Life's Lament - Built to last?

So at about the time I came to my own acceptance of being trans I felt I had to make some gestures to my wife that showed her that the real me was a normal, caring, sensitive woman. Something she could not see much of in me because my male asshole was in the way. So back in November, after some dark days for the two of us (look for a retrospective post soon called Gathering Clouds) I decided I would show her, that the real me was something different. So we bought furniture.

Yeah, that seems odd doesn't it. Well here is the logic. I am a woodworker, yes I know, how guylike you are saying. Well it is not so much as you think. Here, I am a sculptor of classical functional forms, my medium is wood and natural materials. My studio looks a lot like a woodshop. There feel better? I made it into a girl thing. I am an artist, who works in wood. And I think being creative is something that gender does not have a lock on. If anything my transness makes me better at it.

Ok so you are saying, well it looks like you make furniture or something. You would be right, with one exception, I have not made much, you see I have been working on building out my shop (er studio) so that upon retirement I could do nothing but make furniture in my copious spare time. And so there is the the rub. I would not let her buy furniture, as it works as a muse for me to make it. In the meantime, we have knock down crap furniture that looks like a dorm room. And she looked at me as the obstacle. I looked at it as, if you are going to buy something, then why should I bother making it. And felt she was trying to take away my chance to be creative. She was not happy, I was not happy. And then I accepted being trans. And things were different.

I asked myself, what was more important, that I make the furniture, or that it be in the style I like with the quality I would demand. And my female self, who really is part Martha Stewart, Rachel Ray and Nigella Lawson, and probably way smarter than my male Neanderthal brain, said to me, girl you want it to look good. And so, as a woman, I gave up on having to own the creation of the furniture. So, we went shopping, and picked out Stickley, which is my obsession anyhow. And so today, months later, the bedroom set and the dining room hutch and china cabinet arrived. And they are lovely.

But I basically got a bedroom set for a bedroom I do not sleep in anymore. For a time after coming out my wife was a little affectionate to me. But now that I shave, and in general, am a bit more girly, she really is not interested in me, even as a snuggle buddy. I discovered this by finding the bed empty most nights. She was sleeping elsewhere in the house. And after some consideration, I decided I would start sleeping in the spare bedroom, to make her more comfortable. And besides, I prefer to have my panties on when I sleep, and she does not want to see that. And in fact, I want to start sleeping in a nightie, so that would be out anyhow.

But here is the lament bit from the title. As they were bringing in the furniture she said, do you want to put your dresser in the other bedroom? I said well I am not sure about that. Mind you, I have pretty much been taking my guy clothes, straight from the laundry these days. My undies and socks (only panties and girl socks now for me) come from the closet in my office where I hide them. I basically use the master bedroom as storage of guy clothes and that is about it. So her statement was not wrong, and truth be told I would like some nice things in my bedroom too, but that would signify permanence, and would I be allowed to keep my panties in that dresser? Probably not.

As they brought in the rest of the pieces I could not help but think about that offer of hers to let me put the dresser elsewhere. And I saw that she was sad, and I felt detached. What normally should have been a really exciting day, just reminded me that I am changing, and my future with her is in question, and I could see that she had pain too because of me, yet again. And so the new furniture is here, just in time for me not to really enjoy it. I hope it makes her happy, she has what she wanted now. Or maybe she is not and has the same lament I do. But for different reasons. The ride off into the sunset is probably on hold for her.

And so I felt lament, because I do not know what the future holds for me, other than it is very likely I will complete this transition (lets say it is a really high number). And it is likely that she will not be able to take that. And at somepoint, we will be talking about who will keep that furniture, and of course the answer will be, she does. Because as I make myself over, I will probably have to make that furniture I originally planned to anyhow, but now, just for me. And that, makes me sad.