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Monday, August 22, 2016

My story: University and the middle years

Sharing this section of my life with you has cost my many tears, and I expect there are more still to come, but I offer it to you in the hope that it will continue to help you understand my experience as a transgender woman.

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In university my life continued the pattern of my teen years. I lived as a male because I knew no other way to live, but my primary relationships continued to be with women. In the college years this becomes a bit more involved, as male-female relationships, at least at the Christian university I attended, always have the tension of where the relationship is going to go. I enjoyed hanging out with my female friends and went on a number of dates, though in retrospect I’m not sure how many of them were really dates to me as much as opportunities to spend time with my female friends (I want to say girlfriends, but in the male-female dynamic that term tends to carry loaded meaning.)

Beyond the relationships expressions of my inner identity were fairly limited at the time. When I was at home as a child I had access to mom’s wardrobe. As an independent college student I did not have such access, nor did I have the privacy or funds to seek opportunities for self-expression. I do recall though talking with one friend about borrowing a skirt and wearing it around campus to see how people would react, but I lacked the courage to ever actually follow through with it (though she was willing to let me borrow one!)

In time I met a woman with whom I felt a deeper connection than with any of the other female friends I had had, such that calling her a girlfriend would be accurate. We began dating and eventually married. I loved her deeply and do not think that in marrying her I was trying to cover my own inner struggles – though maybe I was. It may seem strange that someone who is transgender would choose to marry someone while living in the role of their non-internal gender. From what I have read and learned from other transgender people, this is not really that unusual at all. Because we cannot (certainly not at the time I got married) live in harmony with our inner identity, we strive to succeed at living in the role that society has forced on us, even if we don’t realize at the time that we are just living a role. I was pretty good at the male role, though interestingly I was never really very masculine. Even my future (at the time) wife recognized this about me and nicknamed me her “unguy.” Little did she, or I, realize at the time how accurate that title was.

She and I went on to have a family: two wonderful, amazing children whom we both love with all our hearts. We moved more times than either of us would have imagined when we first married. We were not a perfect couple. (I really doubt they exist). We struggled in various ways, one of which related to my persistent inclination to form friendships with women. Not surprisingly, and maybe not unreasonably, she had a hard time with this. I could never offer her a satisfactory explanation as to why I always connected better with other women. In retrospect it makes perfect sense, but for most of our married life it just created tension between us. I don’t blame her for this, as it was a natural reaction for a woman who thinks she has a cisgendered husband who can’t seem to stop building friendships with other women when he should be focused on her. I should have done better and I regret that I did not, though I understand better now that I wasn’t looking for love outside of the marriage.  I was just building friendships as I am a very relational person. 


In my next sections of my story I will share about the later years of our marriage and how I came to finally recognize who I am and why I had behaved as I did all my life. But before I close this entry I want to emphasize as strongly as I possibly can that my now former wife bares no blame or responsibility for my transition. I’ve already established that one doesn’t “become” transgender, yet some people will insist on blaming it on some inadequacy or failure on the part of the spouse. That could not be farther from the truth. I’m not going to say she was perfect. I certainly wasn’t. But nothing she did or didn’t do made me the way I am. I look back on our years together with a lot of joy, as we shared many great adventures together and passed through a lot of challenges together.  My greatest regret is that when I finally began to really examine myself and figure out who I was, I didn’t let her in on that journey. I’ll talk more about this later, but she really is one amazing woman and being her partner for so many years is not something I regret.

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