Please read with an open mind. This is about changing relationship models, and ever changing relationships within those new models.

As in my coming out messages to everyone – I’m just going to rip that bandaid off. Teresa and I opened our marriage in April, 2015, and became polyamorous (or poly for short).

For most of you, that term won’t have any real meaning yet. So, allow me a definition.

Polyamory: Polyamory (from Greek πολύ poly, “many, several”, and Latin amor, “love“) is the practice, desire, or acceptance of intimate relationships that are not exclusive with respect to other sexual or intimate relationships, with knowledge and consent of everyone involved. It has been described as “consensual, ethical, and responsible non-monogamy“,[2] and may or may not include polysexuality (attraction towards multiple genders or sexes). 

There are other definitions, but this one, from Wikipedia, will suffice for now. It should be very much emphasized that this is not polygamy. A practice largely associated with Mormon church, and almost always misogynistic.

Part of our move away from monogamy was precipitated by my change in sexual orientation. Part of it was from marriage troubles that have been ongoing. Part of it was because we both fell in love with another person (the same person). Part of it was because of my transition. And there were probably a dozen other factors that influenced the decision.

At first, it was something that was joked about or talked about very lightly. Things like, “Now that you like guys, I suppose you’ll want a boyfriend.” Or, “I’d really like to just have that guy experience once in my life.” Or, “It’s just puberty, you want everything that moves.” Or even Teresa saying from the very beginning of our relationship, that if I ever wanted to be with someone else, I just had to be up front about it.

It became more than a joke one night in April. We had mutually fallen for a particular friend, that we wound up having over for a long weekend. She was supposed to stay in the spare bedroom. We cleaned it, put all sorts of comfy, fluffy pillows out, but it never got used. She wound up sleeping with us instead.

And life was grand. Everyone was in love with everyone else. We had no idea how to ‘poly’ properly. We were flying by the seat of our pants, and it turns out, doing so many things wrong.

This triad (as we called it) didn’t last long, as the feelings weren’t all mutual. Yes, we all loved each other, but it wasn’t the same kind of love all around. I was the odd one out. She did not have that romantic spark for me. I had a bad reaction to this, but that’s another story. Eventually things got kind of smoothed out as 2 couples: Teresa and I, and Teresa and her girlfriend.

I discovered a couple things during this time. 1, I don’t really have jealousy issues in the classical sense. 2, I don’t do well when I’m alone, most times.

I had no problem seeing Teresa with her girlfriend. Had no problem being the third wheel at times (I was used to this from other friends). But, when left alone, I was suffering pretty bad depression. In hindsight, a lot of my issues were very likely hormone related – either caused by, or accentuated by. My estrogen levels were very low early on, combined with very very low testosterone levels, combined with elevated progesterone levels. That’s not a good mix, for anyone.

We made a lot of mistakes with this set up. We had no knowledge of what we were doing, thinking that we’d just figure out as we went, and it would work because: love. But that didn’t work out. We had not set up any boundaries, any rules, and especially did not have the required levels of communication that are essential to poly working. (of note, communication is JUST as essential for monogamy to work well).

Eventually Teresa and her girlfriend ended with hurt all around. None of us were in good head spaces for this. Depression, envy, neglect, more depression. It kind of imploded. Out of it, we kind of stayed friends, more or less. As time went on, my friendship with her strengthened. Teresa’s faltered for a bit, but is still there.

On the day that Teresa’s relationship ended, I wound up with my girlfriend.

Getting a girlfriend wasn’t supposed to happen. I was trying to find a boyfriend, at the behest of Teresa and her partner, I had an online dating profile and everything. The search wasn’t (and still isn’t) going that well, but that’s, yet again, another story.

Our version of polyamory is working for us. We communicate extremely well now and openly about our needs, wants, and desires. We work very hard to respect everyone involved (and seem to be very good at that now – I had some hiccups early on. Sorry Teresa.)

Teresa and I are working at rebuilding what we had. It’s tough. I think currently I’m the biggest problem with that. Or rather my feelings are the biggest problem. I’ve been experiencing something I’m calling ‘relationship induced dysphoria’. When we get too close, it starts to come up. All my memories are of trying to be a man with/for her. When we would get close, more and more often, these memories would come to the surface and make me feel incredibly dysphoric. To the point where I would push Teresa away and say, ‘no.’

