Hi All! I'm Jezahbelle and I've been with BT for about 9 years; we were friends for 2 years before that. Below is a cross post from my journal. In put is great.
For probably the last 2-3 weeks BT has not been doing well. I found why one night when, while eating dinner, I noticed that he had remnants of eyeliner and lipstick on. We began talking and he told me that he was having serious gender issues. This was not a surprise; I think much of what has attracted me to him is that he has a feminine sense about him. And over time this has been more physically expressed. He already had long hair when we got together, but then he started dying it; he wears women’s underwear fairly often; he does his toenails and waxes his eyebrows; recently, he shaved off his goatee. But I guess none of this feels like enough. So, he is going to go see a therapist who specializes in these sorts of issues. I hope she can help him. He is so sad and unsure of what he wants. It kills me. And scares me. I mean, all of the things that I have listed above don’t bother me, although some took a little while to get used to. But how much more? And will that even make him happy? It makes me feel so uncertain, and I know it makes him feel that way too—afraid that he will need something that I will be unable to accept and it will end us. In the meantime, I have no one to talk to about it. So strange. I set out to live my life with honesty; I thought it would be the one thing that saved me. But really, everything that matters is secret now. Just the opposite. But maybe secrecy will be my savior. So, we talk and cry and yell and talk and cry some more.
For probably the last 2-3 weeks BT has not been doing well. I found why one night when, while eating dinner, I noticed that he had remnants of eyeliner and lipstick on. We began talking and he told me that he was having serious gender issues. This was not a surprise; I think much of what has attracted me to him is that he has a feminine sense about him. And over time this has been more physically expressed. He already had long hair when we got together, but then he started dying it; he wears women’s underwear fairly often; he does his toenails and waxes his eyebrows; recently, he shaved off his goatee. But I guess none of this feels like enough. So, he is going to go see a therapist who specializes in these sorts of issues. I hope she can help him. He is so sad and unsure of what he wants. It kills me. And scares me. I mean, all of the things that I have listed above don’t bother me, although some took a little while to get used to. But how much more? And will that even make him happy? It makes me feel so uncertain, and I know it makes him feel that way too—afraid that he will need something that I will be unable to accept and it will end us. In the meantime, I have no one to talk to about it. So strange. I set out to live my life with honesty; I thought it would be the one thing that saved me. But really, everything that matters is secret now. Just the opposite. But maybe secrecy will be my savior. So, we talk and cry and yell and talk and cry some more.