relationshipping, trans talk

HOW can you think you will stay the same?

HOW can you think it will stay the same

It goes against all my logic.
I WANT to believe him when he says he’ll be the same on the inside.  I want this to be true because my insides are still blown away by his coming out and I’m actively processing at seemingly every moment, asking questions like: how much are things going to change, what will he look like, what will his transition entail (are there surgeries in the future- how many?), how long will it take for him to be happy, the list goes on.  At this point it’s been a couple months at most since he’s come out to me.  I’m still in love with him and if he’s right- that who he is on the inside will stay the same- then there’s a chance we can stay together…right?

I don’t know how he can stay the same.
The argument he presents is that he’ll still like the same things, treat me the same, have the same sense of humor etc.
I can see his perspective but- BIG but- what about all the external changes that will inevitably affect his identity and personality…who he is, in essence?
For instance, I don’t see his wanting to do things like picking me up off the ground in a big bear hug, slinging me over his shoulder, and swinging me around as I protest, kicking and screaming.  I’m already missing his manhandling me in the future.  I don’t want his new feminine identity to have to take a backseat because he knows that I want, possibly need, these very masculine acts of ownership in a relationship.
I wonder what will happen to us as our individual needs and wants seem headed toward irreconcilable differences.


What if:
I become unattracted to her because she will, slowly but surely, no longer resemble the man who made my heart skip a beat?  I’m already grieving the future loss of sideburns, chest hair, lean but really strong arms and him in a simple white t-shirt and black hi-tops. This list of desirable traits lost will grow as time passes and whether my attraction takes an undeniable nosedive in relation to it remains to be seen.  Thinking about the future, this uncertainty scares me because sexual attraction doesn’t lie and its absence won’t be ignored.

Yeah…so my future holds potential personality changes and shifts in sexual attraction…all very straightforward and complicated.

trans talk

Who are you calling a tranny?!

Who are you calling a tranny

Seriously, I can’t refer to a transsexual as a tranny on my blog when you call yourself that?!  And more importantly, we have the kind of relationship that deflates disparaging remarks by using them in good fun.

Rumi, that’s between us.  You know it’s a negative term, right?

Yesss…but I mean it with love and affection, not pejoratively.

Right, but I wouldn’t post that on a blog.  You’re basically enabling ignorant people to use ‘tranny’ without their giving a second thought to its rude and demeaning nature.

So, you really think I shouldn’t use that word in my blog even though:
1) I feel it goes against my personality and the way I naturally express myself and
2) I highly doubt ignorant fools are going to spend their time on my blog

I’m not going to tell you what to do but it’s the one thing I find contentious in your blog; you asked for my opinion.


I understand her point even though responsible honesty feels like a gross oxymoron to me at the moment.  But my being misunderstood by the general public as a proponent of a degrading and hurtful slur makes me feel sufficiently sick on the inside to quickly abandon the need to express my ‘humorous’ personality in this vein.  So aside from this post, I will happily abandon my crass usage of the word tranny, insisting instead on the much more proper and respectful transsexual.

At least until our society gets with it enough to where I can let my dark humor go uncensored without the endearment behind it getting lost.

trans talk

I don’t want you to be a transsexual, dammit.

I don't want you to be a transsexual, dammit

Why can’t you just be a crossdresser?

I notice that soon after coming out as a crossdresser, my boyfriend is reading everything he can by and about transsexuals.  Did I bring that on by asking if his transgendered self stopped at crossdressing?  I’m not ready to deal with the huge adjustment that his being a transsexual would require.  And then there’s my gut, my ever-reliant intuition telling me that his coming out isn’t over.  Waiting to hear what seems to be the inevitable is HARD.  Also, I’m incredibly impatient.  If it’s news that will greatly impact me and change our relationship forever, I wanted to know yesterday, damn it.  So I push the question; I ask him with increasing frequency if he’s sure he’s not a transsexual even though my wiser self knows that I’m not ready to truly deal with his answer.

My brain is so mad at me:
Why can’t you just enjoy what might be the last moments of your hetero relationship as you know it?

Because knowing it could be the last makes it impossible for me to enjoy.
And I’d rather know now so I can start dealing.
And it’s already different…just anticipating how different it will be.

How about giving him the time he needs because it’s not all about you?

Fine, yes, I get that.  But this waiting is TORTURE.