Then Teresa would feel rejected, because that’s of course what it was. Not because of her, but how I felt, yet it was still rejection. Then she’d get depressed. Eventually we decided to become non-sexual to stop the hurt all around. For my part, this has helped immensely. I no longer feel pressured, or have this dysphoria, and I can slowly let my mind rework itself.

The other issue we have is miscommunication. We do both try very hard to communicate. There is often a disconnect between us though. This is something we are both working on. I’ve been working on not saying anything while I’m reacting to what’s been said. Teresa is working on not taking my reaction as a part of the conversation. Making sure we understand what the other meant is another part of it. Sometimes we think we’re saying one thing, but that’s not how it’s being received.

Having other people in our lives, is allowing us the space to work on ourselves and rebuild. We don’t feel resentment towards each other for the things we aren’t able to provide.

Many of you will ask why I felt the need to post such information about our private lives.

The simple answer for me is, I develop feelings of shame and guilt very quickly from having to hide aspects of my life. It’s a carry over from years of self denial and the shame and guilt I felt from being myself, and not being able to be out. I *am* proud of who I am. It was still a hard decision because other people are implicated. Especially Teresa, but also our partners are at a slightly increased risk of being outed.

From the beginning, over 10 years ago, I told Jessica that if she ever wanted to be with someone else, that I was okay with it, as long as she was open and honest about it (no cheating). So it was actually my idea to open the marriage and not for the reasons a lot of people think.

Back then, when I had no idea what being open or poly meant, I just never wanted to have to go through the pain of being cheated on. Not that I thought she ever would, but just in case, I’d throw that disclaimer in the ring every once in a while.

Also, now with her transition, it wasn’t because I needed to replace my husband and had to have a guy in my life. Though I am very happy that I have one in my life. He makes me very happy and not because he’s a guy, but because he loves and respects me for me.

After Jessica started her transition, and we decided to open our marriage, it was originally because I didn’t feel it was fair of me to ask Jessica to remain in the confines of a monogamous marriage because of a vow or promise she made on our wedding day that happened before she realized who she truly was.

As time has passed, I’ve realized I was also doing it, in the beginning, to save our marriage. (note: This is not a good or healthy reason to open your marriage. It only makes things more complicated and the marriage harder to work on if at all.) My reason for being poly no longer has anything to do with saving my marriage or letting Jessica be free to explore herself.

Being poly has opened my eyes to self love, discovery, and growth. It’s made me realize I can’t be all things to each partner but I can be the real me and bring what I have to offer to the table and accepting that that is enough. It means being happy when my parter(s) are giving and receiving the love that they need with their partner(s). It’s accepting that there are all kinds of love and we don’t have to settle for just one kind. It’s about learning to be secure within myself to be myself and attract those to me that want that, respect that, and honour that.

– Teresa Reimer

Me myself and my hair (and a headscarf)

I think it was fitting that today was the day this happened. I’ve been growing my hair since January. To finally go out with nothing artificial, and feel I’m presenting the way I really want to, is a very fulfilling thing.

Exactly one year ago today, I accepted that I was in fact Jessica. The day of December 8th, 2014 will forever be ingrained in my memory. More important than any other date. I accepted that she was not a small part of me, that I indulged every now and then. I accepted that I had buried her deep inside, and hurt her prolifically. I accepted that I needed to change. I accepted that I needed to be true to myself.

I threw away all my fears and doubts that I had been clinging to. Fears and doubts that had allowed me to deny who I really am. Losing those fears allowed me to finally open myself up. Discover who I really am – a process I’m still working on.

It has been quite the year for me. It went by so fast, and yet certain things seemed (and still do seem) to take forever. I’m essentially at a point, where I am fully me. Yes, there are some physical things to fix yet in the next year, but for all intents and purposes, I feel realized.

