The Spouse - Blog Posts
My spouse is now a fully-fledged Necron Phaeron; and I could not be prouder of them!
(Seriously, though; it’s been a real pleasure, watching them pick up new techniques and sharpen their brush skills at warp speed. I can’t wait to see what they do next!)
Started my journey into Warhammer painting after getting a kit for Christmas. I thought i'd show off a few of the figures I've painted.
(please be nice, I'm so new to miniature painting)
I love these lil Necron dudes. I'm told using all metallic paint was the equivalent of learning to swim in the deep end. 🤷 I'm also hearing using a cold palette is unusual, too. 🫠 Maybe I'm doing it wrong?
My spouse and I just had the most wonderfully absurd exchange regarding a hypothetical scenario in which the titular protagonist of the 1968 musical Oliver! was portrayed by the (inexplicably and uncommented-upon) fully-grown actor, Henry Cavill.
This lead to the following delightful mental image:
Okay, but I have to give some context to my spouse’s tags here:
As a teenage, I played the beloved Nintendo 64 classic GoldenEye 007 with my two brothers; and we were speculating as to what the upper limit was for number of enemies slain in any given mission.
To test this, we used various cheats to render the player character invincible, arm him with two rapid-firing machine guns, disable reloads, and provide an infinite supply of ammunition.
We then proceeded to the latter part of the Facility mission; where - during the climax - a never-ending supply of Russian soldiers spawn, and enter the room via the same narrow doorway.
By the simple expedient of placing the player character on the other side of the door, these hapless troops had no option but to run directly into his cross-hairs. We then used a rubber band to hold the fire button on the controller down, and went to dinner.
Returning an hour later, we discovered that our hero James Bond had single-handedly killed no less than 3,000 men; at a rate of a little less than one per second.
Fast forward: I’m in college, and my (soon-to-be) spouse is living with me in my dorm. Fortuitously we had the same Nintendo 64 to entertain us; and a copy of GoldenEye 007′s spiritual successor: Perfect Dark.
My spouse greatly delighted in playing the mission Mr. Blonde’s Revenge; in which the titular protagonist golden-haired behemoth fights his way to the top of a skyscraper with the intent of kidnapping the CEO stationed at the top.
For whatever reason (class, I assume), I had to leave; and when I came back, my spouse was still playing. On completing the mission, we discovered that they had also managed to end the lives of some 3,000 unlucky guards.
Here’s the important difference: during the experiment my brothers and I conducted, we reached this goal by taking advantage of a quirk of level design to automate, at speed and scale, the dispatch of enemy NPCs.
My spouse, on the other hand, had committed their incredible murder spree by hand; endlessly stalking the lower floor of the skyscraper and by various turns firing upon, blowing up, and bludgeoning each new security officer that had the misfortune of ending up in their cross-hairs.
(And filling them with crossbow bolts. So many, many crossbow bolts.)
Hence the epithet: “Captain Overkill”.
More charcuterie!
I had big plans to break out the charcuterie board for New Year’s Eve; alas, it was not to be. (There was - as is so often the case with these things - an unscheduled trip to the ER, which I’m sure I will detail at some point.) So everything got pushed back to New Year’s day instead.
My presentation is a bit lacking, and I wasn’t able to source tomato bruschetta or bacon jam; but the end result was still pretty delicious, and made up for an otherwise sucky time!
Clint Eastwood
Last night my spouse hit me up with one of their best impressions. With the most gravely, world-weary voice they could muster, they said the following:
“I want to do a Clint Eastwood impression, but... ...Turns out you need to know... ...Some of his lines.”
I love them so much!
Sleeping arrangements: addendum 2
I have been reliably informed that my previous illustration of the idiosyncrasies of flashback-driven sleeping positions did not sufficiently emphasize my spouse's ample biceps; I have therefore attempted to rectify this issue as follows:
Sleeping arrangements: addendum 1
This has obviously been on my mind, but it was only very recently that I was able to connect all the pieces.
I believe that I was subjected to some kind of trauma during my early childhood. I have no memory of these events; but evidently they left some kind of impression on me because I experience flashbacks.
Some factors that trigger these episodes include high levels of general stress; moments of emotionally-charged interpersonal conflict; and nighttime. (Also: certain bedroom activities that are probably best skipped here.)
Well: I have a lot of undischarged stress at present; so come nighttime, things get... flashbacky. Generally what happens is that the spouse and I end up falling asleep like this:
Now, I really want to stress that my spouse is awesome; they always makes sure to communicate that I'm safe, and if I want to be closer that's okay, and if not, that's okay too. There's nothing they’re doing in this scenario that's an issue.
