The Pronoun Game

Can I just say, I hate pronouns. I never gave much thought to how pronouns influence our assumptions about people. Now it seems I’m constantly struggling with when and where it’s okay to use which pronoun. Thankfully, B isn’t offended by my struggles. I think he realizes that it’s hard to stick with his preferred pronouns when there are family members and friends that either don’t know or are less than supportive. I think this blog will help me get more used to the idea that I have a husband and I should refer to him as he. Well, except at work or with certain people. Strangely, the only person I don’t struggle with using male pronouns with when we talk is our daughter. She turned seven a few days ago, and she has taken to the use of “Daddy” and “he” with no trouble. I don’t really know why. Sometimes I think it’s easier that our marriage is going from a lesbian partnership to a heterosexual partnership. Maybe our daughter is relieved to have a Mom and Dad now, like all the other kids.

We had a small rough patch with her in the first few weeks after B came out to her. See, she had asked B if she could call her Daddy. “You just seem more like a Dad,” she said. This was right around the time B was making the decision to transition. He had a discussion with her about his transition. He explained that sometimes boys were born as girls, or girls were born as boys, and they had to go through a process to be their real gender. As you can imagine, a six-year-old came up with some questions. For a few weeks, she would ask me things like, “So I’m just a girl and not supposed to be something else, right?” She asked some form of that question about me, the dog, and other people we know.  I found myself talking to her about chromosomes, biological sex, and the difference between sex and gender. (B tells me all the time that I get way too technical with her in my explanations, but I think it’s important to talk to kids in a way that challenges them to understand complicated issues. If you constantly over-simplify things, I feel that they will always settle for the simple answers, instead of looking deeper. It’s just a quirk I have.) My daughter is very much a typical girl, and we frequently have discussions about gender stereotypes and how toys and colors and activities are not really gender specific. As you can imagine, the kids at her school have a very different opinion, so she has a hard time. I know she used to really like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, but she stopped liking them because the little boys in her class made fun of her. It’s hard to convince a first grader that she should like whatever she likes, regardless of what the kids at school say.

We made a mistake early on when we told our daughter about B’s transition. B hadn’t told his grandparents yet, and our daughter (I’m gonna call her Elsa to make it easier, and because Frozen!!) Elsa stays with them quite a bit because our work and school schedules are crazy. He asked Elsa to not call him Daddy around them. This turned out to be a major problem that Elsa struggled with. She had some anxiety issues, and we finally figured out that it was too stressful for her to try and keep B’s secret. So B wrote his grandparents a letter about his transition. He thought maybe that would give them the space to have their own reaction without lashing out at him. I guess that partially worked…his grandmother vented to me instead. So not fun, by the way. She went on a predictable tirade about how this “silliness” would affect Elsa. How Elsa is used to B being her mom, and it was confusing for her, and no wonder she was having anxiety. Of course, she railed about how B would never be a real man, and how the whole idea was just ridiculous. It was really hard to sit there and not react in a way that would completely damage the relationship. I just said that Elsa seemed to be doing fine with the whole thing, except that she was upset that other people might not understand. She didn’t say much else, and right now it’s just something we don’t acknowledge with them. Denial….I guess it works for some people.

We went through something similar with Elsa about school. She was upset because some kids were teasing her that she didn’t really have a Dad. B and I went to a surprisingly productive meeting with Elsa’s teacher. We didn’t get overly political or demanding with the woman. We calmly explained the situation and asked if she could have some sort of lesson about accepting differences in each other’s families. She was very understanding and helpful. She said that there were several kids who had different family situations (living with grandparents or other extended family instead of their parents) and a couple of students whose religion made their lives different from their classmates’ lives, and that a lesson about being okay with these differences would benefit everybody. I was really impressed with how she handled the whole thing. She made sure that our daughter knew she could come to her with any problems. It really helped Elsa get comfortable at school again. It also showed us that you never know how someone will react to the situation. It was a nice surprise.

