The grim reality of divorce, and no, I will not be a victim

A woman’s tears speak of inner strength not of weakness

If there is a grain of truth in the old saw that the darkest hour is just before daylight, then I am ready.  The belly of the beast is upon me, and while everything that is beautiful in my life is more than enough to sustain me, there are times when even beautiful things can feel beaten down or lifeless.

My wife and I own a business together.  Who it will end up belong to is one of the tussles we are currently working through.  We both want it.  Who will end up with it is a mystery.  While sharing it might have been an option, her behaviour shows this to be an impossibility.

We are both staying in the same property right now.  Fortunately, there are two buildings, and I am in one with friends and colleagues, and she is in another.  But the staff wanders, and we wander, back and forth between the two.  We see each other fairly often.

She is quite beautiful and has taken to wearing a different sheen of make-up, a kind that gives a silvery sheen to her lips and face.  It is cold looking.  She has done her hair in a new, lighter colour, and appears to have lost weight, overall, she looks fabulous.

I read recently that women tend to do better after divorce than men do.  The article went on to posit that this was because in most cases, women are oppressed, and that divorce is like setting them free.  Our divorce is clearly different.  While I do hope she thrives going forward, the pattern should not hold here for two reasons: I am not a man and shaking off my “oppression” is the cause of this divorce.

She threw in my face a display of essential oils and body oils that I have in my home office—not literally, but figuratively.  She was angry that I should spend such money on “myself” when I am not giving the money that she has demanded of me.  It is perhaps a little amusing that this woman who owns 90% of our collective assets, has savings greater than mine, and is more than capable of working (and has had a very successful career), should want more, having gotten used to me turning over everything…leases, properties, etc.  This is a severe case of FinDom gone awry.  In other words, a life of total devotion in marriage should still belong to her outside of marriage, when the dissolution of that marriage is of her choosing and based on a rejection of my identity.

Where is this all going?  The law says that assets must be split 50:50. Why can’t we just do that then?  Why must we haemorrhage money and spend so much time on bickering when the outcome is assured?  My very wise lawyer simply notes that there will be no settlement or deal until she is ready to do so…but at least she is now in the “angry” phase, which is a prelude to settlement.  What it does to our children, is doing, however, is reprehensible.  And while I should never wish it on any child, no matter how mature, it is inevitable that they will see her lies and deception, and what she did to put her finger on the scales in support of her own case.  I can’t imagine any way of saying to a child that it’s okay to lie for your own gain.

In the meantime, I wish to go out and conquer the world.  I can’t stand the victim narrative that surrounds transgender people.  I get it.  We are in physical danger.  We are ostracized, criticised, hated by some.  We are most certainly discriminated against.  But I am not willing to let them interfere with trying to thrive.  

I wrote about the beautiful experience of solidarity I felt from dear friends in a small town in Italy over Christmas.  My wife had poisoned the waters in the community by telling people of my transgender status in whatever version of the story suits her ends, and that had a chilling effect.  Not unexpected in a conservative, catholic, small community.  Feeling the embrace of friends who saw me as me and were willing to stand with me despite judgement was warming in ways that are wonderful to understand and share with you, but almost impossible to describe.  Where I am now, in the town of our business, she has done the same, and the frosty reception or surreptitious glances at my chest, are confirmation of the rumour mill.  But in this country, it is illegal to be transgender.  She is attempting to put me in danger.

To be here, I have had to step back into boy mode.  It hurts in ways that are hard to describe.  Oddly, I woke up thinking that I look forward to wearing boxer shorts once I no longer have a whotsit, because there are few things more appealing than a female body pushing the edges in “male” clothes…and gosh, the games we can play as non-binary, are really delightful.  But this just means that I am crying more than usual, which has the curious effect of making me feel stronger.

As boy me, I used to think that a woman crying was expressing weakness.  Instead, I have understood that it is reflection of her fundamental strength.  As if to say, ‘I am saddened that I am being pushed to the point of having to exert my fundamental strength’, but it is true, and I find resolve and power result from it.

I drew a collection of Tarot cards yesterday evening that were rather uncanny in how aligned they were with my feelings.  The sequence was quite something:

• What should I be myself? Two of Pentacles, upright.  Meaning?  The emergence of options which don’t seem perfect.  Being torn between different options.  Unable to prioritise.  This is specific in relation to documents, contracts.  Recommendation?  Focus on what you really want.  Define your ideal goal and work from there.
• What should I do?  The Blank Card, upright.  Meaning?  Divine energy.  The higher powers give a person a very powerful flow of pure strength as a reward for following the path of destiny.  The card promises a huge amount of concentrated energy which will change a person’s destiny.  By directing this energy, we create a new reality for ourselves.  Recommendation?  Seize a new opportunity.
• What should I avoid?  Justice, reversed.  Meaning?  Feeling like a victim.  Instead of solving problems, a person gets lost in their own illusions.  They seek to blame others, won’t take responsibility for themselves.  The reversal of the card is that one must recognise that we are solely responsible for what happens in our own lives.  Recommendation?  Stop feeling like a victim.  Follow the rules and do things officially.

On a romantic and otherwise rather special level…several things are happening to me at once.

My reflexologist put a button in my ear that I am to press to unblock my female sexual energy.  It appears to be working.  More unusually, pressing on it, as I am meant to do, puts me in almost instant sub-space.  There are mutual feelings developing which are quite interesting and exotic to explore.  And when I say that ‘it appears to be working’ I do mean it.  I have been feeling aroused sexually of late, and this without the physiological response of a tumescent whotsit…I will have to consult my transgender sisters to better understand this.

I have my first meeting with the surgeon who is most likely the one who will perform the operation that will change my physical manifestation from male to female, at least the most psychologically significant part of it.  I can’t wait.  I am also scared.  This is a big operation, with a recovery time that can take as long as 18 months.  I will change my gender markers officially at that point.  And then I will also no longer be “illegal” in the place where I post this from.

Curious fact: did you know that Iran performs the most sex reassignment surgeries of any nation?  This is their way of handling gay men.  I find it quite ironic that in my case they would be making me into a gay person by doing such an operation on me. 

I have found a happy landing place with the Domme I am devoted to, which is one that is playful and fun, but which also allows for the expression of friendship, and has eased into a gentleness of interaction that feels graceful in how we are able to energise one another.  There was nothing more than I ever dreamt of in this vein.

I did also have an impractical conversation with another Domme who is both a professional and a lifestyle player, but service to her would require me to be where she lives, and that is unlikely in the short term, even if fate seems to bring me to her city over and over.  What I enjoyed most in speaking to her was that all thoughts of whether I am submissive or a slave went out the window as she nonchalantly dressed in front of me and calmly told me what she expected, and I felt my whole being respond to the things she wanted.

When we scrape away everything else, even the sexual parts, we get to the raw need…that the essence of me finds its must sublime expression in the shape of service to the divine feminine, no matter what form that takes.  

Following this path is leading me towards deep engagement in the world of charity, and active involvement in a woman’s charity.  Once a domme asked me what skills I had, and I wished I could say the things that she seemed to need: photography, photo editing, kinky writing, web development skills.  In the case of the charity, what they need is what I have…executive advisory skills.  And yes, they are engaging with me as a trans woman.  

This is the future.  I seize it with both hands.