Life feels natural to me now. A feeling I never knew about until recently. Before transition, I was always making sure no one saw any outward sign of Jessica, not a natural way to live. Constantly guarded against slipping up, saying the wrong thing, like ‘Oooh, that’s pretty!’ Then in the early part of transition, it was better, but I was still worrying about how I was presenting, just in a different way. Yes, most of the time I had confidence, but it wasn’t the same as now.

Now there really is no effort in being me, I just am. I’m comfortable in my skin. I have bad days, I get misgendered. But the bad doesn’t last as long. The misgendering bothers me a bit, and then it goes away. I see myself as a fairly attractive woman. I’ve kind of accepted that I will get called sir occasionally. I just can’t see why. Maybe I’m deluding myself, but I’d rather delude myself this way, than the way I’d done it for 34+ years.

I am so thankful for all my friends and family that have supported me through this process. It is a very remarkable thing how many of you are there for me. Also remarkable is how many have joined after I started this journey. When I came out I had about 187 people on my friend list on FaceBook. I lost 2 acquaintances in the process. I now have 256 friends with only a few of those being very peripheral acquaintances.

I had zero connection to anyone in the trans community when I started this journey, and I really appreciate the friends that I now have, that share this road. To have people that I can talk to, that really understand what the hell I’m talking about it, is invaluable. And probably helped me from going completely insane, as well. You are some of my closest friends now.

In this last year I have changed a lot. Some of the changes are from throwing away my fears and doubts. Some are from hormones. Some are from life experiences. Some are from new people in my life. Some are from people that have always been there. I am no longer the shy quiet person hiding in the corner. I still lack certain social skills that I didn’t learn growing up, but I’m getting better. I’m predominately extroverted, not an introvert like I had thought my entire life. I thrive on being around people and being social.

I have learned a lot about my likes and dislikes, and how wrong and skewed they were before starting transition. Most of my likes and dislikes were based on my filters and how I thought I needed to present myself to pass as a guy. With those gone, my world opened up.

My life has complexities in it now that I never imagined even a year ago. I wind up saying this a lot, but, life really is interesting now. I’m constantly looking for new experiences, and I keep finding them. I’m not sure I’ll ever run out – and I don’t want to.

Thanks to everyone in my life, everyone that reads this blog, and everyone in the LGBTQQIP2SAA (look it up if you want to know). I love you all.

– Jessica Jaclyn Hanna Reimer

I get told, often, how courageous I am. I get it. How it comes across that way. Certain things I do, I agree, are courageous. I put myself out there, every time I write one of these blog posts. I disseminate everything, and withhold nothing. I’m a complete open book. I’m proud to be out, proud to be trans, and proud to be me. I’ll accept that as being labelled courageous.

Transitioning, though, is not done from courage for me. When I realized who I am, I had to make a choice. I’ve been corrected by someone very close to me, that this was indeed a choice I made. It was a very easy choice, but still… The choice was to transition, or slowly degrade into self destruction and probably suicide.

Before I allowed myself to see who I am, there was a wall of denial.  That wall had been slowly crumbling since its creation. A huge crack formed when I was 23, and led to my attempt on my own life. I couldn’t deal with the fear of what I saw behind that wall. I plastered that crack up, and continued on. Turning a blind eye to what I should have been seeing. Me.

Frustration leads pretty much every major life decision I make. There have been exceptions to that, every last one of the exceptions is driven by love. But I’m talking about frustration right now. Frustration is the main reason of my self harm, the main reason I came out, the main reason I sought counselling, and the main driving force behind my transition.

It is not transformed into courageousness. It is pure and primal. I broke down and obliterated that wall of denial because I couldn’t take it anymore. There would be no rebuilding it, it was dust. So, it was like the crack that formed when I was 23, but bigger. I was flooded with all my true feelings and thoughts. Transition is a lifeline to make it through those feelings and thoughts.

I have a strong desire to live, be happy, and love myself for once. So, the path of self destruction and loss was not a very appealing choice. Besides, with me living authentically, my love for others has expanded, and become truer.

Frustration with how I fooled, lied, and denied myself, is a driving force that pretty much has me ignoring what society thinks of me (positive or negative). I see now, it is where my confidence is coming from. I HAVE to do this, or I simply won’t be.

