Our life has gotten infinitely more complex since Jason first wrote about his hope for finding a new partner at the end of 2019 and then again earlier this year. He welcomed me into his life a few months later and that hope vanished into the distance while at the same time never being closer. He’d never find someone to love until he understood the nature of his identity. Ironically, I’ve noticed plenty of pretty girls paying plenty of attention to us that Jason ever saw on his own.
Which begs the question now what? How can we make the next ten years the polar opposite from the last ten? How do we find the person to make this journey more meaningful? More complete. More complex. How do we add a dose of estrogen to the mix to bring both balance and beauty? All very tough questions to answer for any person, but one that is particularly difficult to answer given a lifetime of being mostly alone. It feels baked into our DNA despite not being particularly fond of not having someone to cherish. Someone to love. Our genderfluid identity certainly doesn’t make things easier in that regard.
Or maybe it does? It definitely garners us a lot of notice, mostly positive, from places previously unseen. It does mean going out as often as possible to give the universe a chance to bring someone into our life. This can be exhausting for me given the reality of being a woman with a man’s body. That is the baseline of my existence and brings all the added pressures one might expect. Retreating into our home becomes an easy and peaceful respite from that unpredictable reception, yet I am obligated to emerge from that safe space confidently and regularly to achieve our shared goals.
It has become an extended exercise in faith. A belief that unseen forces are working behind the scenes to deliver the right partner for the next stage of our growth. That a woman will appear to give our kid another role model and friend as they get older and face challenges that we are biologically incapable of adding anything new to the conversation. Despite living as a woman half of the time, this body of ours will always be subject to the hormonal inconsistencies that come from a steady supply of testosterone. A softer touch would be a very welcome addition to our life.
Not that Jason is particularly hard these days. He’s spent years detoxifying his masculinity to the point that I could emerge from the shadows. He’s been diligent and dedicated to making our home a safe and predictable place for our child to find and nurture their best life. He established firm boundaries and a flexible approach to coparenting with our child’s mother. He’s done the work necessary to create a foundation upon which we can build this new life with confidence and character and charity. An exciting and sustainable future state that is now waiting to be put into play.
Which leads us back to my role in that effort. Jason is never going to be That Guy. He won’t be out there asking attractive women for their numbers or inviting them on dates. That’s never been a road he felt comfortable navigating and is unlikely to change. I don’t have a similar historical weakness in that regard, but I have different insecurities to overcome given my physical appearance. I’ve thrown out a few drunken hints that didn’t go anywhere, so now I am concentrating on learning how to read those subtle signals many women use to show interest in a potential partner.
What would be amazing is to have a person we’re already attracted to confess their own attraction to us first. Since that hasn’t ever happened prior to my arrival, it is unlikely to start happening now. Even with me out in the world loudly shaking up our status quo, I still need to develop muscles for us both that haven’t existed before now. It’s kind of scary and quite intimidating. It adds a level of angst and urgency to what is already an intense reality. We aren’t getting any younger, after all, and every year that goes by the spectrum of potential partners seems to narrow exponentially.
All that being said, I decided to stay in tonight just like Jason did last night. Usually, our non-kid weekends have each of us going to our VFW post in uptown Minneapolis for karaoke and conversation. Placing ourselves directly in the path of fate for something, anything, to change as it relates to finding our next partner. Each night out ends exactly the same way. Going home alone without meeting someone new. Or engaging someone we already knew in an exciting new way. A lingering romantic paradigm that is terribly familiar and increasingly uncomfortable to take laying down.
It is the point between familiarity and discomfort where fundamental shifts can happen, and we’re here for it!
