So...as my story continues, I made it into high school, nervous, alone and lost. The first few days I met a girl who became my best friend (and as far as my family was concerned a "bad influence"). We both wore band shirts or graphic tees and jeans, sneakers and leather. Had tons in common and became near inseperable. She introduced me to body piercing and tons of different music. She helped me through the awkwardness of meeting boys (I still knew I wasn't quite "right" but everyone and myself chalked it up to curiousity and being a tomboy). I never had any interest in girls but was attracted to effemenite boys/men. Long hair, skinny, soft looking.
My entire high school career saw two boyfriends, introduction to the bi-world (though not for myself) and culminated in attending three different schools in three different states. Devistating. I was lost, alone, trying to make sense of why I had to go through all of this. Looking back on the friends my family saw as bad is kind of funny because alot of the time I was the "bad" one.
Directly out of high school I was kicked out and forced to join the military. This had a few different effects on me. Boot camp became a game. I actually enjoyed it after getting over the abject fear of being away from my family (for the shit I'd gone through I was very sheltered and naive). I met a few new friends and during tech training had more freedom than I'd ever had before. The military thing didn't last long. I was still an outcast, didn't fit in with many people and absolutely hated my job. I got stationed in Minot North Dakota. Had a couple of guy friends in the dorm, we'd wrestle in the snow and play video games.
Freedom slowly expanded until the fateful day I met a man who seemed different. We struck up a friendship, but as we did I lost contact with my other friends. We talked more about cars and aircraft than anything else and I thought I found love. He taught me how to drive and handed me the keys to his car when I got my license. He took me all over North Dakota and we visited Canada. He had a somewhat "metro", for lack of a better word, look and feel about him. I wanted to see him in makeup (another of my "odd" fascinations) and he hated it. He always touted himself as a gentleman but I soon found out that couldn't be farther from the truth.
Yes, we got married. Do I regret it? Not really. Though it still brings on a ton of pain. He was terribly abusive. In all aspects of the word. I had a nervous breakdown and was stripped of my security clearances because of it. I was co-dependent though and thought I would never find another person. I became more aggressive than I'd ever been (more on that later) to put up with his shit. He once told me "I'd never hit a lady, but you don't count". Maybe that should've been a massive eye opener.
Why do I not regret it? This is why...
Because of him, all the pain and suffering, the homophobic attitude he had (though he was not above cross dressing) and his controlling behaviour, I became stronger. I still thought I needed to be "a lady" no matter how uncomfortable it was. I tolerated a lot of bull for three years to start coming into my own.
We moved to New Mexico. A beautiful little college town called Las Cruces. As soon as we got there he left (back to Amarillo TX, his home town) and I found a job. I started dressing up and going out. We weren't divorced or even seperated, but I was starved for companionship and was alone in a city I'd never even visited before. I slowly moved my way up from a travel trailer to a nice appartment as he came and went. During these moves I started fighting back. I was sick of it and needed an out. The divorce at this time was immenent.
In the middle of this I started hanging out at a college table top gaming group on campus. Met a guy I really dug and tried to get his attention. Then a new guy came into view. He was tall, long hair, funny and most certainly not shy. So for an awkward few weeks I was pining over a clueless guy and being clueless myself to the advances of the newcomer, John! He noticed my artwork and gave me his number. I truly thought it was a joke. Two weeks later, after an agonizing half hour pacing my apartment, I called him. He invited me over to hang out and I accepted. Best thing I ever did!
Mind you, I was still married so had to tread very lightly, even though for the most time we didn't even live together. When the husband was around I acted nonchalantly about going and hanging out with my friends until the day that John leaned forward and kissed me in the doorway (now, here is another interesting point, NONE of my new friends knew I was married and I did my damndest to hide it). I had to tell John. I couldn't just push him away and leave him hanging. I really liked him. He was smart, funny, liked to go see movies and hang out with as many people as we could fit into my tiny two door car as possible! I was now experiencing late what most do during high school...
I realized I no longer needed to dress up and was accepted with the baggy shirts and jeans, it felt great! I hung out with three guys and a girl and we became good friends. But still, I hid the marriage.
Sooo....for some more awkward. It was a beautiful night for a drive up the mountain to overlook the city so I took John for a drive after he'd treated me to a nice dinner. I said I really needed to talk to him about something important. Little did I know this scared the crap out of him, as he'd been in similar situations.... We got up to the lookout and I told him my awful secret, "I'm married". He reached over and took my hand and said "phew, I thought you were going to tell me you are gay". I was shocked and ecstatic. I'd found someone patient that may be able to learn with me. Keep in mind, I still was very unsure of myself. I knew I liked men, wanted to be with a man, but didn't feel like a female. So, okay, I'm not a lesbian which is what he was worried about.
Skip ahead 14 years. We are still together and have two great little boys (whole 'nother story about the amount of counseling and drugs to cut my dysphoria for that one...). I make a mention that I feel like a guy. He kind of shrugs it off, I told him "I feel like a gay man in a woman's body". It shocked him a bit and nothing else was said for a year. I kept up the feminine charade, well feminine for me anyway, shaving what needed to be shaved and not binding (didn't know I could).
So another three years pass. John and I have been together for 17 years. We vended our 4th, I think, pride fest and I bought myself a genderqueer pride button. During that week I came out lightly as genderqueer. I didn't know what else to call me. I'm certainly not a "girl" as it were. I started looking up FTM and trans information. So did John. I work nights and get home late. One night he texted that he had some questions for me...that he was scared...oh boy...
I got home and he wanted to make sure I was comfortable answering his questions. I said, sure, I guess, I'll let you know if I'm not.
He asked me a few questions about how I feel about transitioning, hormone treatment and pronouns. Ok, that was fine. Then he broke down. "I don't want to lose you".... "I'm scared you'll change". I reassured him that I will always be me. Just that I want me to fit in the right body. I had no intention of leaving.
So here we are. A nonbinary to masculine transgender and a straight cisguy. I can't ask for better support. He even bought me my first binder and helped me with my hair and pick out better clothes than just the graphic tees I wear all the time. He loves me for me. It's an amazing feeling. I will never be able to come out to my family but since a lot of my friends are gay, bi, trans or just plain don't care either way, I feel comfortable.
John is pushing me to see a gender therapist, which I have my first appointment this week, Yay! and he pours over the idea of t with me. He alread knows I want top surgery. He makes mention that I've always been uncomfortable with my breasts, and he wants me to be happy.
If this all seemed rambling I apologize. It's a lot to say and is just the tip of a huge iceberg. I am at a loss to find other people in our situation with little to no conflict. It seems that most have their relationships torn apart. I am extremely lucky to have what I do and should never take it for granted.
We can find love and be loved, don't give up.
