Sunday, February 23, 2014


"Today I am thankful that I did not destroy my parents' lives (as I thought I would) when I  Had to move forward with my life, and I am prayerful that the one life I did destroy will be healed and made whole again one day..."            

Anytime something is built something else has to be destroyed.  This is a general rule, not universal, but I have found that it applies very well to transition.  You have to destroy your old life in order to build a new one.  That part, to me, was incredibly easy and amazingly fulfilling, but many have a major struggle with the deconstruction of their old lives.  I am just not thrilled with the fact that in the process of finding a life I could be comfortable with and a relationship I could be happy with, something had to be destroyed.  Yet that is the way of things, and I am finally coming to accept it.

My (old) life was actually destroyed a Long time ago.  I destroyed it because I hated it.  When I came home from a brief stint of living on my own in Florida, in my early 20's, I pronounced myself dead.  From that point on I was the walking dead, an empty shell where a human being used to be.  Could anyone ever live there again?

I carried on, went through the motions, and time passed on and on.  Not long after my "death" I met someone that brought a spark of life back into my hollow existence.  In her eyes I could see the childlike wonder that still existed deep in my heart.  Of course I was not completely dead, something lived on within me.  A spark remained that I would eventually rekindle when I began my journey to become whole, to become human.  She provided, among many other things good and bad, a reason for me to continue existing.  I had someone to take care of.

This week I had lunch with her and took a few candid pictures of her with my smartphone.  Joan has never taken good pictures because she always tenses up, closes her eyes or has an awful look when she knows a camera is pointed her way.  On this day she was loose and she knew I was taking her picture.  In a couple of those pictures I could see that look, that wonder, the joy of a child.  Some say they see that in me from time to time.  That part of me never died, maybe because I never really allowed myself to grow up. 

Looking at those pictures I see a light in her eyes I have not seen very often for a long time.  I actually think that all the years with me took something out of her.  Most people that know me today as a positive, inspirational person do not know the negative, troubled soul that lived here not so long ago.  The black hole that sucked the life and energy out of everything around me, is what she had to deal with during our time together.  Even before I started moving towards transition, before I started another relationship, I felt I had ruined her life, destroyed her. 

I no longer think that was the case.  We both came into our relationship, into our marriage, with major issues of our own, and to a great degree we brought each other down and were not good for each other.  Still a spark remained.  A spark inside each of us and a spark we shared together, though it was for the most part, not a romantic spark.  That spark was something I never wanted to destroy.

"no one's life was destroyed...I just hate to leave someone alone, who I had made a commitment to spend the rest of my life with...but I will continue to care for her somehow and she is still in my life now, and it is better for us both because it is authentic...I just hate to think of her growing old and being alone..."

So I see that there will be a life ahead for my spouse, after our divorce becomes final.  I see it in her eyes anyway.  What worries me is that she will be alone when she gets older.  We were never really good at caring for each other but at least we were not alone.  I know that what I have found with Mitchell is like nothing I have experienced before.  Unlike Joan, Mitchell is very independent, a strong man.  Yet still, he needs me and I need him.  I am certain we will be there for each other whenever we need it.  The thing that is hardest about separating/divorce from Joan is that I am leaving her unprotected.  Alone. 

So now, I have a confession to make....

For 14 months, since my spouse walked away from our house, I have held the notion within my head that she would come back one day.  This has not been a complete secret to those who know me or those that read my blog.  I don't mean I want her to come back to our marriage, that would not be good for either of us.  What I have maintained is a desire for her to come back and live in the guest house in our back yard, the place that I am sitting right now writing this blog and the place that I spent most of my time at home.  I still feel somehow this home is hers: guest house, main house, yard, all of it. 

She always wanted a house.  When we first got married we actually had dreams of having a house, having somewhat normal lives and being happy.  We both wanted all of those things, it just was not right and it was not meant to be.  All of the years we spent living in the trailer, I heard over and over how much she would love a real house for us to call our own.  When we were finally able to get a house, I was more happy for her than I was for me.  I felt this was her house and since she's been gone, I have kept the light on for her. 

I really have not done much with the house since she left.  The house is grieving, it misses her.  In some ways I have let it go and that seems to have gotten worse in the last few weeks.  When Mitchell comes I try to straighten out the areas of the house we spend time in, but the in the rest of it the the junk piles up.  It's like I am living here as a drug addict, without the drugs.  The house needs attention and I have not wanted to deal with it.  I've been waiting for her to come back. 

I know an awesome future awaits me and I'm very excited about it.  The prospect of Mitchell coming here to live eventually and bringing his kids, at least on weekends and possibly more, has my mind spinning with ways I want to fix the house up, organize it, rearrange it and bring it back to life.  I am probably coming to that turbid moment where the future meets the past, as least as far as my house is concerned.  Strangely, I have maintained an imagine in my mind of Joan living in the little house, Mitchell and I (and possibly his kids) living in the big house, and us all being one big happy family.  At least Joan would be like a roommate, if not a member of the family.  Sadly, or happily, I just confirmed this week that this is not going to happen.  The sadness I feel right now will soon be turned around to happiness, you can bet on it.
Deep is the Night

As I have stated here before, nights are by far the hardest times here at the house.  When Mitchell is here it is all good, I can relax, go to bed at a reasonable hour, feel good about being here.  Maybe its just that I am lonely and being in this house alone is too much for me.  I know that is going to change one day, maybe not too far into the future, and I know I am incredibly lucky to have someone extremely special in my life and to have that to look forward to.  Still, when I think about Joan being alone, I do not like the thought.

Perhaps this goes back to the lessons I learned from having the Little Dog in my life, back in 2012.  I learned (hopefully) how to let something I care for go.  I never had to do that before, except when elderly loved ones like my grandparents died.  I found that Little Dog a good home and I gave her away, even though it was very painful.  Maybe it is hard to let go of my spouse because I have had so few people in my life.  I don't have brothers or sisters, the extended family was very small and is now nonexistent and I have had very, very few friends throughout my life.  My family is just my parents and I, and now Mitchell, and perhaps his kids later on.  I think that as far as family I would much rather add to than subtract.

Soon, it seems, my divorce will be final and the destruction of my marriage will be complete.  I am going to say that is a good thing.  As far as Joan is concerned, people tell me I am going to have let her take of herself, after the settlement.  I know she will still be in my life as she is now, a very close friend.  Something tells me that I will still be taking care of her in certain ways for as long as I possibly can, even though I do hope she can become more independent and maybe even find someone else to care for her one day.  I just know now, for sure, that she is not coming home........


  1. If I could or would put my story into words it would be eerily similar, maybe just two transwomen or maybe its quite common.
    You write beautifully,good luck.
    Ps kids are great, I have 5 girls, 3 are step daughters its not easy at first if you love them they will feel it and come around.

  2. Separating is hard is hard to do and yet you seem to have made it thru these turbulent times and are coming into your own. I hope that you will look at this spring as a rebirth of hope and this will invigorate you to fix up the house for your visitors as well as for yourself to enjoy. I'd love to see what such an incredible person as yourself can do as a decorator. love ya hun