Whoever You May Become

To Nick

To My Best Friend, my husband, my Soulmate:

"...I love you for who you are now, and whoever you may become." Those are some of the words our family and friends heard you say as you held my hand beneath a wooden arch in that field in Lyons, Colorado--all twelve of them.

I'd been such a mess after you read your vows, that I could barely read my own creased piece of lined paper.

"...For who you are now, and whoever you may become."

I can't recall verbatim a word I said to you, or the things Mike or Renee said when they stood during our ceremony to profess their happiness for us... But I remember knowing at that moment exactly what you meant by those words specifically, that none of them knew yet. I knew I'd remember those words for the rest of my life.

You knew I was trans.

You knew before I was ever brave enough to shed the denial, and fear, and guilt, I had shouldered for so long.

You knew I almost threw up in your mother's car when she, and my mom, and I, went to the bridal shop to pick out a dress. You'd seen me break down in Forever21 because I didn't belong amidst the racks of women's clothing.

Before we were even into each other, you'd heard me lie to Kevin's face when he asked point-blank, "Oh, are you trans too?", because you knew my insecure boyfriend was in the room.

You knew I hated myself for not being able to level with the girl I saw in the mirror. That girl that I had to see every day... The one I had to dress, and do her hair, and fumble through life looking like.

But now, thanks to you, I'm not ashamed to know me.

I stand in front of the mirror flexing my scrawny arms, a proud twenty-nine-year-old man, because the only delusions I have now, are that my biceps look bigger than they did last week. (They don't.)

And I couldn't care less if I get carded when I wanna buy a video game, or the second we step foot into a Romantix, because my real puberty didn't hit until I started 'T' at twenty-six.

You knew I was standing in that white dress in front of everyone because I was doing it for our mothers—the last gift I could really give to them as their 'daughter'.

You knew you were saying goodbye to the girl people saw you with and making a promise to the man you chose to love for the rest of our lives.

I knew that because I know you...and because from the day we met, you've always known me.

-Alix