“She said she loved me
I guess I never knew
But do we ever, ever really know?
She said she’d meet me on the other side
But I knew right then, I’d never find her…” – Queensryche (I Don’t Believe in Love)
There it was. Just a picture of one of her friends sitting at a restaurant with their new boyfriend and their kids. They were all smiling, clearly happy in the moment. A family.
My girlfriend was happy for her friend (as she should be). Her friend had finally found love and the “sex was amazing”.
For anyone else this would have been no big deal.
I fell apart.
This heteronormative scene was all my girlfriend really wanted.
She would never have it with me. I had broken part of her heart forever.
I could never see us being together in a picture ever again or imagine her smiling beside me.
A heart can only break so many times.
I don’t think I believe in love anymore.
I mean the kind of love where you are utterly compelled to support and love each other in a sacred partnership for all time.
Where you can’t imagine not being together. Where you refuse to ever let it happen.
This is the curse of the hopeless romantic. Like flat earthers…we believe this shit is real.
I grew up in a loveless home. Nobody cared about me or paid any attention to me other than to punish me for being “a bad kid”.
I was as cynical about love as I could possibly be.
Then I met her and everything changed.
For once in my life, I felt my soul connected to another.
I swear, to this very day I can feel her from wherever I am. I could be a thousand miles away…
This wasn’t a one-sided affair either. Aside from any weird psychic connection (that was my bullshit) – she said she felt this too.
I was her “forever person”. She was mine. We called our relationship a “fairy tale”.
At the time this meant it was like a dream for us both. Now it takes on a whole different meaning – this was make-believe.
I have no idea how I ever allowed myself to believe differently.
In January 2019 I decided to break up with my girlfriend rather than come out to her as transgender. I knew she’d never stay with me so what was the point of outing myself to her? I’d save us both the grief. (It’s sad that I was really right this whole time – Alli)
I had hurt her though and this felt bad. She thought I might have been cheating on her. I’d rather be trans than a cheater.
So, I sent her a letter I had never intended to send.
She was shocked at the revelation but then so was I when she said she didn’t want the relationship to end.
This would take some getting used to but we could stay together she said.
My heart soared. She called this “our second fairy tale” one time. She said she was “in love with Allison”.
Then I began to transition…and she started to have second thoughts.
Fairy tale once again meant “make-believe”.
I feel so connected to her. I believed in love and I believed it would prevail with us.
Now I don’t. I don’t believe in love.
“I’m just not attracted to women.”
“I can’t be a lesbian.”
These words haunt me. I just wanted her to make an exception and love me, be attracted to me. Just me…a person.
I mean I don’t even look like a woman. Probably never will.
Maybe that’s the bigger point. I am and always will be the abomination that I feel like.
An absurd caricature…at best.
My heart is broken beyond repair.
I have never once in my life felt like I had a family or a home.
Through love and connection, I came to know that “home” wasn’t necessarily a place. It can be a person.
She is my home. The world disappeared when we were together.
I can’t imagine a life without her but now I have to.
“I’m just not attracted to women.”
“I can’t be a lesbian.”
How did I keep hoping? I knew she was trying to accept me but I conveniently pushed those words aside. It was easier to not hear them…for my heart not to break.
It’ll take a legit act-of-God miracle.
It’s not like I don’t understand but the reality is she won’t be seen in public with me, won’t acknowledge my (trans) existence to most people she knows, won’t connect with me on Facebook, and after four-and-a-half years won’t live with me…
…and yet still I hope. Why?
Because our love is true love. She is my “forever person”.
I will love her forever. I would literally die for her.
She is still trying. I don’t know why. (Truthfully, I don’t want her to stop trying – Alli) .
She feels such tremendous guilt, I’m not sure there is any other reason than that.
Dumping me because I’m trans probably feels horrible to her.
Keeping her, when I have no business doing so, feels horrible to me.
I love her. I want her to be happy.
She should have new pictures of her new love and herself smiling beside one another. Happy for their future together. Looking forward to making memories…being a family, making a home.
She can’t picture that ever happening with me. I can’t either anymore. I can’t allow myself to…
Sometimes I think I’d rather her break up with me and admit I existed than carry on this way.
I exist. Please don’t take that away from me.
Have a good laugh with your friends. They’ll understand. Nobody wants to date a trans woman anyway.
If I need to lose my everything…at least admit I was.
So here I am. Life is falling apart all around me. I have no family. I have no home.
…and no hope for either.
I can’t imagine life without her and it kills me inside that she can imagine life without me.
To never feel my touch again, to never travel together, to never wake up beside me or fall asleep in my arms, to never let me make dinner for her after a busy shift, to never feel our soft kisses…
…none of this ever again.
A price I’m not willing to pay…but this is hardly up to me. I have no say in this.
I walk on eggshells afraid to assert myself, knowing full-well that our relationship is hanging by a thread.
I grieve our relationship over and over. Each time we spend time together I expect it to be our last.
What can I do?
I have decided to not transition at all. The worst part of this is that I highly doubt this will save our relationship.
She has said a few times, “You can’t put the genie back in the bottle.”
Maybe…but I can try.
One of the worst parts for me is to no longer have any of the benefits of Hormone Replacement Therapy.
My skin won’t be soft, my body will begin to change back, hair will start to grow where I don’t want it to, and the tremendous mental effects of Estrogen will no longer be a thing…and I will be stuck with the breasts I have developed…a freak. I fear what it will feel like to have testosterone once again coursing through my veins…
I am ruined. I did this to myself.
In tears, crying I told her, “I never wanted my life to be like this.”
At that moment I once again silently prayed to God to take this away from me.
I have never felt so hopeless in my entire life. Scared and hopeless…
…and alone. The most terrible of feelings.
I’m at work unable to function. Trying to fight back tears.
After work I’ll go home and stare off into space until bedtime…feeling the pain of what my life has become over and over again.
I thought we’d be together forever. I can’t imagine any other life.
She is my everything…still my forever person.
Me? Just an empty shell where a person used to be.
All my hopes and dreams for the future are in pieces.
I am shaking…an absolute wreck.
There is no outlet for this hurt.
I dreamed of us living together and being married. I want to be there for her every day until the day I die…
…but that’s just me. This is no fairy tale. There will be no happy ending. There will be no miracle that makes things like they were.
I don’t believe in love.