This is a little something I wanted to write about, but was waiting for a cue from outside. A couple of days ago, the Iowa Supreme Court ruled that the state's ban on gay marriage was unconstitutional. On top of that, I just finished watching a documentary on MSNBC: "Born in the Wrong Body - Tying the Knot". It told the stories of two couples trying to get married: one half of each couple was transgendered, a transman in one, and a transwoman in the other. It was nice seeing these people get to places they wanted to be in their lives, and to see them finding real love. I miss love.
I wasn't involved in too many relationships before I got married. I've written before of what a disaster my marriage was. I will not soon repeat that. The first few years after D left, I told people that I didn't want to get into another relationship. I was finally on my own, and I didn't want to enmesh myself with another person until I sorted myself out. I occasionally met someone who found me interesting, but that interest always evaporated after they found out about me being trans. I've also met a few people who didn't want to be with me because I'm pre-op. I don't know that I'm ever going to be post-op, so if that's going to be an issue, it's here to stay, the period at the end of my sentence.
On a related note, I was propositioned in the parking lot at Wally World last spring. I was putting my groceries in the truck when this car pulls up. The window slides down and this brother (can a white girl call a black man a brother?) tells me that he was "checking me out" in the store, and was wondering if we could "hook up". All at once, I was both flattered and put-off. I took a breath and told him I was in a relationship, and that my girlfriend didn't like boys. I was telling a story, but oh how I wished it was true. He drove off in a huff. Afterwards, I realized he just wanted sex, quick and dirty. I haven't had sex in almost six years.
I can only imagine the species of hell I might've experienced these last few years if I had still been attached to someone. I see the travails of my friends in those circumstances, and I feel empathy, but I wouldn't want to be where they are for anything. It's a good thing, I guess, that I have no children. It's going to be exciting enough trying to explain to my nephews that their uncle wants to be their aunt. There is one being in this world who accepts me unconditionally, regardless of what I'm wearing, and that's Spot, my cat. As long as I keep him fed, we're good.
In the meantime, I have met a few lovely people who like me and support me, and are totally okay with my transness (is that a word?). Most of them, alas, are in good, strong relationships, though. When I was younger, I might've approached them. I was a big believer in the second coming of free love in the early 90s, and I was bi and open to open relationships. Now though, I would never poach on somebody else's relationship. I'd rather fall on my sword. People keep telling me that a special someone is out there, but I don't know that I believe in that any more than I believe in everyone's favorite Imaginary Friend.
That's enough of that.