So it’s now about four months since George and I split up. It was incredibly tough at first but then, as these things do, it got a little easier.
I stopped trying to convince Georgie that we should get back together – and we eventually became “friends”. Although we were officially friends, it never really felt like a friendship to me.
We went out for a few meals – and every time it felt like we were dating. I still love her, she still loves me, we get on like a house on fire and she looks amazing.
Recently, we went out for dinner again and this time stayed in a hotel overnight as we were quite a way from home.
The dinner was fantastic and we then went out drinking until the wee, small hours. I was pretty tipsy when we got back to the hotel, but I remember feeling really sad when we got into bed – and she was, too.
I think we hugged, there were tears, I said: let’s do the baby thing. But I remember little about it as I’d a fair amount to drink. I wanted to propose, but didn’t.
The following morning, I asked her what had happened and, on the way home, in the car, we had a good heart to heart.
It turns out my trans side was a major factor for breaking up. Previously she said that it was – but then that she’d thought about it and decided she could deal with it.
But then she said, once we broke up, she felt like a massive weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
We also spoke about babies again – and I assured her I’d like to give it a try. Obviously, if we were to get back together. I’ve thought about it a lot and looked at it more from the positive point of view instead of the negative, which is what I used to do.
So if that’s no longer an issue, that leaves (deep breath) THE TRANS THING! It’s never going to go away and she knows that – and says she’d never try to change me.
But she’s a straight girl – she likes guys. And she’s terrified that, if I ever do begin taking hormones, I’d be going too far for her. I get that, too. I’ve asked myself how I’d feel if maybe she wanted to start taking testosterone, grow a beard, have her breasts removed. I’d struggle with that, so I can see where she’s coming from with me.
It’s one thing be cool with me wearing nighties and knickers every night and day, having my eyebrows plucked, shaving my body and ever having laser on my face. But she’s terrified of me taking HRT – and though she didn’t say it – whether I’d eventually want to live as a woman full-time. Never. Going. To. Happen! Quite happy being non-binary, thanks.
So I suggested we go and get some trans relationship counselling together. And that’s sort of where we’ve left it. She says she now feels sad as she’d just got her head together – and now I’ve muddied the waters once again. But she’s agreed to give it some serious thought.
I still love her – more than ever. She’s my rock, my soulmate. I can tell her anything. She’s smart, she’s funny, she’s loyal. I love it when she’s proud of me. She completes me. She’s also getting out of her comfort zone more these days, which gives her a wonderful confident glow that makes me love her all the more.
I want to spend the rest of my life with her and, if that means delaying HRT for a little longer, then I’m prepared to do that. I think I’m too far down the road now to say I’d never do it – I know I’d regret it – but I can wait a little longer. The way things are going, it would be a minimum of a year before I could start anyway.
So there you go, dear reader. Hope springs eternal. Now we wait to find out if love is or is not enough.