Extremes

Things settled after ‘the’ conversation but not for long. On Sunday morning my wife accused me of not caring about our daughter… Not caring about the fact that she’ll grow up always being weird and the odd one out because her dad is a woman. Didn’t I mind that she’d be teased or possibly bullied because of what I’m doing? How can I be so selfish …

And so on. After half an hour of this I had to lock myself in the bathroom to get away. I mean *obviously* I’ve worried about this; of course I have! I seriously wondered if my wife would rather I was a woman or dead, then I wondered again if that would be better. Cue day of depression…

But … but … but …. that evening my wife comes over and says sorry. That it was a mean thing to say and that she actually hopes sometimes that if I do transition, we could remain friends. Talk about extremes … in the morning she thinks I’m going to wreck our daughters life, in the afternoon everything will probably be fine.

Whilst the latter answer is the one I prefer, I’m confused and worried about what she really thinks.

I wish the damn GIC appointment would hurry up and come.

 

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