I don’t get mad when people tell me. I stopped trying to argue about it, even. And it takes a lot for me to stop arguing.

It is not courage.

It is survival.

And I will survive.

– Jess.

When I first came out to that one lone person at age 26, I was so absolutely terrified of being judged, and being rejected. Then thoughts of her outing me across the online game we were playing went through my head, and the hundreds of judgements and condemnations that would come from that escalated my nervousness.

There was none of that. There was her offering me a few skirts, a dress, and a nightie a few days later in her Volkswagen Beetle.

Then I came out to my closest female friend when I needed another confidant. Again, dreading the negative response, and nope, not gonna happen. Then I expanded my coterie to about a dozen people. All were still my friends, still loved me, and totally accepted my female side as it was presented back then. All those same people have re-accepted me as Jess.

Fast forward a few years, and the cross dressing has morphed into ‘confused transgender’ and I start my coming out process.

In deciding to completely out myself, I go over pretty much every possible outcome from every person I tell. I prepare in my mind for the necessity of possibly changing jobs or careers. I prepare for family rejection. I prepare for friend rejection. And I prepare for in-law family rejection.

I steady my will, and charge ahead revealing what I knew currently of myself to everyone I can possibly tell. In doing that, I missed a few people. One of those that I missed turned into a problem. Not necessarily because I missed telling them about the new me, but because they weren’t okay with the new me. They were fine with ‘Jessica’ as long as she was a private ‘thing’ not shared with the world.

I’ve tried explaining how this is me, not something I’m doing, it’s who I am. With little to no effect. They still seem to view this as a choice I’m making. And I’m being selfish for making the choice. I’m being selfish because now people will know about me, and this person will be judged for being associated with me. They don’t care whether I’ll be judged. But I’m the selfish one.

This negativity is really affecting Teresa way more than it is affecting me. I was prepared for it, she wasn’t. There are some other issues at play as well, this isn’t all about me, but a lot is. As a result, I feel responsible for it. That’s the part that affects me. That I can’t protect Teresa from this negativity, hurts.

Teresa wrote this on the Facebook Transgender Alliance page today:

Feeling very alone. My spouse has a lot of support since she came out trans but as her spouse I’m feeling lost in her shadow. She has lots of people she can relate too but I don’t know who to look to for help coping with being the so-called super supportive brave partner. I don’t feel brave, I feel terrified and unsure of everything other than my unconditional love for her.

Spouses often get lost on the chaos. Even when the relationship is strong. The recent negativity is affecting her a lot. I already had many family and friends and her to rely on for anything coming my way, but she doesn’t have that same support system for what she’s dealing with. She gets told almost daily, “I don’t know how you do it. I couldn’t.” I do my best, but she needs people in her same situation to talk with. They’re hard to find. But we’re working on it.

As for my one friend, I haven’t had a reply in over 20 days from my last email. My attempt at not pressing the issue. I’m leaving the ball in his court so to speak. I haven’t written it off, but if I have to, I have to. My pluses outweigh all my minuses greatly.

– Jess

I came out to everyone as a ‘transgender’ individual in a process I started September 9, 2014. That process ended (if it can ever truly end) with me telling our doctor December 18, 2014. Of course there are some people that don’t know yet, but we’ll deal with them when the time is right.

During the coming out process, I finally came to realize and accept who I am. Which kind of re-initiated a new coming out, since instead of being a confused transgender person, I was now finally accepting that I am a transgender woman. It was an amazing feeling losing that confusion, yet, it brought up fears again, because now I had to tell people I was going to transition. I was going to live life in my authentic gender.

I’ve been asked if it was hard to make that decision, to transition. Just like in a book I read, it really isn’t a decision. I didn’t understand that, when I read it in the book, but I do now. The decision that I made was to accept myself. Transitioning comes out of that. It wasn’t like I said, Okay, so you’re a woman, do you want to transition now? It was, Okay, you’re a woman, you need to tell everyone you’re transitioning.

