"That Girl"

I spent about four days trying to rework a post entitled, "Great Expectations," all about the intricate line between hope and (perhaps) self-delusion. This post became my (nearly full length) autobiography, as I started charting and mapping out my thesis, supporting evidence, and even concocted an "anger flow-chart." (No, I'm totally serious! Now I wanna trademark that shit!)

What I found was a whole lot of sumpthin'... But I'm not quite sure what yet. So, let me step back, and try to fill you in on some of the back story:

My most recent ex started calling me again, after several months of no contact. She called for my birthday in early December, where we talked for a few hours and got caught up. I basically said that her decision to break up with me was one of the best things that's happened to me in years. (I didn't mean it rudely, I swear!) What I meant was that it was the catalyst I needed to get my shit together, and get back to my self-development. Basically, I was letting my anxiety drive my actions and reactions, which understandably was an uphill approach towards contentment. Like a county fair goldfish recently won by a highly "distractable" seven year old – projections for a healthy life did not look good.

During our several month hiatus from communicating, I started to understand just how much of myself I forfeited in order to be what I assumed she wanted. In the beginning she referenced several of her other boyfriends' traits and habits that confused her, or drove her crazy. Rather than let the potential jealousy set in, I tried to make it a positive and use those kernels of information as sign posts for which direction to plot in our new relationship. It seemed easy enough... Boyfriend A did this, Boyfriend B did that, and Boyfriend C would never do this other thing that totally became an issue. So, if I could chart a new course, I could ensure avoiding those metaphorical landmines that she was clearly, and decisively communicating would not work for her. The problem was that these men became ghosted images haunting my presence with her.

I think anyone might naturally feel a little uneasy when their current partner tends to talk about their pasts a bit too much, but for me it was double trouble, since this was my first "new" relationship post transitioning. I had been in a relationship on and off during the early stages of my old switch-a-roo, and then got together with a significant ex from college after that, but this was my first true attempt at making a go of it from scratch. I felt really nervous that I wouldn't be man enough, let alone all of the extraneous traits and circumstances that we all have to negotiate. I basically scared myself straight. Well...

While talking to my best friend about the matter, I realized that I'm "that girl," – the empty shell of a woman that Oprah warns us about becoming. The reason that fashion magazines print their personality quizzes, and their articles on why bad men dump great women... That little voice inside many sexy vixens' heads, prompting them to never let their guard down...

In my attempt to sidestep those manly traits that leave women furious and annoyed, I accidentally abandoned a whole slew of positive attributes that I took years to refine and hone – traits that landed me so many of the wonderful relationships I've had in my life. (The old adage of "Throwing the baby out with the bath water." I always wondered what douchebag came up with that saying. Apparently, that d-bag was just like me.)

I was so afraid of not being lovable in this first relationship out of the gate (of trans-hood ~ not to be confused with Transylvania...) that I reappropriated my old codependent ways, and tried to *only* be what this woman wanted. This is what I mean when I say "That Girl!" The woman who wreaks of clingy desperation, molding herself again and again, shaping shifting into each new dimension she assumingly thinks her partner wants. Holy smack! That's totally me! Ugh~ I want a cocktail! When did I become a character on Sex and the City?

This woman I dated was pretty great. She's gregarious, super funny, really charming, a colorful story teller, really ambitious and driven professionally, an adventurous world traveler, really sexy with impeccable style and the most incredible shoes I've ever seen. I've kind of adored her since we first met nearly four years ago. But what I wasn't expecting was for me to completely lose myself in order to satiate her prospective wants and desires. Bummer.

It's not like she outwardly complained about this or that in me. It was more that she would retreat, or withdraw, and tell me that she couldn't be with me. I found myself trying to go through the motions of being the perfect boyfriend: of being an active listener, asking a number of compelling questions when she'd tell me about her day, give amazingly thoughtful gifts, try to be really charismatic around her family and friends... The whole nine. But I tried so intently to be what she wanted, I think somewhere in there I forgot what I wanted to be for my own sake. I forgot who I was intrinsically, and organically. And it was there, in that place, that the anxiety took over, and filled in all of the gaps where my own ambition and playful curiosity used to reside. I wan an empty shell, the veneer of the perfect vapid boyfriend. So sad.

