The train trip itself down to California, was pretty cool. I was seated next to Karen. A lovely woman from Eugene, Oregon. She was originally from Denmark, so I actually had quite a bit to talk to her about, as I had spent many hours around Danes. I did not need my mp3 player until she got off the train many hours later. I even got a hug.

Also of note, I was not the only transwoman on the train. There was one other (that I saw) and she commented on my purple/burgundy outfit, so that was nice. It looked like she was with 3 or 4 other people, so I didn’t wind up talking to her at all.

Dinner was interesting, as I had decided to partake of the dining car reservation. When I got to the table, there was already a gentleman seated ahead of me. It was quickly apparent that he was not very social. We exchanged names, and destinations. After a bit I tried to initiate conversation again, and we had a very stilted conversation about Vancouver.

Thankfully, a couple (man and woman) got seated with us pretty quick. They were much more chatty. They were from Oregon as well, and it seems I tend to get along really well with people from there. Must be a forest/coastal/ocean thing. Conversation went from Canada/US differences, to local govt infrastructure idiocy. Dinner was really good, but portions were smallish, and VERY expensive.

I managed to get a little bit of sleep on the train, and the rest of the trip was mostly me watching Monty Python on my Sony Walkman.

I arrived in Sacramento about half an hour before I was supposed to. Luckily Melissa is like me, and likes to arrive places half an hour ahead of time, otherwise we feel late. So, she actually showed up about 5 minutes after I got outside the station (as I was trying to find wifi to send her a message).

My face must have lit up when I saw her, but it was very cold, and I was so tired, so we only managed a hug before getting into the warm car. It was at this point that I knew this was going to work. Without ever having been around her before, it all just felt so comfortable. I slid my hand across to her thigh, as we drove to get some breakfast.

The 13 days went by so fast, but I feel we got a lot out of them. We saw Star Wars Rogue One in IMAX 3D, saw Cirque Du Soleil: Luzia in San Fransisco, had ostrich burgers at Fudruckers, walked a bit around the San Fran waterfront, ate a lot of amazing home cooked meals (Melissa is a wonderful cook), gamed together, slept together, showered together, but more important than any of that, is we got to touch.

We are so completely compatible. We are so incomprehensibly similar, and yet any differences we have are perfectly synergistic. It’s like we were made for each other. Even after dating for a few months now, we both marvel at how good we are for each other.

I cried a lot on the last day. I didn’t want to leave. Maybe it was a good thing the train coming home was so horrendously late, and that I didn’t sleep well on it. I was over tired, and the tears seemed to stop. The last few nights have been tearful though. I figured this would happen after finally being with her. I’m prepared for it, and I’ll continue to cry, because it’s how I deal with it. I have amazing friends that will distract me from missing her as much as I do. And of course, we talk every day.

Neither of us knows what our future is. Nothing can be figured out until we’ve both had our surgeries. Until then, since we both identify as non-monogamous, we’ll try and find other partners that are close for now, probably just casual things. That being said, we will be together sooner than later. Where? Who knows at this point. I’m willing to move to her. She’s willing to move to me. Whichever makes more sense when the time comes.

I have known Melissa for quite a few years. We were introduced to each other in an online game (World of Warcraft). At the time, we were both still trying to pass as guys. We wound up in the same guild, and spent many weekends raiding together. I developed an actual affinity for this person, and was genuinely sad when she missed a weekend, or I had to miss a weekend.

A brief description of what ‘raiding’ is. For us, it was a mostly disorganized attempt to kill boss monsters as a group of 10 players who all got along more or less and didn’t yell at each other as we died many times. Somehow, this was fun for us. We were WAY more successful than we had any right to be. *lol*

Melissa played a character named Gnomerology – a gnome (duh) mage. I played a an elf (again duh) priest. Most of the time we were both filling damage inflicting roles. Meaning we went pew pew pew a lot.

When raiding, some semblance of communication is required, so we all used a program called Ventrillo which allowed us to speak to each other with headsets. This is where a lot of the camaraderie developed between all of us. Speaking allows you to convey more information, and at a faster speed, than typing. So you wind up getting to know people a lot better.

