She Knows

“So, um, I’m transgendered. Could someone pass the potatoes?”

Oh, if it were only that easy.

I told my wife about Sophie.

I’ll let that sink in.

Yes, she now knows.

After nearly four years of lies and hiding, of hating myself, justifying it, feeling the weight of my conscience . . . I told her.

Bob said it best when he sang:

Every step of the way we walk the line
Your days are numbered, so are mine
Time is pilin’ up, we struggle and we scrape
We’re all boxed in, nowhere to escape

(Bob Dylan,“Mississippi” from Love and Theft, 2001)

I couldn’t live that way anymore. No escape — no way out but to tell her, and may God have Mercy on my Soul.

Well, I am still among the living. I haven’t been thrown out. She is actually supportive in her way. She doesn’t understand, but she “accepts.” How much does she accept? We’ll see. This weekend is the first big test of that — she will know that I am out and about as a woman. She says she may go visit her brother this weekend. In Washington DC.

Details? W,W,W,W,H,W?

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away . . . I started planning. Actually my three loyal readers know this part. I’ve been planning on telling her for months. Assuming I’d be tossed out on my padded butt, I started making plans. Place to stay, health insurance, legal referrals. . .  you know all that stuff.

It came down to all I needed were two things: A time and money. Well, I’ll never have money so; I knew if I waited for that, I’d be communicating from the grave. Time? Hmmm.

My loyal legions also know that my mother in law (MIL) lives with us. She is a rabid, hard core Republican. How right wing? She thinks Santorum was too liberal. Yeah, that bad. How intolerant? I had my ears pierced three years ago, and she STILL gives me grief and says I look “gay.” And, to top it off, when she’s around, my wife is totally a miserable person.

So, my spies informed me that MIL was going on another cruise. Actually, she told my wife and wife told me. In any case, she would be gone for two weeks. When she’s gone, my wife goes back to being human again. So, my time would have to be early in those two weeks. Why? To give her time to process everything before MIL returned. So, I knew I would need time to actually do this talk, so it couldn’t be a night I had to go to bed early for work at oh-dark-thirty the next morning. Looking at my schedule, only one day fit the criteria: Thursday, May 3, 2012.

Having secured the date, I practiced what I would say with my therapist. I spoke to my “Big Sis.” I second guessed. I ran around in circles in blind panic while screaming like a banshee. Actually not that last bit, but I felt like it. I was scared! Yes, I am woman enough to admit that! In fact, Thursday I was a total wreck.

I waited until after our daughter went to bed. Wife wanted a shower. I had a drink or three (being me.) Texted the entire western hemisphere. Once I told her, I couldn’t “untell” her — the genie would be out and no putting it back. Finally, she came back to our “living room” (where we watch TV.) I poured us both some pinot noir and I told her I wanted to talk.

And I asked her not to interrupt me.

AndItoldherthatI’dfeltlikethissinceIwasfourandIwastransgenderedandI’dbeenlyingtoherandI
wasreallysorrybutIwassureshe’dthrowmeoutandendthemarraigeandIcan’tstandthelyinganymore
andI’mnotgayandIstillwanttobewithherandokI’mdone.

Then I took a breath. Okay, it was longer than that but you get the idea. My legs were shaking so bad, I tucked them under me. I held the wine with both hands to hide my shaking hands.

Yeah, it was like that.

And tears ran down her face. And mine. She asked me to put down my glass . . .

So she could hug me.

*cue music swell*

*audience goes “awwwww”*

She knew something was up — I’m not a good liar. She thought I was planning to leave or that I was having an affair.

She asked questions, which I answered. Lots of questions. She agreed that MIL can never know because she would absolutely go berserk. Pitch forks and torches.

And the questions still come. MIL is home now and the gloom has descended again. Wife mentioned I seem happier. And I am. The weight of the lies is gone. It’s a total “Frodo destroys the ring” feeling of being unburdened.

She still asks questions. She doesn’t want to see pictures. She asked if I thought about the surgery, and I said I had. She said that doing that would end the marriage. So there’s one boundary. I somehow think that won’t be the only one. And I know that eventually there will be a meltdown. A Reckoning.

So this weekend she may go away. Is she running? Fleeing from her husband that will be wearing a skirt and makeup? Yeah, probably. I don’t blame her. In any case, the test will be Sunday. How will she look at me? What will she say, knowing that the night before I was out as a Woman? As Sophie Lynne. With people just like me.

Now is a time for something even Scarier. The rest of my Life. What is my next step? Who am I?

Well, now that the fog of lies has lifted, the pain of This is Sharper. Clearer. Harder. My next step is electrolysis. Wife has consented. Well, I told her I already did laser and started electro, so she said to keep going. After that?

Now the search truly begins. Guess it will never end. I will always be seeking the truth of Sophie Lynne.

And that’s just fine.

Tags: closeted, featured, SOs, spouses

Category: Transgender Body & Soul