I want a relationship. Kind of. I guess. Do I? Damn it, I don’t know! Why are we wired that way, to seek out the companionship of others, especially when we’ve been hurt to the very core? I’ve been hurt that way, making me curse the day I was even born. That’s a special kind of hurt. We’ve all been hurt somehow. We’ve all hurt someone as well.
I was talking about it to a friend, how I would like to meet someone, but that being Stef complicates things. I’ve mentioned it a few times, but most women want their men to be men. Some women are able to accept a crossdressing lover/boyfriend/husband. Some cannot. My ex-wife couldn’t, and I hadn’t dressed in years when we got together and throughout our marriage.
But I wonder about it, if I could accept a woman who wanted to be a man, who dressed as a man. Would I be receptive to that? If I were perfectly honest, I don’t think I would. So I get it. It’s asking a lot of a person to accept my duality. It keeps me from seeking someone out. Being rejected hurts, but I’m not one to hide this side of myself, even back when I was trying to hide it from myself. I’m honest about it to those I want to date. I value honesty in a relationship, and this is a big thing to hide.
The one thing she did share with me, by friend I was talking to, is that I seem happier now that I have in the past. When she first met me, and we met at work, I was angry. I was a ball of barely contained rage. I hated everyone. I especially hated women. I once said the only good woman was a dead woman. Yeah, not a recommendation for one’s sanity. I’m ashamed to admit it, but it’s the truth.
I’ve let go of that anger. It’s been a long process of healing, of forgiving, of acceptance. I had to forgive my ex’s for breaking up with me, for cheating, for breaking my heart. I had to accept that we weren’t meant to be together. I had to let go of that resentment. I had to come to understand that there wasn’t anything wrong with me. Scratch that. I’m still working on that.
But accepting Stefani is really what turned the corner. I’ve had to realize that happiness could only come by accepting me for me. I had to stop pretending to be someone I’m not. I’m not some normal man. I’m this odd duck, an other in a world of homogeneity. Once I accepted it, I learned that I’m not as unique as I thought. I’m not alone in this struggle.
And some of my sisters struggle with their love lives, too. Some have significant others that accept them for who they are. Some don’t. Some hide their femininity in a cloak of shame and despair. I’m still hiding, but not as carefully as I once was. I’m more of an open secret at this point.
But I’ve not yet made it to that place where I can be comfortable in an amicable companionship. Oh, there are a few guys who would be glad to make me theirs. I get hit on, at least online, but I recognize it for what it is, fetishists wanting to sate some deep-seated desire to fuck a tranny. I’m not a fetish! I’m an actual human being, thank you very much!
I’m a romantic at heart, and a lonely dreamer yearning for someone to make me whole. That’s a stupid dream, in all honesty. It’s something that I’m coming to learn lately, that I have to be the one to make me whole. I’m the one that makes me complete, that I should never yield that control to another. I’m responsible for my happiness, and if fate should allow me to meet someone, then my happiness will only grow from within me instead of being handed to me by someone else.
Regardless, I do want love. I want someone to hold in the lonely hours of the night. I want to be held as I slumber. I want a family of my own. I want that, as I always have, but have heretofore been denied.
Yet, as the saying goes, hope springs eternal. I have a lot to be hopeful for, more so than at any other time in my life. It’s nice to finally find acceptance with my friends. It’s nice to know that I have permission to be me. In the end, 2016 has been good to me. I look forward to 2017.