Gnomer and I developed a rather healthy competition each week to see who could do more damage throughout the raid, and thus claim that it was her or I (or Sunilt – rarely *lol*) that made the day successful. (as opposed to the healers or the tanks)

When she quit playing, about a year before I did, I actually missed her. And we lost contact with each other.

Fast forward a few years, and I had our Guild Mother on my friend list on Facebook, and she happened to still be in touch with Melissa. This is when I get a fairly random message from her…

“Pssst! Remember Gnomerologyyyyyyyyyy?
“Xxxxxxxx” has become Melissa, and is just starting her own journey. I was just wishing her well, as she had posted new pics and her announcement.”

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

I can’t recall ever actually being happy about the way I looked as James. Thinking about it in a new perspective, I can see my gender dysphoria having a lot to do with that, if not even it being the root cause. Every time someone called me ‘handsome’ I would instantly discredit the compliment internally. I never wanted to be handsome anyway, I wanted to be cute.

My first girlfriend was at age 26. I had a lot of crushes from grade 6 until then. I spent an entire year going to the local mall as many nights as I could to hang out and talk to a particular girl that worked in a clothing store there. Even taking her lunch break with her. I never got the nerve to even ask her out. This was pretty much normal for me.

There was even one time where a girl asked me out via a note, and she was even a redhead (I’m partial to redheads) and I couldn’t call her. I was so socially awkward in that respect. I could have girls as friends – I was just unable to move beyond that. I had a hard time even thinking of what a relationship would look like, since I liked wearing girls’ clothes. Surely, I couldn’t tell them, so I’d have to hide the clothes, and then be extra sure not to say anything that would give me away.

I remember trying to compliment a girl in high school about some clothing she was wearing. I got the oddest looks from her and her friend. That immediately stopped that. It’s not that they laughed at me, but there was no real acceptance of the compliment either. It was just very very awkward.

The first girlfriend came about because she worked with a close friend, and we (all parties) wound up at this friend’s parents house for a bit and chatted briefly. Later I was told she thought I was cute. That was the key word. I wonder, now, if I would have gone through with dating her if she had said I was handsome.

No one knew I was inept and VERY inexperienced at relationships. I did tell her on our first date, that I hadn’t had any girlfriends before. She was from a religious upbringing, and was a virgin (as well) and hadn’t had many boyfriends, so it was almost an even playing field. We dated for about 3 months, and it ended poorly. Not with acrimony or anything like that, but it seemed like things were going really well – it was almost love at first sight for me. But, I think things were going too fast for her (most of you will laugh at that I think – 3 months no sex doesn’t sound very fast compared to other relationships I’ve had since this one).

She broke up with me. She had the decency to do it in person. She told me that she had had a dream the other night, and in this dream, we were getting married. At the altar she wound up running away from the wedding, and then the dream shifted. Next she was on a swing, swinging higher and higher, until she fell off and woke up as she hit the ground. This dream, I was told, was pretty much her reason for breaking up with me.

I was a mess for 2 weeks. Never having had this kind of rejection before, I was so ill prepared for it. I kept to myself while at home, worrying my roommates greatly. At work I was there but not there. My one co-worker even joked, “What’s wrong? Girlfriend break up with you?” Me, “Yep.” Him, “Oh. Sorry.”

During the 3 months of dating her, I was constantly worried about being found out. Worried that she’d see something at my place, or I’d say something wrong. I tried to figure out how to tell her, but the idea seemed pretty much preposterous. I had the feeling during the entire relationship that I wasn’t giving her all of me. This was the catalyst for me to need to tell someone.

