Outside our small, yellow house in Atlanta, a huge Pride flag waves in the breeze. I love that flag. It tells a part of our family’s story that is no longer easily visible.
The near unraveling of our marriage in 2016 broke something in me. I thought I’d try to piece it together, to come up with some patched, passable version of the life I wanted. But, sometimes, when something breaks, the best thing to do is clear away the wreckage and begin again.
I felt so shattered by Simon’s transition that, for a long time, I insisted that I was a lesbian and he was… well…him. But ultimately, insisting I am a lesbian doesn’t honor who Simon is. And, besides, it makes it harder to explain the cute, bearded guy I’m married to. Eventually, I settled on “queer” because it honors our whole story. And, really, it’s a story worth honoring.
Watching Simon grow fully into himself has been profound. I respect the thought he puts into the kind of man he wants to be. It’s amazing (and unusual) to be privy to this kind of conscious choosing–choosing the way he moves in the world and how he wields his privilege.
Truth be told, Simon isn’t the same person he was before he transitioned. Not really. For a long time I wanted him to be. Sure, there are soul-elements that’ve shown that they’re impervious to change. And he still knows that I love chocolate covered marshmallows and that I’m afraid of birds. But big life events change us all.
I’ve spent a lot of time getting to really know and understand him over the past year and a half. I’ve found that I love this version of him. Really love. Not out of convenience. Or habit. But that daily I choose him.
We’ve had to work hard to build a relationship after the Unraveling of 2016. When I wrote about it last Summer, I didn’t understand how far from done we were with the rebuilding. In fact, we’d barely begun.
That’s the trick about putting a marriage back together: it’s a process.
But, sometimes, when I look at him, I get that little spark that starts in my chest and zips down to my toes–the small bolt of lightning that feels like love. And I know we did right by each other.
Right now, our biggest problem is how to get our kid to stop rolling her eyes at us. And how to let folks know we are a queer family. I thought about just getting a shirt that says, “The cute bearded guy is trans.” But, I mean, would I have to wear it every day? He does have a collection of trans-themed t-shirts in his clothing rotation–and on those days we feel seen. But we haven’t found a good way to let folks know exactly who we are.
Right now, that giant Pride flag outside is our way of being visible, of declaring that things DO get better, and of being proud of our story. And of our love.