open relationship, relationshipping, trans talk

I’m the Q

You are a slutpuppy“Bless your heart but you are so not a lesbian,” says S.

The fact that we can have this honest conversation is huge.
The fact that S can have her sense of humor about a hurtful point of conflict is even huger.

Until this moment, S would often wonder why I couldn’t stay attracted to her if she’s still the same fabulous person on the inside and I was in a lesbian relationship for a decade.  In her shoes, I’d wonder the same thing but the best truth I’ve got is: the attraction cooled to something tepid within me and tepid is a pretty lame concessionary temperature for a love relationship.

I nod and recollect, ” ***(my long-term ex before S) said the same thing when we were dating.”
S shakes her head and pats my own.  “It’s really LGBT-supportive and I love you for it but you are not gay.”

I concede this point.

Before S, I maintain that I fall in love with the person, not the gender.  Although that statement pretty much announces my bisexuality, by mentioning gender, I qualify being a lesbian and/or having been in a lesbian relationship.  It’s as though I can’t commit to simply being gay, even though I was in a lesbian relationship for a decade.  No wonder my long-term ex wouldn’t call me a ‘real’ lesbian; it took over half the length of that relationship before I’d say was a l-l-lesbian.  
Then we broke up.

As S transitions, I am forced to dissect how true this ‘not the gender’ assertion is.
It’s not so true.

Without a doubt, my relationship history defines me as bisexual.  However, every person I have dated since S and I have open-relationshipped and broken up has been male, which then makes me feel like a bit of a liar if I call myself bi in the present.  But the second I identify as a straight girl, I have a feeling the universe will find a way to have the last laugh.

So.

In my apparent quest to self-identify, I’ll go with queer.
I’m the Q in LGBTQ.

Because one sure thing is that my past, present and future sexual identity and experiences sure as hell (will) fall outside the hetero-defined mainstream.

Thank. God.

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trans talk

Sex changes

Sex changeswith every relationship.
Of course it does.

And when my partner is a transsexual, the sexing definitely shifts.

I expected gay, bi or straight sexual identity exploration to happen because that’s a common part of transition.  I expected the kind of sex we had to change as she figured out said sexual identity.  What I didn’t expect was the change in sexual roles.

As a man, my BF enjoyed dominating me.
As a woman, my GF wants to be dominated.

Hmm…

I sense an incompatibility of the irreconcilable sort sprouting.  I try being more dominant.  This isn’t my natural inclination but I recall one relationship where a very experimental other wanted me (in one of many phases of said relationship) to dom-i-nate; no two ways about it.  Gosh, that was so many years ago but maybe I can embody that mindset and try it out.

Except it’s so not me.
Shit.

The dissonance in roles of dominance and submission teeter-totters our relationship, in the same way that GF figuring out whether she is straight/bi/gay does, as well as my determining how attracted I am to a physically transitioning GF.

And I have to be real.

Me: So I think we need to open relationship like you suggested because, clearly, you aren’t getting your needs met from me.
GF: Okay, obviously I’m okay with that.  But you haven’t really tried having sex with me the way I want.
Me: It’s not for lack of trying.  Really, it’s not.  Stop rolling your eyes, goddammit.  It’s just that…obviously this is far from intuitive for me.  It’s like there’s a block.
GF: Rumi, do you think all the sex I had with you was solely the way I wanted?  I had sex with you the way you wanted it.
Me: Sigh.  And oh.  It wasn’t a chore, was it?
GF: Of course not, I love you.  It was never that but it wasn’t always 100% what I wanted is all- it was a compromise.  That’s all I’m saying.

I feel like I’ve failed my GF.
I wish- I really, really wish- that I could be a different person for her, someone who could fulfill all her new and changing needs.

It’s not for lack of love.

Thing is, I can’t lie in the face of sex, sex roles or sexual attraction.
I have before and what resulted was a stupid mess.  

But that’s another story for another time.

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open relationship

What if…

What if

and there are so many what ifs swimming in my head.

Sometimes an open relationship makes me think (and I probably shouldn’t think about things that haven’t happened but I can’t help it):
What if I end up being attracted to a woman?  What then?
GF has maintained that as long as we’re together, the only woman she will be attracted to is me.  But this could change, depending on the person…right?
Or
What the fuck if I meet someone and what we end up having is so *&♥^∞%!!! that I rethink open relationship and end it?…What if she does?

Of course there’s no need to seriously dialogue hypothetical musings but the second we agreed to open relationship, these what ifs enter my mind.

In Realityland, we just need to communicate the hell out of communication.
And I’m constantly amazed at how every crevice of my preconceived notions of sexual identity and definitions of romantic relationships have changed.  When BF turned GF a frighteningly beautiful thing happened: the traditional notion of expectations were flung far and wide out the window.

Here’s what we expect now: raw honesty.
That’s it.
Which can be a lot because honesty when adjusting to an open relationship can hurt and definitely has uncomfortable as fuck moments but it’s the only way to sincerely try to make it work.

So I haiku because sometimes a 5-7-5 is the best way to process.

Matters of the heart,
Truth: anything can happen.
sometimes scared as fuck.

Is it too much?  More than I can handle?
Perhaps.
On the one hand, yeah, it’s a lot.  I ask questions and
sometimes feel insecure in ways that most people choose not to in a committed relationship.  Hell, some would say the whole point of monogamy is to eliminate a certain insecurity.  

But then again, insecurity strikes any relationship, monogamous or not.
And aren’t levels of honesty and acceptance of said honesty the ultimate make-it-or-break-it factor in any significant relationship?
You’re honest or you’re not.  Any relationship could end at any moment.  I guess in mine there’s simply no room for hiding/repressing/suppressing; being with GF makes me deal with a lot of what ifs head-on.  Between her transition, an international move and an open relationship my comfort zone lies in what was uncomfortable.

So my previous discomfort is now oddly homey.

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open relationship

I see open relationship

I see open relationship

but. I. Don’t. Want. To.

Fuck a tightrope, fuck balancing.
The ground beneath my feet is so many thousand miles below, I can’t even fathom stepping on solid ground.

What am I bitching about now?

All impending physical changes aside, I realize soon after his coming out that my boyfriend turned girlfriend will need to figure out if she’s straight, gay or bi.  Some people are born knowing/feeling their hetero/homo/bisexuality.  For others, it’s not so immediately clear; various experiences are required to truly understand and/or accept their sexual identity.  I am partnered with a self-proclaimed experience whore, for whom figuring out her sexual orientation will necessitate experiential experimentation.  I know that at some point I will have to be okay with this, or not, but either way there will be a fork in our hitherto monogamous path.

At the moment, I have negative interest in an open relationship.

Fuck.
This is hard.

Fuck.

Sure, when he was a guy, he was heterosexual but he’s not such a he anymore.  And just like I have questioned whether or not I would be able to stay attracted to him as he transitions, I have to wonder about the potential turns her sexual attraction will take.  Not to mention, she has stated that dating a heterosexual man would validate her female-ness like nothing else, which I totally understand.  And although she won’t date or sex other people because she knows I’m not ready to open relationship, I really get that it’s unfair for her to not do what everyone does (or ought to)…explore their sexual identity.

My mind can process this quite rationally but in the moment, only weeks after her coming out, my emotions are slighty nauseous and fail to keep up with the seemingly radical relationship shifts that await us.  Currently neither of us is eager to change our relationship status but this waiting period is difficult for me.

Because I know soon everything will change. Again.

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