#slightly.

for me, the hardest part about being the cis one in a c4t relationship is that every single waking moment i am terrified of being seen as a chaser by more than just a single ex of mine. being seen as a chaser terrifies me so much that i made myself believe my gf could never want to date me because i somehow was one and didn’t know. because, in my head, the cis girl pining after the hot trans woman MUST be a chaser. THAT is how bad my anxiety about it is.

i keep having these worries, irrational ones, like:

what if her friends think im a chaser if they hear me talking about how pretty her eyes are, especially with that spark she has when she talks about how transitioning makes her happy? (her eyes are so so blue. they’re bright and they’re full of life, and i will never forget seeing her near the end of her hospital stay. eyes bright in a way i hadn’t seen since the beginning of our relationship)

or about how soft estrogen has made her skin, because i know specifically the fact it’s an effect of her hrt is what makes her happy? (she wants a body cream that i have which will make it even softer. her skin is so smooth, even unshaven. her face is so soft. i love the way it burns ever so slightly when i catch a spot of hair on her body the wrong way. it’s a wonderful contrast i can’t get enough of)

what if they think im a chaser for saying that i love her voice, especially when she doesn’t put effort into pitching it up? (she’s a tenor. she’s my favorite tenor in the whole entire world. when she sings pop songs by soprano cis women, or punk rock songs by whiny cis men, my heart bursts because i hear HER so clearly. shes so girly, and she’s a tenor. she’s girly BECAUSE she’s a tenor. she’s classically trained. why would i hate the singing voice that got her into competitions and specialized programs while being one of the two most common vocal parts?)

i am especially worried about them thinking the way i can’t help but worship her body is something i should be ashamed of. i could write a whole novel about her body and how there are days i see her splayed out and have to stop and just look. it’s not very ‘dominant’ of me to do so, but my throat closes up to anything but a prayer for whoever is responsible for putting an angel into my bed and handing her my heart. i can’t say anything to her, because it feels like every time i had to hold back saying i loved her way too early into our relationship. i want to propose right then and there, with a collar or with an engagement ring i can’t tell, because she has never looked more beautiful than laying naked in my bed, eyes wide and shining, holding my hands while waiting for me to make a move. i can see her calculating gaze, a witty retort getting prepped onto her tongue, and the rapid breaths she takes with shiny lips.