For me though... Well, as the diagram indicates, there is a Zone Of Safety at the corner of the bed and moving outside of it induces anxiety.
When the flashback reaches peak criticality, I'll move off the bed entirely and on to the floor. (It used to be that I would relocate to our walk-in closet, but apparently the space between the bed and the wall is now sufficiently protective per my brain.)
So here's the last piece of the puzzle: when trying to explain this situation to a friend last night, it occurred to me that I had things the wrong way around. The problem is not that I have to be on the floor; the problem is that I can't be in bed with another person.
It's not safe.
...And that brings us full circle. As I stated: I don't know what the nature of the initial trauma was that began things. Based on this latest clue however, the implications are clear... and I can't say I like them.
Charcuterie
Ah, my spouse knows me so well! For Valentine's Day they got me my own charcuterie board, and I had to put it to use right away!
Ahhh, I love them so much! ❤️
Carrying
I was talking to my spouse in the kitchen the other day; and to be cute, I hopped up onto the counter. Apropos of nothing, they picked me up and carried me around for a bit!
(I was somewhat worried that it would be too much for them - I’m not the lightest girl - but nope, they made it look easy!)
It’s another one of those moments where I got to experience a long-overdue moment of alignment between mind and body. I cherish it.
Coming out
I have come out to a great many people these past eighteen months; and I have been fortunate in that there have effectively been no negative reactions. (I know too many people that have not had the same experience, and my heart bleeds for them.)
There were two instances where I was genuinely terrified of how the other party might react. The first was my spouse - not because I thought for a second that they would respond poorly, but rather because I felt that I was unilaterally introducing an enormous life change into a relationship that I value beyond estimation.
(Of course, I should not have worried - they accepted this new state of affairs immediately. That’s the kind of amazing person my spouse is.)
The second was my friend and colleague of fifteen years; a fiercely intelligent and analytic man of few words. He is an émigré of the Soviet Union and as such holds very different views from myself in many matters; including, I feared, the subject of transgenderism.
Again, I should not have concerned myself; as he delivered an answer that in one sentence perfectly encapsulated the man’s outlook, brevity, and uniquely blended mode of English and Russian speech.
“Ah, well; that’s just your decision.”
To those unaccustomed to his way of speaking, it might sound harsher than intended; but on the contrary, this was one of the greatest endorsements I could have received and remains a highlight of the coming-out process: “Hey, you do you”.
Dancing
I did not dance in in my past life. At various points I was cajoled into the act, which resulted in a display lacking any kind of gracefulness or aesthetic pleasure.
I played a lot of Dance Dance Revolution, which I love dearly but resembles actual dancing in much the same way that Jazzercise resembles actual jazz.
Post-HRT, I found myself spontaneously dancing; while enjoyable for me however, I doubt the end result was particularly enjoyable for anyone else.
Recently my spouse has made a point of impromptu slow-dancing with me. This is not a new thing per se; but they have very sagely opted to start taking the lead.
That’s how I found myself this afternoon, hand in hers, eyes closed. It was then that I experienced what I can only describe as a profound moment of rightness, and I was so overcome that I burst into tears and was rendered speechless.
I can’t stop thinking about it. For one, singular moment, I didn’t feel like a work in progress; or an imposter; or a woman with an asterisk over her gender. I felt like a girl; the girl I always had been and will be.
I look forward to more moments like this!
Unexpected HRT side-effect #8
Skittering!
Strictly speaking I started HRT on year ago; but my endocrinologist didn’t want to go full-throttle with dosages until he had established that doing so would, in fact, not cause me to die (which seems perfectly reasonable).
It really wasn’t until around... April-ish?... that my levels actually got to where they needed to be; and the moment it happened, it was like a switch in my body just flipped.
Then I started skittering around the apartment. I would bounce off the walls! Dance in the kitchen. There was shimmying. Oh so much shimmying!
I told my spouse: “Sorry, I don’t know why I do this. I guess it’s just a thing!”
I’ll never forget their response: “You don’t need to apologize. It means you’re happy.” Beat. “I’ve... I’ve waited so long for this. For you to be happy.”
Of course, this does rather make it sound as if the preceding years were spent in unspeakable misery, and this was not the case. It might be accurate however to say that I spent a lot of time giving my love to others and never reserving any for myself. Undoubtedly there are greater acts of loving oneself out there; but I figure committing to turn one’s gender upside down is up there!
Here’s to my newfound physical expression of joyousness!