Specifically, My Significant Other
There is someone very special in my life, and I feel truly (and this is one of the rare times I’ll say this word) blessed. I feel blessed because I feel more than just lucky and more than just happy. I’ve found someone who helped me find my happiness, helped me build it, helped me nurture it, and who has helped me keep it.
We’ve been together for 4 years, enough to know enough about each other to read each other’s minds (ALL THE TIME, seriously, sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s creepy). Enough to have been through enough to know how crazy we are, and if it’s the kind of crazy we’re OK with.
I call her my girlfriend, but she’s much more than that. She’s as much a part of my life as I am (in mine, and in hers). She worries when I worry, although to be honest I worry enough for the both of us. I’ve helped redefine her, and she’s helped redefine me. And together we explore this unknown world and learn what we can. We never really argue. Well, we never really disagree much. We just discuss, as in debate, analyze, lay out the options and explore, and come to a conclusion. It helps that we are both very level headed, so whenever we do disagree, we calmly proceed to discuss the issue at hand. Without her, I would not be who I am.
It has become almost impossible to talk about my experiences in first person, since she’s always part of everything I do. We went to the movies this weekend. We went on vacation. We are going to have surgery. We are transgender. Yes, WE are. Because whatever I go through, she goes through. Which means that everytime I question my gender, she questions my gender, and her gender, and just gender; she feels my dysphoria with me, and she knows when I’m comfortable with myself, and when I’m not; everytime I face discrimination, she faces discrimination.
But enough about me (although it is about me, always). Significant Others also have their own concerns and fears, which by default become my concerns and fears. “What’s for dinner?” and “who will do the laundry?” are common concerns she expresses. But there are also questions like “what am I?” and “what do people perceive me as?” and… well she’ll just have to fill us in later.
Although she has gone far beyond the definition of supportive, one of her main delusions is that she’s not supportive enough. She told me that sometimes she hesitates when saying something for fear I might disagree or take it the wrong way (not that I ever do), and make me feel as if she’s not on board with everything. “Well,” I said to her, “being supportive doesn’t mean agreeing with me all the time. It means challenging me enough to think so that I can make the right decision.” And thus she continued on to express her fears, concerns, and worries.
Statistics Don’t Lie