Looking back to keep looking forward.

This isn’t my first attempt at blogging, I have dabbled in the past, most recently a few posts on Amy’s blog. One of the things that I’ve found is that it really helps me so sort through my thoughts, just the simple act of writing things down can be such a beneficial thing.

Being able to look back and recall what I was thinking or feeling at a set point is good too and there’s one particular post which I go back and read when things are feeling hard, like it’s all too much of a struggle. It was written in February 2014, I’d had a few months to process and start to get my head wrapped around the idea that the man I’d married  was in fact a woman and I was seeing a positive impact on his mood. It was written as a follow up to Amy’s post explaining how she came to tell me.  I’ve been told that someone commented that my post was too good to be true! How could I possibly be that positive about this? The truth is I was full of hope, in that moment I could see a way out of the dark pit we were living in, a light at the end of the tunnel if you like. It wasn’t too good to be true, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy but neither was the life we’d been living until then with the shadow of depression looming over everything. I wasn’t thinking ahead to transition or what was to come, or of all of the obstacles they we may hit along the way, I was just grabbing hold of that hope with both hands and hanging on tight!

So, when what lies ahead feels too hard, or the obstacles in the way feel too big, I go back and read that post, I relive the hope and remind myself just why we are doing this and it helps. Looking back at my joy at the realisation that the person I fell in love with wasn’t gone helps me to look forward to the future with her.

This is what I had to  say…

A few months ago I was looking through some old photos and came across one of my husband looking incredibly young, proudly holding our newborn first baby. I smiled fondly at the memory but then felt incredibly sad as I remembered the sweet, caring, sensitive boy I had met and fallen head over heels in love with, 15 yrs of depression, a job he hates and 3 more babies later that boy is little more than a memory. I still love the man he is but I have wished for many years that I had the ability to make things better for him, to lift the weight of his depression and in that moment it hit me suddenly and painfully just how much the years had changed him.

Stick with me that will be relevant honest……………

So, the tights! As Amy said, so much has happened since that first night it’s all a little mixed up in my head and I’m not really sure why or even what I was really asking. I guess I knew there was something more than the depression there as about 7 years ago when I worked shifts that finished at midnight and I came home once to find him wearing a pair of my black lacy knickers. He managed to convince me that it was just a one off, trying it out on a whim type thing and I didn’t really give it another thought for a long time. Fairly recently he had told me that when he was about 12yrs old he had wished that he could magically wake up one day as a girl. This he put this down to the bullying he was subjected to throughout school; the theory being that the bullies would leave him alone if he was a girl and that sounded completely plausible. The memory of the lacy knickers jumped back into my mind on hearing this but at no point had the idea that he could be trans crossed my mind.

When I suggested he get some of the tights I was thinking on a purely practical level of how cosy and warm they were, so good for wearing under jeans for doing outdoor stuff in the cold weather. There was just something in the way he reacted to the suggestion and how he rushed straight off to get them and try them out that made me ask the question. It seems so obvious now but up to that point it wasn’t. That said, I wasn’t shocked, surprised perhaps, but the more we talked the more sense it all made. Whilst I was fine with the idea in theory when he suggested trying on some of my clothes, I was also scared that I would react wrongly, do or say something to make him feel embarrassed or uncomfortable. I had butterflies in my tummy as he got changed, all sorts of thoughts were going through my head. What if I freaked out? Surely I should be finding this whole idea weirder than I was, maybe I was just suppressing my feelings and they would all burst out of me when I saw him dressed as a her! I looked up and none of those things happened, I just saw the person I loved, ok he was wearing my clothes but hey, it’s only social conditioning that tells me that boys can’t wear skirts anyway (not sure the same applies to the fake boobs but you know what I mean). Not only was I not freaked out by this new side of my husband but I quickly came to realise that something magical happened when he put my clothes on, he talked, about feelings, I found out for the first time in years what was going on inside his head and I rather liked it.

It was a little like opening the flood gates, hardly surprising when this girl living inside him had been squashed in a box for 30yrs and I had lots of chances over the next couple of weeks to meet her. He would change clothes and instantly he was different, it was as if his entire being was giving a sigh of relief and then he was her. I began to feel positive about the future, I had no idea where this was going to take us but it quickly seemed obvious that his depression was very likely to be linked to the fact that he had been living a lie his entire life, trying to be something he wasn’t, I felt there was hope.

But that’s not the best bit, no, the best bit is that I suddenly realised that I already knew the girl living inside my husband, remember the sweet, caring, sensitive boy I had met and fallen head over heels in love with? Turns out he was a sweet, caring, sensitive girl and now I get to spend my life with her.