Right in the middle of the morning craziness (the dog trying to eat a zip tie, the kid beseeching me for more screen time, and me wading through client social media while trying desperately to down that second cup of coffee), this popped on my Facebook feed:
I mean, holy shit. That was a showstopper–just as much now as it was 3 years ago.
I went barreling into Simon’s office (he works at home. We both do. I know, I know) to show him. Because HOW was that only 3 years ago?!? It feels like a lifetime. But I can also feel that raw emotional turmoil (on my end) vividly like it was yesterday. It’s complicated–as most big life events tend to be, I suppose.
So what’s changed?
Simon. I mean, he’s a hell of a lot different than before he transitioned. And who wouldn’t be? He spent his whole life being misgendered and feeling a disconnect between who he was at his core and how people saw him. Once he transitioned, and people saw who he’d always been, that unease around people dissipated. I mean, he can still be hella socially awkward. It’s just one of the quirks that makes him so charming. But now, he’s at ease with who he is. He gets to walk through the world as the person he was always destined to be. It’s both so simple & so profound. It’s also a tremendous blessing, both for him and for the people who love him. I admire Simon’s bravery and his commitment to live out his truth. And I feel really honored to be part of his journey.
Our relationship. Simon & I got a whole lot of “Love is Love” cheers when we stayed together after his transition. But, really, sometimes love isn’t enough. When Simon transitioned, deep down I believed that I would need to leave our relationship. Not because of him. But because of me. I didn’t think I could be attracted to a man. And being in a romantic relationship requires attraction. But, then, I was attracted to him. And that caused a huge identity crisis for me.
Good Lord, with the crises and chaos.
The transition, our move to Atlanta, my emotional turmoil: it all pushed our relationship to the breaking point. We had a very clear, monumental decision to make: split up or stay together. After some push & pull, and a misstep or two, we chose to stay. Rebuilding has been a long, intense process. But there’s power in choosing each other again, after so many years of being together. For two people who are so wildly different, we really get each other. We’re a battle-tested team. No one around here will be throwing in the towel any time soon. Turns out that we love each other. A lot. (And, I feel that little surge of energy when we’re together, the one that tells me that I’m with the right person, that reminds me how much I love him. It’s wild. And a little exhilarating)
My confidence. Simon’s transition made me feel incredibly vulnerable. I wanted to protect him. And me. In that bewildering and vulnerable state, I took a lot of shit from people that would never fly now. People asked really invasive questions (under the guise of “educating” themselves. Ahem. That’s what Google is for). They made all kinds of assumptions. Some folks bailed when I needed their support. It was a rough time. But now I know how to advocate for myself. And for my family.
Simon & I fly a Pride flag at our house, because we are out & proud members of the LGBTQ community. In our “normalness,” we are revolutionary. We are a symbol that things DO get better. That, sometimes, love really does win.
(ETA: We’ve got a LOT of pictures from Disney. But not a lot of pictures of me & Simon. Odd. But we are. Odd, that is.)