I think i’m reaching a personal epiphany.
Maybe i’ve reached it.
The ‘thing’ with Jane is a huge thing to come to terms with and what i’ve found is that it has made, is making, me re-assess so many things in our lives.
One of them being me.
The fact that the topic of the week/month/year in our house is gender means its constantly at the forefront of mind in a way its never been for me before.
Do you out there <peers into the intermeweb gloom> think about who you are in terms of gender?
I’ve struggled with who i am for most of my life, i have a histoy of depression lite (and post natally dark) that stretches back to puberty. (the solution in our house was to eat more brown bread and marmite…B6/B12 dontcha know)….I’ve under achieved, i have low self esteem etc etc.
And none of it has ever even started to make sense.
Within days of Janes coming out i started to self examine myself in gender terms. Its been a running joke, for most of our relationship, how male i can be and my blokiness has mirrored Jane’s transformation…. a reaction…a seeking balance in our relationship.
Thats what i’ve said…thats what it must be.
But…whats puzzled me is this crying lark…they way Janes gender issues upset me SO much whilst i’m totally accepting of them on a personal level.
I think i’ve been scared.
Scared that Janes coming out isn’t ‘causing’ my inner bloke but a catalyst enabling me to find it.
Now wouldn’t that be a neat and tidy story?
Boy meets girl.
Boy becomes girl.
Girl becomes boy
Girl and boy live happily ever after.
After all those who are transexual tend to have partners who are gender atypical. It would in a neat and tidy NHS approved binary transgendered world make total sense.
But life isn’t like that. People aren’t like that. I’m not like that.
As we’ve looked at Janes past, at her formative years as John its been a case of a diametrically opposed ‘me too’ …..a tomboy….who became a shaven headed dungaree wearing young adult….who became a woman who wore her husbands boxers and went to gents barbers for a short back and sides. A woman who never shaved her legs….never wore make-up….not on feminist principle…far from it…just becuase none of those things made sense.
I’m not body dysphoric, i love being the way i am…..but that said if it changed tomorrow….i’d love that too. If i lost my breasts to cancer i’d be bereft…but then i’d get on and enjoy the enormous benefits of not having them.
I’m not unhappy with my genetalia…they have served me well…they still do…but i can see the attraction of having a cock.
I’d like to be physically male….but i don’t not want to be a woman enough to want to be a man.
I’m not male.
But….I’ve never cracked being female.
If pressed..and Jane did press this this morning and brought some of my thinking to a head….
I’d say i have a male/female cycle..or a more random fluctuation. Best illustrated in the cutting of hair.
Grow it until unhappy..then cut it to be happy ad infinitum when i was younger. It often used to happen towards the end of relationships…long term relationships with men have made me very unhappy…and the cutting off of hair was always symbolic of a new start…a new me.
And then i’d get into another relationship with another man…try to fit into the role of girlfriend and round i’d go again.
I thnk if i try and decide if i’m male or female i think i’ll go mad.
Online tests always tend to show a balance…almost equal in gender terms.
Does that make me both…or neither.
Hopefully once i cogitate a little longer it’ll just make me me…i hope it can lead to a self acceptance i’ve never had before.
I’ll find a way of embracing both genders in a way that doesn’t need the extremes Jane needs to be comfortable in herself.
I thnk my tongue in cheek ‘tweed wearing accidental butch lesbian’ is probably far closer the truth than i ever wanted to admit to anyone….let alone myself.