I’m trying to be as accepting of change as my daughter has been. I’m trying to come to terms with my own fears. I’m trying to get comfortable with the new reality of my marriage. It’s amazing how the difference of a few letters makes such an impact on our lives. He, not she. Male, not female. Him, not her. Such a small difference, yet it changes so much.

Committed

February 2, 2015 was our tenth anniversary.

Later that month, B started taking testosterone shots.

Florida was all in for marriage equality, so we started planning a wedding. We had a vacation planned for the end of March, so we thought it would be the best time to make our relationship official. We both felt it was important, but I struggled a bit with my feelings. I was scared out of my mind. I have identified rather strongly for the last decade as a lesbian. I am not a “gold star” lesbian…I have actually had more male sexual partners than female. I think that was more a product of my upbringing and location than an indication that I was bisexual or something. I grew up in a very small town. I went to a tiny Catholic school with the same 10-15 kids in my class for 7 years. Then my parents sent me to a Catholic boarding school. I was shy and awkward. My first love didn’t show up until I was a Senior. She was a sophomore transfer student. I lost my virginity in the girls’ dorm. I told you, I’m a lesbian cliche.

The inevitable breakup sent me spinning into a depression. She went back to her boyfriend, and I spent the next 7 years having mostly meaningless one-night stands or brief affairs with various men. I could click on a physical level with guys enough to maintain my denial about my sexuality, but emotional connections only happened with women, who usually did not return my feelings. I didn’t come out fully to myself or to my family until B.

When B decided to transition, I kinda felt betrayed at first. I mean, we had planned our lives together, had a child together, and were just waiting for marriage laws to change somewhere close by to make everything legal. Then, in a matter of a few months, my future wife was now my future husband. Talk about a mind fuck. You know, I wasn’t that concerned about some of the more radical physical changes. What really had me scared was the thought that my fiancee would become someone I didn’t know and wasn’t attracted to. I thought about the men I had slept with, and I knew that I couldn’t take it if I became emotionally disconnected with B the way I was with them. I felt like B had pulled me to the edge of a high cliff and asked me to jump.

Everything was happening all at once. I felt like I was just supposed to say it was all no big deal. B actually said to me at one point, “Are you in love with me? Or are you in love with my gender?” And part of me was thinking, “I’ve only ever been in love with women. How can I know that I will still love you when you are going to be a man?” Some days I feel like I still don’t know. Some days I feel like it will all be fine. It’s one hell of a roller coaster.

Unless you have been living under a rock, you have heard about Alabama’s same sex marriage debacle. A federal court ruling made it legal, but only a handful of counties were complying, then there was another court ruling that made most counties fall in line…for about a week and a half. Then it all went away again when our Supreme Court intervened. We took advantage of that small window, and we were one of four same sex couples to receive a license in our county. We pulled together an actual wedding in one month. It was crazy. But I have never felt as happy as I did standing in front of our family and friends pledging my love and my life to B. In that moment, I wasn’t scared. I looked at everything we had already been through, and I knew we could get through anything else. Now I just have to remind myself of that feeling when things get crazy.

We were married in the middle of March. The last couple of months have been nuts. We have been so busy with work and school that there hasn’t been much time for anything else. But I know that there are issues lurking under the surface. And I’m still scared sometimes.

Talking about these feelings has been incredibly difficult. Sometimes it seems like B has tunnel vision. The transition is the only thing that matters. It can feel like my goals and needs are being ignored. B reacts poorly to any negative aspect of transitioning that I bring up. As much as our schedules allow, we utilize a therapist. It’s a constant struggle. Now that I have you caught up to the present day, I can really start getting into detail about the changes I see in my…husband. Sorry, it still feels weird to say. Another struggle for another day. I haven’t really used that AA mantra “One day at a time” in years, but I find it helpful right now. Tomorrow could always bring something different….for better or worse.