She's a great individual, but maybe not the most attentive of partners. I think she is better at answering the thoughtful questions, rather than asking them. She is used to be the belle of the ball, as opposed to the host, or the plus one. And perhaps she is more accustomed to leaving when her needs aren't being met, rather than asking for what she needs, and trying to negotiate from that point onwards. None of these things are horrible, or make her an awful person. But I did want there to be more balance in our relationship, for things to *feel* more equal between the two of us.

It was tough because I really do adore her, and see so many attractive qualities in her, so many things that inspire me on a daily basis. But even though she's a great individual, it doesn't necessarily translate into being the perfect girlfriend. She wasn't bad, or mean, but there was just a disconnect between us. The two of us being so far opposed on opposite ends of the spectrum: she had a really strong sense of self and autonomy, but a resistance to "blending" in a relationship. And my impassioned readiness to be a thoughtful, intuitive partner, but sacrificing my own newly emerging sense of self post transition out of fear that being trans will nix me from prospective partners' lists. Objectively it was either a train wreck waiting to happen, or the most incredible opportunity for the two of us to learn that balance while in this dynamic. (Having read a few too many self help books myself, I was eager to give it a'go, and try to find some semblance of balance from working these outer poles inward. ((Not to be confused with Pollacks, or pole dancers...)))

But I can't make someone love me, or want to try to find balance in a way that might seem counter intuitive to them. What the hell do I know??? So, instead, I have to let it go, and continue to find myself, and truly get myself grounded again. I am ready for the undertaking, and the over-coming parts.

I think I needed our break up to wake up. But now that I'm awake, it'd sure be nice to feel like it doesn't have to be one or the other... And I am bummed that my attempts to try to explain some of this to her, and how I lost myself accidentally in our dynamic possibly came out in a way that made her feel like she needed to defend herself spontaneously. How do we tell those of whom we love about those little things they do that pinch us unintentionally, as we try to move forward together, whole heartedly from a place of compassion and sympathy?

In the past she accused me of always having to process everything, always wanting to talk everything out, like a broken record. Honestly no: I wanted to have the conversation *once* about something that hurt my feelings, and then ideally have it change, so it would never come up again. But when the same hurtful things kept happening over and over after I tried to address it in the least accusatory, provocative way possible – yes, I might have tried to bring it up again to try another approach to prevent future missteps. Isn't that how it works?

I'm wrestling with the ego-bruisers of idealizing a pretty great woman, and wanting to someone so great to want to be with me out of principle. She recently told a friend in common that she couldn't be with me because I am not ambitious enough. Secretly, I had succumb to my defenses when I heard that statement. Having spent the past several years overhauling my entire life so that I could live more genuinely in this trans identity that I had denied for decades ~ it feels like I was pretty fucking ambitious to radically change every single element within my identity, family dynamics, social circles – the whole gamut.

So, if one only equates personal success with professional aims, then yes, maybe right now I have been coasting to have one pleasantly consistent thread in my life while undergoing so many other changes. Not to mention how impulsive it would be to change careers in this rough economy, and the fact that I really love my job, and the riches it grants me, like being able to write for 2-4 hours everyday while getting paid my generous salary.

When I equate ambition with the holistic approach of the entirety of one's life, their contentment, and self-development, I am right on target. And I don't get bogged down in having to explain myself to anyone else. From that place, I also don't quiver when contemplating whether or not the hott girl likes me back. I return to the mantra that got me through my transition in the first place:

It's not about who may abandon me because I am trans, but rather, who is amazing enough to be invited in to this incredibly intimate process and rich life of mine.

I'm not saying this ex is no longer invited, but I do see that once I return to myself, return to my own rooted foundation, her interpretations of me matter less and less. I can find compassion for us both in those places, but exert my own time and energy to continuing to do my heart-full work in self-awareness and self-development, rather than trying to convince anyone else of anything.

It's time for me to simply trust that the right person will "get me," and that the right relationship will only encourage me to feel confident in myself, and foster a dynamic that helps us both grow as individuals while we simultaneously become more intimately connected.

I can let go of being "that girl," and just get back to being myself, free from that desperation and anxiety, and full of ambition to make this life as rich as possible. But I do hope someday to find "a girl" to go with me being "this trans-guy." Sigh~