And I am so. fucking. torn.  I  waver between being his supportive best friend and the girlfriend desperately trying to be okay with her boyfriend’s probable true coming out. Aside from the bottom dropping out of any future expectations of our relationship, the countdown is seriously upon us before Tokyo take-off.  My brain is quickly, quickly, not quickly enough trying to sort it out.  We have to sell off and pack up our American lives in less than six months, my boyfriend is talking all sorts of transgender, cisgender (which I apparently am 100%), agender, bigender, genderqueer, crossdresser vs. transvestite vs. transsexual and I’m…waiting, still waiting.

And then one day…
Rumi, I think I want to take hormones.
I’m a transsexual.

Of course you are, love.
And then I start to cry.

relationshipping, trans talk

How NOT to come out to your girlfriend

How NOT to come out to your girlfriend

How about not on ecstasy?

Especially if it’s your GF’s first time on E?

This is what I remember:
Consumption of bitter white powder and 15 minutes later, I’m reeling over the toilet as my body wants this poison out ASAP.  But it doesn’t come up and another 15 minutes later I think I start feeling pretty fuzzy and sedate.  My boyfriend joins me on the couch after his porch cigarette and we’re doing the ecstasy love-stare into each other’s eyes when…

Him: I have to tell you something.
*big, trepidatious sigh, pregnant pause*
I’m a crossdresser.
Me: Seriously?
Him: slowly nodding, Seriously.
Me: Okaaay…processing, processing, on MDMA, processing…I’m really glad you’re telling me this…I still love you. I believe we’re shedding some tears; his of relief and mine, sympathetic

And then I’m off the couch, über-happy, dancing to music (where did that lovely beat come from?) and I grab his hands.  Let’s dress you the way you want to be dressed!!!, I say.  I’m so fucking high and elated at this point and all I remember is a collage of pink, orange, white and blue fabrics and colored bras that I’m putting on my bf as I’m shown a remarkable collection of his heels. Wow.  The heel collection makes his confession hit home: my boyfriend really is a crossdresser. But that hit is short-lived as my emotions are still in a blissful E-tornado.

And then morning hits.

I feel like total crap.  I’m drained and my body is not impressed with the dose of toxins its been subjected to and my mind is trying to begin the morning-after sort.  After I re-realize that, yes, my boyfriend really did come out as a crossdresser last night, my emotions start to kick in. I suddenly have a zillion questions (since when? why now? does anyone else know? what does this mean? is this a precursor to something more? etc. etc.),  I’m confused for the future and I’m pissed (was it his plan to dope me ridiculously happy so I would give him the reaction he wanted?!!!). And WTF is this dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach saying, “there’s more…”?  The trifecta of anger-suspicion-mistrust is the main reason why I suggest not coming out to your partner on mind-bending drugs.

Mostly unbeknownst to us, it will have turned out to be the 1st chapter of an entirely new relationship.

relationshipping, trans talk

I thought my lesbian period was over.

I thought my lesbian period was over

Then my boyfriend came out of his transsexual closet, showcasing so many pairs of stilettos, giving my heels-wearing self a run for my money.  Hmm…so you want to be a woman.  And you want to stay with me.  AND we’re moving to fucking Tokyo in like, five months.

Okay…actually, NOT okay.

He came out as a transsexual around March 2012 and we were set to move that August. We’d been planning the move for a year, by the way.

I’m intellectually supportive, emotionally wrecked.  My former lesbian self, chock full of rainbow pride and many collegiate LGBTQ/marginalized peoples classes is incredibly proud of his courage to come out, to be who he needs to be.  My current self- his girlfriend- is shocked.  I’m already in shifted identity crisis: my stomach is in free-fall and my heart is cracking, bleeding, crying.  This might sound melodramatic but the thing is, I’m a supreme realist.  I didn’t know exactly what would happen but I knew his coming out would involve a future of constant change and adjustment.  And as much as I love a grand adventure, I prefer my romantic relationships on the un-rocky side; we all know that life deals enough challenges, no?

So I grieved the end of our two-year relationship as I knew it.  DAMN.  That really sucked as it was an awesome two years.

And here we are, in Tokyo, girlfriend and girlfriend.

After some reflection, recording the constant and hilarious assortment of cultural, relationship and sexual identity changes and hijinks seems the path of least regret.  I mean, who doesn’t enjoy a run-on story about a transsexual in transition and her moody girlfriend moving across the globe whilst learning Japanese, finding employment, eating the crap out of Japanese food etc. etc.?

We sure as hell jumped and she was right…the net appeared.