TRANSGIRL PROBLEMS

Still here and still queer.  I’ve spent the last several weeks buried up to my eyeballs in sewing projects. I’m living the dream as the stereotypical starving artist.  Angel and I are living together now full time and it feels amazing. She may disagree. Mostly because I steal the covers and sexually accost her in my sleep. Typical dude shit right? Hey, I can’t be held accountable for the things I do while I’m asleep.  It’s not my fault she’s so damn sexy even when my eyes are closed. 

Anyway, back to the story at hand. So I’ve come across the point in my journey realizing what I should have known…that I’m a gender bender.  The last few weeks have been a constant whirlwind of emotion.  Some bad, mostly good.  I’ve grown pretty comfortable in my own skin. Because I no longer have to hide who I am, I feel like an actual person and less like a psychological anomaly.  

As far as the bending?  Well I also realize now that I bend mostly to the male persuasion.  Not necessarily in the way I look, but definitely in the way I act and feel.  The looks I’m working on.  It’s still not entirely comfortable and I contain it mostly to when I’m around Angel.  One, I don’t have a lot of dude clothes and I’m still figuring out what style I like in that aspect.  Two, the few times I have presented male in public, the looks get to me.  Angel thinks I’m hot as hell when I’m in dude mode.  I think she’s biased because she loves me. Slow but steady will win the race. Most days, I don’t wear make up, I’ve chopped off all of my hair and love my chuck’s more than my heels most of the time.

Another discovery, I prefer Angel using mostly male pronouns with me.  She has this instinctive way of knowing which way I’m blowing most days and it’s pretty awesome. I rarely, if ever, have to tell her.  It’s so comforting having a partner to know how I want to be addressed each day and NOT having to fucking explain myself.  With my ex-husband I was constantly berated for not being feminine enough.  With Angel, she doesn’t care. To her I’m the perfect girlfriend/boyfriend. I’ve never felt so much like the real me. 

Another curious turn of events; several months ago Angel took to calling me Daddy.  Yeah, yeah it started in the bedroom.  I’m the Dom in our relationship, something that just naturally fell into place.  I’m more assertive (she says bossy) than she is and I usually take the lead in most things.  Do not mistake this for me telling Angel what to do.  She has complete say over her own life.  We make our decisions about our life together.  But particularly in the bedroom, I’m her Dom.  This is a new role for me but one I’ve been struggling to hide from for a long time.  I’m just not a back seat driver kind of gal. I like having her submit to my will and she likes doing it.  She’s owned and collared.  It satisfies us and works in the dynamics of our relationship.  I am her Papa Bear and she is my Princess. 

The last few weeks have been extremely hectic for Angel and I.  She has been working a lot at various shows, I’ve been working more and more hours.  On the bright side, I finally proposed to my precious girl.  At an ICP concert no less, covered in Faygo and confetti.  After a seemingly excruciating amount of time (it was probably all of 60 seconds) she said yes! So here we are now, happily engaged and summarily planning out the freak show of a wedding we plan to have in 2017.  Prior to this momentous occasion however, Angel and I had our first real argument.  It was a prime example of exactly how difficult it is to be in a relationship with someone who works in the entertainment industry. 

I knew for weeks that I was going to propose to Angel.  In September, after we had moved in together, it became abundantly clear to me that she was the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.  Being older and wiser this time, I knew that I love everything about this incredible girl and that we have the stuff to make it work for the long term.  We are each other’s best friend.  We respect and appreciate each other’s need for individual identities outside of our relationship (something my ex never understood).  We recognize and respect when the other person may need a little space; both of us being introverts to some capacity. 

So I had everything planned out.  We were going to the concert on Thursday and I had asked Angel weeks in advance to not book anything on the weekend following the concert.  I wanted a weekend without kids just to be with my baby. We were supposed to attend an after Halloween party with some friends on Saturday.  I had planned an extra surprise as well for that Sunday.  Angel has never been horseback riding and I had made arrangements to take her.  So you can imagine how pissed I was when a week before my planned proposal, my weekend alone with her became unexpectedly full of her working. 

Angel and I work at the same place for our day jobs.  Yes, she works in entertainment, but also has an ordinary work schedule. I arrived at work early that day so I could get a workout in.  I came into her office prior to my workout to just say hello.  It was then I get the dreaded, “Some things came up for next weekend babe.  I have to work.”  Pause.  NO…not on this particular weekend.  Not on this very special I want to fucking surprise you and celebrate the proposal you know nothing about weekend.  Not another hiccup in my constant quest to find some uninterrupted time for just her and I!  Fucking Christ does it never end.  I was so incredibly livid that she would take on extra work after I had planned these things for us for WEEKS ahead of time.  I was so angry, I didn’t even let her finish and stormed out of her office to change and go work out at the gym. 

We didn’t talk all evening at work.  We did everything we could to avoid one another.  Even our coworkers noticed the tension.  The car ride home was awkwardly silent.  When we got home, she went to shower.  I needed some space so I left.  I walked.  Being snarky, I sent a nasty gram to her telling her I’d be back later and was fine in case she cared.  Yes it was petty and passive-aggressive.  It’s not how I would usually operate.  I just couldn’t contain how upset I was, which is the reason I left.  Even when I’m angry, I don’t ever want to hurt Angel’s feelings.  I know I can be extremely nasty when I’m mad.  I was hurt.  To me it seemed that, once again, her career came before I did.  All I wanted was one fucking weekend together.  One weekend I didn’t have to share her with everyone else.  One weekend where she was just mine.  So we started to argue via text.  During the course of this, she basically told me, “You knew I was an entertainer when you met me.  If you can’t handle it, here is your out.”  

I was shocked and appalled.  Did this mean she didn’t want to be with me?  Did she want me to take my “out”?  OMG, I’m planning to propose in a week!  My retort?  “If you think I give up that easily, you don’t know me at all.”  It had started to rain by this time so I had no choice but to go home.  It was terrible. The tension was so thick.  The silence was deafening.  Finally, we started to talk.  I explained things from my end.  I have to share Angel with everyone in a lot of different venues.  Because of her fan base and the various industries she works in, she’s always on her phone, answering messages, connecting with fans, writing business correspondence.  You name it, and she’s doing it.   Every single fucking day, all day long.  Sometimes I hate that fucking phone. I wanted one weekend, just one, where I didn’t have to share her with anyone.  I wanted her all to myself.  I wanted to have her and just enjoy being ENGAGED together for two damn days.  Of course she didn’t know what I had planned.  I couldn’t exactly tell her without ruining the surprise. 

Finally things calmed down enough for me to stop being mad and to listen to why she had to take these jobs.  I understood it, I just don’t have to like it.  And yes, she had very good reason to take on the work.  It’s pivotal to her career.  I know this deep down, and I understand and respect it.  Again, however, I don’t have to like it.  I agreed to take on having to be the second choice when I decided I wanted to be with Angel. Wait, no, that’s not an accurate statement. I agreed that our time together sometimes had to take an intermission. I have to look at the bigger picture.  When her career really reaches the point she wants it to, it’s going to benefit our life together.  I can’t be angry she is actively trying to achieve her dreams.  Even the entertainment that she provides that isn’t necessarily relevant to the rest of her goals, I have to stop and remember that she enjoys it and it makes her happy. The real big picture?  I don’t actually share the REAL Angel with anyone.  She provides a character, a role, a fantasy to her audience.  I get all of the things that are really her.  Her smile, her laughter, her touch and most importantly…her love.  That is solely mine.