Well, after three and a half years with my amazing girlfriend, we’ve finally gone our separate ways – and it hurts like hell.
Georgie, as I call her on this blog (not her real name) have had our ups and downs over the years, but we’ve always kissed and made up.
Yesterday, she said she was having serious doubts about our relationship – but by bedtime, all seemed fine. More than fine, in fact. We had the best sex we’ve had for ages and then snuggled up together, basking.
Then today, she ended it all. I’m writing about it now because I don’t know what else to do. I feel completely numb – and I know that’s coming over in my writing because it’s dull and grey.
I’d been out today and was in the bath when she got back at dinnertime. We were supposed to be going out for a meal at a really nice restaurant – I thought all was fine after last night and was really looking forward to going out.
Then Georgie got home, walked up the stairs, burst into tears and told me it was all over.
Cue an hour of hugs and uncontrollable tears from both parties – two people who love each other very much and yet two people who have now split up. Bonkers.
I tried to convince Georgie to change her mind, but it was made up. As the minutes passed, we both became more and more upset – and I realised I loved her more than maybe I’d realised.
So why are we breaking up? Two main reasons, it seems. One, I don’t want children – and Georgie wants them desperately. Two, the whole “trans thing”. Great.
In terms of the first reason, I have simply never seen myself as a father. I’ve spoken to plenty of mums and dads of young children and each one has tried their best to assure me that I’d make a great dad and that I’d be smitten once little ones arrived.
Maybe so – but I just don’t see myself as a dad. Never have and don’t think I ever will. I love my life (well, apart from tonight) and don’t fancy giving up all my time to bring up kiddies.
Thing is, she’s always seen herself as a mum. I’d always felt guilty that she couldn’t be one with me – it would have been a massive compromise. I guess she’s eventually realised it’s a compromise she can’t afford to take.
Then there’s the “trans thing”. Now Georgie has dealt with this impeccably since day one. She didn’t realise I was trans when we first met – but I did the right thing and told her after a couple of weeks of dating.
Her initial reaction was that she couldn’t deal with it – but then she dealt with it admirably every step of the way. Right from first seeing me in knickers and with shaved legs, to wearing nighties to bed every night and then taking phytoestrogens and having laser on my beard. Plus all the non-binary, Mx, stuff.
Despite her initial wobble, none of this has been a big problem. She has no idea how well she’s dealt with it all – most women wouldn’t have been so accepting.
But, all being well, I have my first gender clinic appointment in September and, six months after that, I want to be taking estrogen. You all know why – boobs, hips, a waist, soft skin, less body hair. Heaven.
But one drawback is that the estrogen can cause issues “down there”. There’s no way I want to lose my little guy – he’s given me far too much pleasure over the years and the thought of going down the vagina route and dilating every day for the rest of my life does nothing for me.
But estrogen can causes issues – a loss of sex drive, shrinkage and even – though there appears to be some debate about this – the potential to make you sterile. She didn’t mention this today, but I’m sure it’s on her mind.
So there you go, that’s a bit of a recap of what’s happened. It might not read too well, but I’m not feeling at the top of my game either, so there’s little I can do about it. The tears have stopped for now and I just feel really numb.
Georgie’s a wonderful woman – everybody loves her. She’s chatty and (usually) happy go lucky, she’s loyal, trustworthy and fun, despite working far too hard.
She also scrubs up so well. I felt so proud at a big ceremony we went to in the early days because she was the most beautiful girl in the room – and there were hundreds of people there.
Yeah, she can look like a right mess if she’s just walked in after a hard day at work (can’t we all?) but she can look a million dollars effortlessly, too.
I’ll never forget last New Year’s Eve when she dressed as a farmer, with braces, checked shirt and flat cap, and looked adorable.
She’s gone to her mum’s tonight, and plans on moving back in there permanently. I’d have her back tomorrow but, knowing her thoughts on children, maybe it’s not meant to be after all.
And that really sucks. Nobody’s ever loved me a tenth as much as Georgie loves me, and I love her so much, too, though maybe I didn’t show it as often as I could have. I always thought true love could overcome anything, but I now see that I was wrong.
“I just can’t see us being together for the rest of our lives,” she said. And now the house is deathly quiet. What have I done?