The hardest person to tell was my wife, Teresa. I don’t think I will ever forget telling her. I had talked to a friend first, and told her about my epiphany, and together we decided it was something I needed to tell Teresa right away, instead of keeping it from her. I say this, because Teresa had requested I not add to her stress levels by unloading my stuff on top of her. Which was totally understandable, she needed to deal with what she was already going through, and not my stuff as well. Especially since most of my stuff was coming from a ‘gaining’ place, and her’s from a ‘losing’ place.

Anyway, I got home and found her upstairs in the office. I kissed her, and got down on my knees and wrapped my arms around her. ‘There’s something I need to tell you,’ I said, trying hard not to start crying right away. ‘You know that thing you were most afraid of, other than me dying?’ ‘You’re going to transition?’ she said/asked. ‘Yes,’ I said softly. And then, as we both starting weeping, I told her about my moment of clarity, and how I just ‘knew’ myself now.

I had planned a week of being ‘Jessica’ 24/7 during my two weeks off of work. This was when I was still confused, and thought it might help me figure myself out. It has turned into simply me being me for almost the entire 2 weeks. I had a few concerns going into it, mostly all physical. Previously, I have always had problems with shaving my face. I usually shaved once a week (hence Teresa’s love of my scruffy face), because shaving more than that irritated my skin. Now, here I was planning on shaving every day, and as close as a I possibly could. To my surprise, it has not been an issue. I’m going through moisturizer like crazy, but it’s been pretty good. I’ve also got body hair to worry about, but have been wearing pants and long sleeve shirts to cover the stubble from shaving (trying to grow it out long enough so Teresa can wax me – something she enjoys doing).

During this period of finally being able to just exist without any pretences has been simply wonderful. I’ve been able to meet all my family members as Jessica, or Jess. I’ve gone shopping alone and with Mom and with Teresa, gone out to dinner, picked up groceries, been to our Chiropractor, gone for coffee with a friend not seen in 15ish years, and just everyday stuff.

I’ve gotten comfortable not wearing ultra feminine clothing, even wearing guys shirts out a couple times. That’s not to say I don’t like dresses and skirts anymore. I still really do, but I also want to be comfortable. I used to equate comfort with being ultra feminine. Obviously it was an over compensation for something I’d been denying myself for a lifetime.

Things are changing. I’ve already noticed several changes in myself since starting the process of transition. I’m not 100% sure what has triggered this, but most of it has to just be a mental change in how I think of and perceive myself. The biggest change is not being shy and introverted anymore. The smaller changes are things like eating habits – I’ve now eaten mushrooms (on purpose) cooked and raw, eaten raw fish, cranberry sauce, and black olives. The thought process behind that started like this: I was at work, didn’t have a lunch, and was really wanting something warm. We were by a Tim Hortons so I thought I’d really like some chilli, but their’s has mushrooms in it. And I hate mushrooms. My mind just said, get the chilli, eat the mushrooms, screw it. That was it. And that’s pretty much been my attitude towards foods I never liked before.

Other changes have just been in self acceptance. I used to worry about being 6’5″. There is absolutely nothing I can do about being tall. So, somehow, I just shrugged it off. I just incorporated it into my self image, in a good way. My feet were also an issue, but the foot wear I’ve purchased recently looks really good on me, so again, a non-issue. I can actually look at myself in the mirror and see an attractive woman. I may still have problems believing other people see her the same way, but it’s nice to have that now.

It is now 2015. I have never started a year off (to my memory) with this much happiness, hope for the future, sense of well being, love of everything and everyone.

I should have a doctor’s appointment very soon to go over all this with her, and hopefully come out with a couple prescriptions. Worst case scenario is that I might have to wait a bit to start hormones. I have 4 more laser hair removal sessions to go for my face and neck, which will probably take me into June. Then I hope to start electrolysis to get rid of what’s left on the face.

Work will be difficult for me, back to the male role visually, but I’ll still have the nail polish to remind me of me. Work will the be the final frontier for my transition. I work in landscaping, and it can be a sweaty, dirty, hot, cold, and wet physical job. I want my body to be my own when I start living full time as a woman, no more prosthetics. I would love to have my own hair, but unfortunately testosterone has pretty much ruined that. So, I’m thinking of alternatives to wigs (too hot) and might go with a bandana or something like that.

