Cross-posted from my own journal.
thebritchick and I have been writing and talking back and forth for almost two years.
Most of it very good.
we have learned a lot about each other. What we like and don't like. Who we are. Who we want to be (get to that in a moment).
Yesterday, we reached a plateau. She has known about me coming out and being transgendered for almost as long as I have. However, I have said nothing about G.R.S. (gender reassignment surgery) and my desire for it. I have been half-heartedly saying I would never consider it. I have pretty much been lying to myself. Part of me wants it desperately, with the fervor of a two year old reaching for a sparkley. The adult in me is more reasonable. Knowing the obstructions that American Society puts on it (mostly financial, sure, they admit that gender dysphoria exists, but they won't help treat it).
She has pointed out to me that it is something that the U.K. will screen mightily for, but, if they feel it is justified, they will cover the cost (it's called being civilized, what a concept).
And suggested I consider moving there.
She knows about the roller coaster ride that is my life. She loves me enough to accept it. How lucky can I possibly get?
Have I decided yet?
No, she knows this and understands.
There are aspects of the United Kingdom that scare the piss out of me. It is an Island, and hence is an economy based on scarcity. Things cost more.....Lot's more. I don't know how I will deal with that. I know something about the political system (yeah Vote of Non-Confidence) but not enough, and I absolutely do not drink (so much for fandom in the U.K. from what I have heard, pretty much pub-based) but still I weigh the good and the bad.
How can life be good when it is this confusing?
Shelley