Rod Stewart song title – seems appropriate as Georgie’s a big fan – she never did have any taste in music. So it’s all over now – not a shred of hope left anymore, counselling tried and failed. I’ve lost my partner and my best friend – and all because I’m transgender.
I saw Georgie last night for the fist time in weeks. January 31st was the fourth anniversary of the two of us meeting. I sent her a message to say “happy anniversary” but got nothing back.
Then, last night, we went for dinner. And for 90% of the evening, it was great. She looked amazing, she’d lost some weight, the spark was still there, crackling away in the background, the conversation was free and easy, and it flowed as it always does.
We chatted about all sorts – and then got on to the relationship counselling. She’d had three sessions – “not much to tell really” – and said that Connor and now done with her and wanted to see me. She’d also confided in one of her friends about the whole situation. No problem there – I’d told her she could.
And then, towards the end of the evening, when all the other diners had left the restaurant, she dropped the bombshell.
I’d asked her if she felt better – as if a weight had been lifted – for going for the counselling and for talking to her friend – and she just said she did feel better, but only because we’d split up. Oh. Great. Thanks for that.
I asked her if that was it then – and yep, that was it. She said she’d given the counselling a go but it hadn’t changed how she felt about me being trans – it was too much for her to deal with.
So then we just sort of sat there, feeling more and more comfortable and wanting to go home. The car ride home was awful – neither of us knowing what to say. She kept saying “sorry”.
She also bizarrely insisted I should still go for my counselling. What on earth is the point of that?! The whole idea was that it might get us back together – but it hasn’t, has it?! I don’t need counselling because I’m trans – being trans is NOT A PROBLEM – unless you make it a problem.
Then back at my place, no hug goodbye. No cheery chatter or “see you soon”. No hopes of reconciliation anymore, no moving back in together, no white wedding, no babies, no growing old together, nothing.
And then I texted her and said I don’t want to be friends. I just can’t do it. I feel like I’ve completely wasted seven months of my life. It’s been awful, so depressing. I tried to be friends after we broke up but I always wanted more – and it always felt like we were dating again when we were together.
She wrote back:
I understand but don’t like it! ☹ But I have to respect what you want and need. If you ever, ever need anything, I’ll always be here. G xxx
What I want! FFS, it’s the last thing I want. What I want is to spend the rest of my life with you, you silly girl! You can’t kill Bambi twice and think it’s OK.
Yes, I know that staying with a partner who’s transgender can be tough – and yet there are millions of couples out there who do just that.
And why do they do that? Because they f*cking love each other, that’s why! Surely LOVE has got to mean something here. WE STILL LOVE EACH OTHER!!! Surely it’s more important than leaving someone because they might get a bit curvier?!
I can’t not do the HRT thing now – and Georgie wouldn’t want me to anyway. She wants me to be true to myself, and I will be.
Part of me wishes she’d spoken to a friend who was more, shall we say, “trans aware”. The woman she did choose is lovely – but she’s a massive prude and I can imagine how shocked and horrified she’d be when she heard the news.
I also wish Georgie had read the books I bought her, or even read this blog, to educate herself more – maybe then she’d realise there’s not that much to be afraid of.
But she didn’t. She just buried her head in the sand and let the problem become bigger and bigger and bigger – until it eventually split us up and has now ended our friendship, too.
I’m crying – bloody again! – now as I write this. I am going to miss her so, so, so much. I’ve never loved anyone like that before, never met anyone so kind and easy to talk to. And now she’s gone forever.
Speaking of the blog, I checked the visitor stats at about 1.30am this morning. There was a massive spike – one visitor from the UK, but loads of page views, mostly posts about you-know-who. It was her – she’d finally visited the blog, but months too late.
And now I’m all alone. I have my amazing friends, but I want and need a loving partner. I want Georgie.
Goodbye, my lover. Goodbye, my friend.