Note: Sorry this took so long

When I was asked to move to Grand Rapids it seemed like the logical choice.   I have always seen patterns where no one would think to look. I had been in the Army for 8 years, I had worked for National Semiconductor for 8 years and had worked here for 8 years. The pattern was not acceptable to me.  The other thing it was that the move was back to Michigan.  I was born in Michigan. My Family lived in Michigan. My in-laws lived in Michigan. Michigan had always been home. In the last 24 years I had lived in Asia, Europe, Arizona, Colorado, New Jersey, Kentucky, and Ohio but Michigan was home. When I discussed moving with my wife she adamantly refused to move.  We were offered a complete relocation package but still she refused. We discussed the prospect of me being unemployed, the prospect of living apart, and of every other considerable option – one of which involved me moving until the last two children graduated high school, then having her join me in Michigan. The marriage was not on firm ground for a myriad of reasons, some of which has been discussed previously. In reality, this was not her fault. What she had expected was a person who was male and comfortable being a male and I did not fit that role. I could think of a number of reasons why I could blame the dissolution of the marriage on her but the reality is, it was me. I was never comfortable being the macho macho man. I had always wanted to look pretty, to be more feminine, and to live in reality as a woman.

One of the mental dilemmas that I had was the fear that in becoming a woman I would lose my children, my family, and my brothers and sisters.  This was not acceptable to me, so I delayed it as  long as I could. There was also the fear of rejection by my peers and by the public in general. I would read stories where people would be beaten or killed by being gay, let alone transgendered. I did not want to have that to happen to me, as I very much don’t like to be hurt. So when I moved to Michigan, I let people around me know that I was gay, but not as many as I would’ve liked. I would go to work dressed in men’s clothing with some makeup on; then when I came home to my sparsely equipped apartment, I could dress and act in a manner that felt more natural for me – as a woman.

I wanted the world to know I didn’t know how I really felt. It seemed to me that I was really on a mental collision course. I would go home to Columbus to visit my wife and kids for holidays and a lot of weekends, so I would come back to Grand Rapids on Sunday. Then Sunday through Thursday I lived in my apartment as a woman while home. Friday after work I drove back to Columbus, spent a couple days there and back to Grand Rapids to start the week again. The journey took 5 hours each way. It was not a very restful time off work nor was it very high quality family time visiting. The trips to Columbus started becoming fewer and fewer.  Part of this was brought on by an automobile accident that left me with a not so reliable an automobile for such a trip. Over time, it became the main reason not to go to Ohio at all. It appeared to me that my lack of traveling home was never any problem for my wife, as long as I kept sending money back to Columbus. If there was a problem with one of the children, I would get called and hear about it but not be able to do anything from the distance. This was difficult for me. I was torn between my love for my children and wanting to be there but knowing it was a 10 hour round trip.

After a couple of years, I got some money together and bought a mobile home and some furniture and was able to take up residence in much nicer surroundings. I had a small yard, and what I considered to be  a very large house for one person. It was at that point in time that I met a coworker named Niki who speculated that I might be gay, but showed interest in getting to know me as a friend So we went, for lack of a better term, on a date to the movies. As we came out of the movies, she held my hand and I held hers. I think we were both surprised that it felt nice to be holding hands. Then I sort of rejected the idea of a relationship it because I didn’t want to put anyone through what I’d already put my wife, Rita, through. Finally, I told her I was gay and had no romantic interest, but I didn’t mind being a friend.

The relationship continued and we became more and more involved. Then she was in an automobile accident and needed assistance for several weeks with daily care. She was unable to live in her own apartment building due to her injuries. Her apartment building was about 300 yards from where she had to park and then she would have to climb a flight and a half of stairs to get to her apartment. This was too much, so I offered for her to move into my place for a while. I only had six steps up and the car was parked right next to the mobile home. This proved to be much easier for her mobility.

By the time she gained strength and was able to care for herself, we decided that living together worked for us. We went looking for a rental that we could share with her school-aged daughter. She moved out of her apartment and I sold the mobile home, and we moved in together into a rented duplex townhouse.. My wife, Rita, and I had not lived together for over five years by this time. All that time I had continued to fully support my family in Columbus, but now the kids were grown. It was about this time, I came to the conclusion that as long as the money was coming in, Rita would never agree to any kind of divorce. I was advised by an attorney to give her notice that I was intending to stop sending money down.    The attorney was correct in that this definitely moved divorce proceedings along at a faster rate. The divorce was painful for both of us, or should I say all three of us Rita, Niki, and me; but we got through it.

After the divorce, Niki desired to buy a house so we would have some more permanency than a rental would provide. We found a place about 2 miles from where we were living, and Niki was able to make the purchase herself, since my financial position was quite dire after the divorce. Life seemed much more relaxed, but still I had urges that were never going away. I had begun to understand that I was transgender and longed for a time that I could feel more complete and more myself. After a couple years in our new home, Niki finally said to me, “Why don’t you just go ahead and transition because I think of you more as a woman that I do as a man.” And this led me to the decision to start the transition. I will discuss my transition in my next writing, which I hope will not take as long as this post has. Writing this is an emotional journey in itself and sometimes requires time of reflection and contemplation between posts. Please bear with me in this fact.