Six years ago I first came out to my wife about being trans. The loving soul that she is, said that she'd support me if I chose to live as a woman, but that she couldn't stay married to a woman. At the time, I couldn't bear to lose her, so I recommitted to her and the marriage. I tried, I really did give it my best effort. I love her and I love my kids and I have done my best to be the loving husband and father they needed me to be. But the weight of being someone I'm not had become unbearable. I was constantly depressed and felt like my future was hopeless, that I'd never be happy with who I was. I truly believed that the only happiness I'd ever know would be the bit of happiness I felt in seeing my loved ones happy.
This all changed for me a few months ago. You see, a part of my hesitation in ever transitioning was that I never believed it possible for me. In my mind, I considered a successful transition one in which I 'pass' as a woman. I didn't believe this was possible for me. I was convinced the best look I could ever achieve was as a man in drag. And I had no intention of giving up my marriage and possibly the ability to see my children for something that wasn't even halfway where I wanted to be. But as I said, things changed. While out on a business trip I had the opportunity to get a full makeover. It was a crazy, daring thing for me to do. I'd only ever dressed up in women's clothes that fit me poorly, so my experiences going en femme prior to this were more than just depressing--they were abysmal to the point that I'd be in tears afterwards.
Anyway, I wanted to give myself a real decent attempt at trying to present female. I had a makeover done and I was blown away by the results. "Could that really be me?" I'd ask myself. But what shocked me the most, was not my presentation, but how I felt just being myself. After the makeover we went out to a bar and I just socialized with the other girls there. I played a few games of pool, danced a little, and just had a good time being me. I just felt this incredible amount of peace and... dare I say? "Happiness".
When I returned to my hotel my world was in a whirlwind. The walls of my own disbelief had crumbled to dust, revealing the truth that I can be the person I want to be. Not only that though, but I had a complete paradigm shift. I realized that my own happiness was not predicated on how well I passed as a woman, but on just being myself, the person I really am. It was like the clouds of my depression had finally parted to reveal the bright future that lay before me.
But just as quickly as they parted they closed back up when I came to the somber realization of what this would mean. At that moment I knew transition lay in my future, and I feared what it would mean for my wife, our marriage, our children, and the relationships I hold dear. That night I cried, more than I'd cried in a long time. Tears of happiness at finding myself, mixed with the bitter tears of sadness over what was to come.
When I returned home I told my wife what happened. She was devastated of course, but showed care and concern for me. Not wanting her to feel completely devastated and hopeless, I let her know that I wasn't going to just jump into transitioning, that I'd be seeing a therapist first. But I knew... it was only a matter of time. Over the next few months she'd probe me with questions here and there. Therapy was helping, and I was a much happier person. I was more involved with the kids, and I was more affectionate with her.
At some point she concluded that this meant I was choosing them--that I was choosing to stay the man, husband, and father that they loved. I didn't discourage this, partly because I wanted to protect her as long as I could. But the reality is that I was a happier person because I knew I was on track to becoming the person I want to be. Eventually though, I knew that I needed to clarify things with her, that I would need to make it very clear that I intended to live as a woman.
That time finally came a couple weeks ago. I had written her a letter with everything I wanted to say and invited her to therapy with me where I read it to her. The letter I think was very well written. It addressed her fears, my fears, my feelings for her and the children, but also my resoluteness in moving forward with being the person I am. It was difficult for her to take. We both cried. I could tell she was upset and she said she felt blindsided by the news because she thought I was doing so well. I wanted her to again consider maintaining our relationship through this, but she was again clear with me that she has no attraction towards women and does not want this.
For two weeks since then we'd been distant. Giving each other space and time to digest the reality of it all. Our conversations had been trivial, and little better than discussing the weather. Finally last night we both broke, unable to take it any longer. We had our first real conversation. It was sobering, both of us realizing that this is going to mean the end of our marriage. We both cried and she said on more than one occasion "This would be so much easier if I hated you... but I love you so stinking much!". It was odd, to be discussing with her our divorce in a calm manner. There was no yelling or throwing things. It was just two people who loved each other very much realizing that things would never be the same. We talked, we cried, and then we held each other, just cherishing the love we felt in each other's arms. It was very bittersweet.
This is the end of something beautiful, I will forever cherish what we have had. It brings me a terrible sadness to know that this chapter in my life is ending. I know that I have a bright and beautiful new beginning before me. But I am still sad.
