I'm in the same boat as Slanan. I'm currently engaged to a wonderful girl that I've been seeing for the past two years. We might be few and far in between, but we're out there, somewhere.
I first met my fiancée at a dinner party, two years ago. I was immediately struck by her appearence. She was pretty, yes, but 't were her grace and elegance that moved me. I felt priviliged, because I couldn't help but feel as if I was the audience in a play where she was the lead actress and everyone else at the dinner party was merely fulfilling supporting roles. Most of all, however, I was captivated by her eyes. Those sparkling sapphires, radiant like stars, calm yet profound like a crystalline lake under the cover of moonlight, burning brightly with the flame of intelligence and of life... and of sorrow. I couldn't put my finger on it at the time, but there was a great sadness in her. No one else seemed to notice, so I did not ask.
I approached her, and we started talking. We immediately connected in a way that I'd never before experienced, and most likely never will again for as long as I live. The only way I could remotely explain this exhilarating feeling is by a corny metaphor: it felt as if we were two pieces of the same soul that had finally been brought together. It was as if, somehow, we belonged together. Not necessarily as a couple, mind you, but as two people that were meaningful to eachother. She obviously felt the same way, because we started seeing each other regularly.
Then, a couple of weeks later, about the third time we met, she confided in me. She spoke in a soft, vibrating voice, afraid as if merely uttering them would make them shatter. Her words were plain and simple enough, yet veiled and subtle. "I haven't always looked the way I do now."
At first thought, I naïvely thought she ment she'd changed her hairdo or something. Coloured her nails. The intensely nervous manner in which she was peering at me from under her eyelids, however, told me this was deadly serious. I couldn't help but feel I was in somewhere way over my head. I hadn't a clue just what I was in, however.
That moment lasted but the blink of an eye. Not an instant later, the full implication of her words was revealed to me. Now, to say I was unsuspecting would be an understatement, since I'd never been confronted with transgender issues up to that point. I was dumbfounded, to say the least. I sat there, in shock and in awe, for in that very same instant, she'd shattered my entire worldview and instantaneously replaced it with a new one, a view where she had taken her rightful place. I was engulfed by thoughts and emotions. I was humbled, honoured, glad and thankful that she had found me worthy to be confided in. I felt pain, regret, and anguish as I realised all the things she must've been through, the hardships she had to endure, the misunderstandings she had to cope with, and I felt deep sorrow that she had to suffer all that all alone - to the point were I could barely constrain myself from bursting out in tears. I realised that I deeply cared for her. Above all, however, I was deeply honoured and profoundly grateful. I had been chosen worthy to be given a glimpse of this brilliant diamond, where most others may only see one or perhaps two facets at the same time. At that precise moment, I saw her for who she really was - a beautiful, radiant star that had chosen to unveil herself for me.
I realised right there and then that it did not change who she was in the slightest, and that I could not possibly care less what she had looked like in the past. What did it matter? All that mattered was who she was then and there. But how could I relate this to her? The way I expressed myself was vitally important. I couldn't help but become somewhat nervous myself as I saw here sitting there, this beautiful woman of mine, her hands clenched tightly together, not knowing how I would react. How hard it must have been for her to confide in me!
I could clearly see that she was worried. How much time had passed? It couldn't have been more than two, three seconds, and yet, since I did not immediately reply, she was worried that I had taken it the wrong way. As I smiled towards her, I could see her relax, and only then did I realise just how tense she must have been.
"This does not change who you are. It does not matter to me how you may have looked in the past - what matters to me is who you are today." And as she smiled back at me, I realised everything would be alright between us.
