You’re curious, I can tell. I can feel the curiosity two weeks in advance as I write this blog post. Two weeks before anyone except Grayson and the HerCampus editors will read it. Curious about what truth I’m going to reveal.
It has been one month since I started writing this blog. One month filled with relief, filled with love, and filled with excitement. I count down the days until the new column will be posted and eagerly watch people like the Facebook post, courtesy of Gray. I get excited, nervous, read and reread every article a hundred times over. And yet, as the first month winds down, and Grayson and I keep on with our daily lives, something nags at me. And nags at him too. Have we been giving you the full truth?
Maybe the third post is too early, I can never tell. But there is something I need to get off my chest. A conscience I need to clear. So I shelved this week’s originally planned post and followed my gut, urged on by Grayson. We think it’s time to tell you the real truth of what it is like to date a trans person.
Let’s start here: the fun is not a lie. The bonding, the triumphs and happiness at every step of transition is not a lie. There’s joy, elation, moments of pure, unfiltered euphoria. But there is more to dating a trans person, or any person, than all the good times.
When I think about what I wanted to know before dating Grayson, I think of this. I think about the nights in pain. Moments filled with crying, shaking, fear, depression, anxiety. I think about the days I walk into our apartment greeted by pure silence and a closed door. Something is wrong. I quietly open the door, slip in his room so our suitemates can’t see, and survey the area. Pillows on the ground, shoes across the room, and my boyfriend, defeated, sitting on the floor. These times in which my heart stops, in which my body reacts without thought and I spend every minute of the next however long trying to bring him back to me.
I think about the weekly Testosterone shots. A victory, definitely, but an ongoing battle too. For the one, two, three times he struck a blood vessel with the needle, leaving his face ashen white, blood dripping onto the floor, tissues and bandaids being thrown around like a miniature hospital ER. How the week after, while the bruise is still visible, his hand shaking as he picks up the syringe, ready to inflict this pain once again because there is no other option.
I think about dysphoria. I think about dysphoria more than I think about anything else. Dysphoria is a state or feeling common to most trans and non-binary people. It describes the overwhelming sense of unease in one’s own body. It can be a full body hatred, a single body part that causes pain to look at in the mirror, or can even be the anxiety one might feel when being misgendered, called by a dead name, or reminded of a traumatic event related to identity. Another person’s dysphoria can never be understood to the length and depth it extends. Thus creating perhaps the biggest divide between a person who experiences it and anyone they might love. I can try my best to empathize with Grayson during particularly bad dysphoric moments, but I will never be able to really get it. As the girlfriend of a trans man, it is my biggest enemy. The looming black cloud that I cannot fight off. It manifests as anger, sadness, or anxiety, and is never predictable. So I anticipate it, the best I can. Steering Grayson away from anything that may trigger a bad memory or self awareness. Watch his eyes and facial expressions, carefully, when I feel it is most likely to attack. And hold his hand when it comes. Dysphoria, a word that has become part of my daily dialect, was the hidden enemy I never knew existed.
This blog, though aimed at partners of trans men, is meant to enlighten people into the reality of dating a trans man. It’s goal is to not only bring awareness to trans people but to encourage thought in those that may be curious. A part of that means revealing the truth about dating a trans man: his battle is your battle. As a team you have to be ready for everything the world will throw at you. Some are normal couple issues, like fights about money or fear of the future. Others are more specific, like how do we overcome transphobic comments that no longer affect just one person (Grayson) but me too. This blog is here for education, for information to be available in a way I have never found before. And along with that comes the responsibility to be truthful, to be honest, and to be unafraid of opening your heart for a world to see. Today, I hope I did that responsibility justice.
I just wanted to take a moment here to thank everyone who has been reading along and all those who have the courage to come forward with questions. It makes me incredibly happy to see the open forum we’ve created in just a month. Please, keep them coming. As always, stop by Common Ground’s meetings or just shoot me a message and I’d love to answer!