!!) are following me here and don't I owe it to continue to comment on my marriage to a transsexual?

Well, yes.

Except that over the last few months what has occupied me was whether or not we would be moving back to Los Angeles, how good was the public school our kids would - and now do - attend, whether or not Natasha would like her new job at a new school, whether or not I would get more work out in L.A...

Throughout this time, I've been dealing with my own hormonal shifts, and that did have a bearing on how I have seen Natasha in my life. I've noticed my libido getting more intense at times and having no one I wanted to satisfy it with. I also know that she has been feeling that kind of thing, too, but she has had no one who wanted to satisfy it with her. See the difference? Not so good. But over all, it's not been the biggest blip on my radar.

In terms of this blog, what I can say about this time is that dealing with the stress was both affected and unaffected by being married to a transwoman. Like many transfolk, they also had other issues to contend with, like depression, anxiety, OCD, or some other issue that at its core had nothing to do with being trans... or not entirely to do with it. For Natasha, she has suffered from depression because of more than one thing. But during her transition, she tried very hard to convince me and those around us that becoming a woman would make her a happier and much less depressed person. The truth is that she is happier in herself, but she suffers from as much depression as she did before. She still has trouble handling stress and she handles it (or doesn't handle it as the case may be) the same way she did when she was a man. We suffered a ton of stress lately, especially since probably October, and she got just as angry, withdrawn, snappy, and horribly sad as ever. I found myself thinking, "She's driving me as crazy as she ever did." In this regard, and in many, MANY positive aspects, she has been the same.

What did affect me was that when I was dealing with other people during that time and I had to discuss myself and my spouse, I felt more bothered about having to explain the whole female father thing or the husband/spouse thing. This was not at all her fault. It was that my stress made little things bother me. Now that my stress level has decreased, having to explain to people that Jonathan is now Natasha and that she is still the father of our kids, etcetera, is more amusing.

So, now we're settled in Los Angeles. The kids are going to be homeschooled for at least the remainder of this year and probably all of next. Natasha definitely hates her job but there's a light at the end of the tunnel in the form of a new career, thanks to my sister-in-law. My own parents have moved down the street, which makes both my kids and my folks immensely happy and makes Natasha and me relieved. We have Disneyland annual passes. I'm a producer on a fledgeling web-based TV news show for writers. Things are good, right?

I decided to write a blog post today because I wanted to share that Natasha and I had a talk not a week ago about our relationship. We both know that I feel the missing link between us and there's nothing either of us can do about that, but also we know that we are best friends and soul mates for life. Some day, maybe one of us might meet someone else who is a soul mate, too, and also has the right sexual orientation, but right now, nobody's looking. We're happy with each other. We have way too much else on our plates to even contemplate changing our lives in that way.

I'm in a private Facebook group for partners of transfolk and there's this one woman who, from my perspective, ran like a bullet to a lawyer for divorce papers after her spouse dropped a male Facebook profile for an entirely female one. Granted, from what she says and implies, the transitioning spouse isn't really including her in any of the decision-making, so I don't think either of them are really losing any sleep over ending the marriage, but it's got me thinking again about how fast people run away from problems. The sad fact is that me being married to a woman is still a "problem" in that I am now married to one of my best friends and not to my best friend to whom I'm immensely attracted to. Even if we weren't having sex, which happened for several years before, I was still immensely attracted to my husband. So, yes, it's a "problem." It does have an effect on my life on a daily basis that is noticeable. But it was MUCH worse in the beginning and still I didn't run. I will never run from her. Not because of her being a woman. And when I say that it's still a problem I say that along the same lines as that I'm not a millionaire is a problem or that the sliding door in the den is finicky so that's a problem. There are varying degrees of "problem," and Natasha being a woman is of the lesser degree.

The woman on Facebook is like many other women I've met over the last few years who used the transsexual card as the final straw to get out of a marriage. Again, in her case it seems that the transitioning spouse wasn't acting fairly. Still, she is one more example, to me, of someone who when she decided to run, ran really fast and very suddenly. It's like a switch was flipped in her head.

Why do people run from problems? Do they think that turning their back on them makes them disappear? I've never been able to do that. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I'm a control freak and if I don't know what's hunting me I can't figure out how to defeat it. It's like when you show an infant your face and then move it behind your hands. They really do think it's gone. It vanished. Some part of some people never grow out of that, I guess.

Natasha and I needed to have that conversation about our relationship. We'd danced around it a few times in the recent past, but we needed to be on the same page about each other. As much as the conversation was more than laced with sadness, it was all the honest truth and it was all said because we still love and respect each other and never want to hurt the other person but still remain true to ourselves. The truth has very big teeth and if you try to run from it, you will get a painful bite in the ass eventually.

The truth is that while I felt like I'd put some of "myself" aside for Natasha during her transition, I also discovered so much about myself. What I put aside was my heterosexuality. I put away much of my anger and frustration. I discovered that I am a strong person. I discovered that I am far more loyal and giving than I ever imagined. I discovered that I really am a good mom. I felt loss. Great, deep loss. But I got though it and I got over it. I was able to think through things that were becoming emotionally overpowering. The truth was that what I "put aside" was not anything that was... unauthentic... to myself. It was all me. I was not ever false to myself. I never lied to myself. Having to put aside aspects of your life or your nature doesn't mean you are being fake or false. We put aside aspects of our lives all the time. When we have kids, we can't stay out all night partying anymore (well, if you want to actually be a responsible parent, that is). When we start a new job, we can't necessarily show up in our pajamas.

The pain I felt during Natasha's transition was the pain of growth, realization, and survival. It was facing fear and loss and change. I could still have done without it all, but I'm finally looking at this as a period in my life where I learned more about me and what I can handle.

More to come. I promise.