“I’m a realist not a pessimist.”
How many times in my life have I given this answer as a response to the accusation of being overly pessimistic.? A hundred times? More?
“I plan for the worst and hope for the best.”
Overthinking, anxiety, worry…true hallmarks of my being. I have no more claim to being “hopeful” in nature than I do to being “happy-go-lucky” in disposition.
So, how is it now that I find myself (beyond reason)….hopeful?
After recently coming out to my long-term girlfriend I am most certainly at my most vulnerable. My fragile state seeming ever so precarious as I carefully handle this delicate acceptance.
I truly had no expectation that my girlfriend would stick around for whatever comes next for me. She’s a smart woman. She’ll obviously leave right?
Nope. Not in my wildest dreams would I have guessed that she’d still be standing there with me after that bomb went off.
My first thought after realizing there may be some possibility of acceptance was, “Okay maybe I don’t need to transition. I can accept something less so I don’t lose whatever this is.”
Maybe I can cross-dress three times a year, she can just kind of know who I am on the inside and this will be good enough for me. Every fiber of my being telling me to minimize how bad this all really is for me.
If I protect her from the extremes of all this then maybe she’ll actually stay.
I thought this new found acceptance would take away some this urgency within me.
In fact, the opposite was true.
I became, in spite of everything, hopeful. I couldn’t see myself not fully transitioning, accepting less. With the support of the woman I love…I could really do this.
Surely this hope would fade over the coming minutes, days, weeks…
I have been receiving a constant stream of heartfelt acceptance and affirmation from my beautiful (inside and out) girlfriend.
Within 48 hours of coming out to her, the old me ceased to exist for her. She asked if I had a new name and never once used my old one afterwards. I was now Allison or Alli.
When I am with her I find myself naturally letting my guard down. Not afraid to be seen differently…even if some of my mannerisms may seem optically absurd.
We have weathered each storm as it has come our way. Each new revelation about me, about what I have kept hidden…a shock to her system. Seeing me dressed up for the first time, seeing me in makeup for the first time, discovering each painful revelation I have gone through on this website.
Each of these moments seemed to suck the air out of the room but we have survived them all.
At first my girlfriend was concerned that if I transition she may not be attracted to me anymore. This is reasonable from where I sit. Recently this has seemingly melted away. Perhaps after seeing me in makeup (and not hating it) her doubts about diminishing attraction were somewhat assuaged.
She helps me with makeup, lets me try on her clothes, is totally committed to understanding me, encourages me to be myself and in every way treats me like the woman I am…trapped here inside.
Second puberty is often spoken of among transgender people. As unlikely a concept as it may be – I subscribe to it fully.
I may be 48 but in many ways not so much. It seems I have missed out on a lot in life. My mind stuck at a much younger time. I’ll never get this part of my life back but my girlfriend helps me with this too.
Turns out she is super romantic with real me and I feel like a teenager in a new relationship. She has bought me flowers, she wants to take me out, she has bought me thoughtful feminizing gifts and even holds the door open for me (with a mischievous glint in her eyes). She is doing her absolute best to make sure I can make up for as much lost in my life as possible. I love her for everything.
Sexually, I am treated as though I am completely female. This is an amazing thing. She even recently told me that if/when I can no longer perform as a man does sexually that she is completely fine with it. This means a lot to me. A lot.
Never would I want to embarrass her with these things but I have never known love like this…not even close. I have no idea what I have done to deserve this amazing woman in my life.
I told her that when she accepted the real me that I “finally existed”. This was not hyperbole. I had hundreds of people who knew me online, a few friends in real life…
…but when she accepted me. I finally came online. I was fully real for the first time. She sees me. I am here.
A girl could get used to hope…