At some point in this new year, I will begin to work more on my voice. I’ve tried a bit already, but it takes lots and lots of practice. Hopefully if I can’t do it on my own, we can find a speech therapist that isn’t too expensive.

When I’m ready to start living my life full time, is when I will get all my documents changed. Just thinking about it now, it’s quite daunting. There’s a huge list of cards to change, provincial documents, passport, etc… The first one to get done though is the birth certificate. Once that’s done, every other one is a bit easier. I’m so glad I live in British Columbia, Canada.

Have a great year everyone!

Lots of love,
Jess

Then one friend off handedly said, “you know, you don’t have to tell everyone.” My protector side instantly bonded with that sentiment. He’s right. Why risk ruining a good thing. You’ve got maybe 20 people that know now, that’s enough. You’re happier right?

I still kind of regret not going all the way with it back then. It’s not a full regret, because society has changed a lot in the last 13 years for the better for the trans community.

Anyway, jump ahead 13 years, and a ton of frustration had built up. Jessica was not getting what she needed. She (I) wanted to be accepted as a woman. I wanted to relate to people as a woman, and be related to in that way. I wanted to express myself to the world. But all I had was 20 friends and family. And at most, I’d only ever had a chance to be around a dozen people as Jessica. Don’t get me wrong, that was great for me, but such a rare occurrence.

Listening to that book by George Carlin made me resolve to be truer to myself. I’m still making steps in being true to myself, but I am making those steps. Anyway, I decided to give the coming out thing another go.

I started with my Dad. It wasn’t an overly long email (to date, I’ve only ever told people by email or via Facebook messages). I did change something from the last time I tried coming out. I started to use the word ‘transgender’. Previously, I was just telling people I was a cross dresser. I just had a large feminine side, and needed to express it on occasion. What a wonderful lie that was. So close to the truth, but far enough from reality that I felt safe. I totally believed this lie for the longest time.

Changing words went along with a slight change in my view of self. I started to see myself as having a dual nature. That instead of a feminine side to my male gender, I was female sometimes in my mind, and male at other times. I think at this point, my protector was grasping for anything that would rationally fit to keep my world together the way it was.

So, Dad took the news well enough, and I moved on to other family members that did not know about Jessica. Siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins and beyond were told. All the reactions were accepting and some were supportive as well. Next up was the wife’s family. This was a bit more daunting. These people did not know me as well, and had mostly to trust that Teresa had chosen well for herself. Their reactions as well were very accepting and reassuring.

Next I tackled my friends list on Facebook. High school friends and acquaintances. I started sending about 15 or so messages at a time. Then something odd happened. One of the friends had started to ask other friends whether they had gotten any strange messages lately. There was concern that my account may have been hacked. This reaction still intrigues me. I guess it makes sense when you think about the fact that the friend in question is a police officer. It’s still a better reaction than rejection. It’s a reaction of concern.

After sorting out that I was, indeed, not hacked, the acceptance started to pour in. Some friends never responded to the message, but most did. Some made their acceptance known in other ways, by liking subsequent Facebook posts or similar. Not one removed themselves from my friends list, so I take that as positive. Even friends of a religious nature were accepting – praying for my happiness, not against me being a transgender individual, if praying came up at all.

Once the Facebook friends list was done, I was going to start working on co-workers. I HAD to tell everyone. I was so tired of being a secret, and the opposite of a secret is something that everyone knows. Once again, that same friend, that years ago stopped me in my tracks, made the same remark, “you don’t have to tell everyone.” But this time my reply was, “yes, in fact, I do.”

With co-workers done, and accepting – even to the point of asking if I needed anything or if they needed to do anything if I was transitioning. I scrounged the last of any contact information I had and made sure I had told everyone that I was able to. (there was an exception to this, but I’ll get to that in another entry).

I was finally done. I felt an IMMENSE sense of relief. I felt lighter, like a huge weight had been lifted off of me (in essence there was a huge mental weight holding me down). I was definitely on a happiness high. I still am to a large degree. I felt freed, liberated. I had finally broken down my defences and come out. Or so I thought.