Perspective

My understanding of the variables that make this journey so difficult boils down to perspective.

Is the hot air balloon in the air? Is it going up? Is it coming down?

We all live within our own perspectives every day. If we are lucky we allow our experiences and the people we meet to modify and maybe change our perspectives. On a great day you may meet someone who shares your perspective, but they will rarely think in exactly the same way as you. This is a good thing. I think.

Usually in a relationship the compromises come when 2 people try and merge their perspectives to a comfortable middle ground. 1 or other may have to move more seismically to achieve this but it happens nevertheless. I remember particular things like Christmas and Santa. My husband believed it was essential for the children to wake up and have all their toys at the bottom of the bed, whereas I had grown up with the excitement of waiting at the top of the stairs until mum told us we could go and look under the tree. This culminated in a compromise of leaving some toys at the foot of my son’s bed and some under his tree. Utter disaster when the poor boy woke us up highly distressed as he thought the sum total of Santa love was a small toy at the foot of his bed. We then needed to comfort him for half an hour before he could even face the possibility of looking under the tree! Clearly this was the least of my worries but I didn’t know that then.

What is my perspective today? 4 years on from our initial introduction to the truth?

At the beginning, in 2014, I was clear that there were 2 identities, they had different names. They were not fluid because they looked entirely different. However, as soon as I knew they existed they started to learn to live comfortably with each other, like non-identical twins. They shared physical and emotional space with each other. Just like twins they demanded all my attention and time.I was never sure who was going to be on the sofa with me at any given time. The feminine self always seemed apologetic, looking at me as if she had just crashed the party. The masculine self appeared agitated and distracted, increasingly grateful but increasingly expectant. This person avoided counselling, avoided a 3rd person in the conversation, hid away in a pink mist, getting to know herself. There was an evident struggle in learning to share that space with their heterosexual wife. The overwhelming sense communicated was that over time she would share their perspective and that it was a matter of time more than a matter of conversation,ownership and shared responsibility .

So this was my perspective for the first 3 years

As I write this I can see my perspective has changed.

My sister rang me the other day and said ‘I notice you have started using Transgender rather than transvestite’ ‘when did that happen? Honestly????? I have no idea.

After 4 years I am clear that he is not a transvestite, he never was. He is, and always has been Trans. I have reached this stage in the journey because I read prolifically and absorb the information I need. My partner is still scared and has not reached that stage in the journey where he can provide any other definition. From his perspective there is safety in lack of definition. From my perspective meaning is everything. I gave him a definition the other day. You are AMAB; assigned male at birth, identifies as feminine. He accepted it. This is seismic movement.

I had to enable this. 4 years ago I thought someone else would be able to do that. They couldn’t because he couldn’t let them.

Perspective