As a crossdresser (which is how I was identifying back then) I went through what most do: purges. This is where the shame and guilt of what we’re doing builds up so much that we throw out all of our female attire and swear off dressing up ever again. I believe I did this 4 times. It’s a behaviour that I think was also involved when I got rid of my stuffed animals. It’s an effort to be what we’re not. And if my last month has proven anything, it’s that this is the stupidest thing transgender people do. (The smartest thing being accepting who we are whole heartedly)

A purge would basically involve me rounding up everything I had – pantyhose, panties, bras, blouses, skirts, dresses – putting them in garbage bags, and throwing them in the trash. A complete removal of everything. No tempting things left behind. I think the longest I went without rebuilding my collection was about a week. It’s stupid on so many levels. It’s expensive, mentally and emotionally damaging, and you always wind up letting yourself down at the end.

There was just no way to deal with that shame and guilt. It felt so good to wear the clothes, and then after you’d think about how ‘wrong’ it was to get enjoyment from that. And you’d dwell on that. Every single time. There was never once where I didn’t feel that. It’s very hard to think of yourself in a good light when you are stuck in this vicious cycle. And on top of that, having no one to talk to about it. Thinking you’re the only one that is this way (only to find out later that practically every transgender person of my generation went through the same exact thing). Then, finding shows like Donahue, and Sally, and Jerry – only to see transgender people portrayed as fetishists, or perverts, or mentally ill.

Even now, there is so little positive transgender message in mass media. There is some, and it is getting better, but there are still portrayals of transgender people being criminals in shows like CSI (which has shown transgender people in good light too).

I wound up being a virgin until I was 29. At 29 I was dating a woman who was very much into me, and I was only somewhat into her. I basically surrendered my virginity to avoid being a 30 year old virgin. Up until this point, this wasn’t something a lot of people knew about me. I never lied about it, but I would always be very vague. I don’t care to hide things anymore, or be vague. It’s not helpful.

I actually think that my losing my virginity at that point was detrimental to my self esteem. It was probably very close to date rape. It was our second date, and she had tried on the first date. Funny how I don’t even equate her wanting to have sex with me that badly as a self esteem boost. This is not a relationship that I did well in. It’s the one where I tuned out and essentially made her break up with me. So, the whole thing kind of makes me feel worse about myself.

Skip ahead to now and things are very different. It’s probably apparent to some of you or most of you, but my self esteem is miles ahead of where it was. Even if I’m not the most feminine looking woman facially (and that may [hopefully] change with hormones) I can look in the mirror and see a cute woman. I can walk with my head held high and look people in the eye when I’m out now. Before I allowed myself to be authentic, if I went out dressed as a woman, I was always looking down, trying to draw the least attention to myself. Now, I value that attention.

Yes, I get ‘read’ often, but probably not even as often as I think I do. I blend in, but I don’t do it by retreating. I do it by being confident in myself. I don’t purposefully do any specific feminine mannerisms, I let it all come out naturally. There’s a spring in my step when I walk, I smile for no reason. The rigidity of masculinity is gone, I’m way more fluid. I don’t care that I’m 6’5″, or that my hands are big, or that my feet are large. Instead, I am proud that I’m tall, and can be seen from across a crowded room. My fingers are long and slender, so while not the prettiest, they aren’t grossly masculine hands. My feet are also not that wide, and I have found wonderful boots and shoes that look good and proportional on me (as long as people don’t see my feet without socks or stockings, I’m fine lol).

There are steps to go yet in my transition that will aid my self esteem even more. And I am very much looking forward to them.

– Jess

Addendum (January 11, 2015):

Teresa pointed out that I skipped over our marriage. It wasn’t a conscious decision. I definitely had issues of poor self esteem over the last 10 years. My infertility being the biggest blow. At that time I was still identifying as a male, and it’s a pretty big hit to your view of self when you fail at being a male. That was how I viewed my infertility; a failure. Obviously it was nothing I had done, but it was part of me nonetheless.

Another thing I had issues with was loss of hair due to testosterone and DHT. It was a gradual loss, but I never realized how much it was affecting me until much later. Luckily Teresa managed to convince me to shave my head early on into our marriage. It made it bearable, but I’ve never been able to take ownership of my hair loss. It affects me to this day. I can make jokes about it, but I prefer to hide it beneath wigs, or bandanas, or hats, or even a wig cap. As long as I can’t see my scalp, it doesn’t bother me (as much).