Last night was both a movement in the right direction at home, and a bit of a setback. I guess we could say it was two steps forward, one step back. I confided in my wife that I felt as though I couldn’t really talk to her about the changes that were going on inside of me. I let her know that I was feeling apprehensive about how she would react to things and that I was rather afraid that she was ultimately going to decide to leave me. This opened up some conversation where I was able to be a little more openly excited about my transgender transformation and my wife even offered a name for my consideration (which showed that she had been thinking about it as I’d asked her to a few days ago). That made my heart soar because her offering up a name meant that while much of her might still be in denial or unable to fully process the changes that I’m making and will make over the next few years, at least some part of her is accepting and embracing my decision to live a more authentic life. The name she came up with, and the name that I think I’m going to stick with is Emma.
Those were the two steps forward, more open communication and a visible sign that she is continuing to accept me. The step backwards happened a bit later when I started talking about and asking her about the kind of hairstyle I could pull off after I grow my hair out. This prompted her to admit (not necessarily for the first time) that she felt I was moving too quickly. She clarified that I probably wasn’t moving too quickly for me, but was a bit for her.
I’m not real sure how I feel about what she said. On one hand I can empathize completely because it was only two weeks ago that I was Robert, the lifelong male who might have been a bit effeminate but rarely if ever outwardly expressed a desire or proclivity for wanting to be a woman. Sure there were the random comments here or there over the years about how I wished I was a girl, or how envious I was about women’s clothing (because of how much variety there is and how much I wished I could wear it). There were even some instances when I exposed my desire to cross-dress or to appear like a woman, but they were always fleeting (refer back to AM Regrets Post) and eventually faded when I decided to lock that part of myself away again. But all in all, I can easily see how this sudden change has been a bit difficult for her to process.
On the other hand, I also feel a strong desire to disregard her reservations about this completely. Part of me doesn’t want to care what anyone thinks because it has been that exact mentality over the last 20 years that prevented me from being honest with myself to begin with. I feel that I’m at a point where it no longer matters to me how I’m perceived because if I don’t do this, if I don’t allow myself to be what I’ve always been on the inside, I’m going to end up killing myself. I know that sounds dramatic, but for the first time in as long as I can remember, I don’t want to die. I don’t want to embrace the sweet nothingness of oblivion. For the first time, I feel like I can finally feel whole, like I can finally stop pretending and just be me.
Needless to say, the road ahead isn’t going to be easy with my wife and it may even come to a dead end in the future. Maybe she will decide, once I’ve grown my hair out, and started taking hormones that she can’t be with me. As sad as that makes me, and as lonely as I would feel without my closest companion of the last 6 years, I don’t want the fear of that to stop me from doing what I feel to be right for myself. I love her, and I want to be with her and I believe that is possible, but I’m not going to go back to the way it was before, not for anyone. I think I’d rather be a woman, all alone in the world, than a pretend man with a million friends and a wife. I am Emma Thrumston and I refuse to disappear again.