Kids Say the Darnedest Things

When my wife and I had been dating less than a year, we were put in a position where we ended up taking in her youngest sibling, her sister Kayla. That was an insane first year of our relationship - we met in February, moved in together in June, got engaged on the wife's birthday in November, and a week later suddenly had a 15 year old girl to take care of. Kayla lived with us for about a year and a half, and it was certainly an adventure.

About four years ago, Kayla told me that when she gets married, she wants me to walk her down the aisle. Her dad (different dad than Holley) is not in her life at all, and I naturally expected her to ask one of her brothers. I was completely floored when she said she wanted me to do it, and beyond flattered.

Fast forward a few years.

When I went into the hospital last year, Kayla spent most of that weekend here with Holley, trying to help any way she could, and Holley ended up telling Kayla about everything that was going on with me, from the depression to being molested to the suicidal thoughts and behaviors and finally the gender identity issues.

Kayla has turned into one of my biggest allies, being far more supportive than even Holley. She was the one who did my makeup a few weeks after I got out of the hospital, gave me a bunch of makeup, and gave me my tutu. I know that any time I am feeling shitty, I can text her and she'll do whatever I need. Usually I just need someone to listen to me vent, and she's great at that, doesn't try to dominate the conversation or change my mind. She just listens.

Labor Day weekend, while Holley was camping in southern Ohio, I went to visit Kayla. We were in her bedroom chatting, and I told her one of the only negatives to eventually completely transitioning is that I wouldn't be able to walk her down the aisle.

We were at a wedding tonight for a girl Kayla went to high school with, and who spent a lot of time at our house when Kayla lived with us.

Toward the end of the night, Kayla pulled me aside, and said, "I don't give a shit how you look, I still want you to walk me down the aisle."

I honestly don't know how I held back the tears.

Words

I am now 13 days into hormone therapy. Estrogen and spironolactone coursing through my veins.

I wish I was happier about it, but I've been so trapped in my own head thinking about other things that I'm not letting myself enjoy the highs and work through the lows, although the current low is hard to ignore - a massive headache that's going on its forth day.

I wish I could let the muffled voice in my head shout as loud as it's trying to, and let the happiness that's inside there show.

Spoiler: I can't let myself be happy. It's apparently not my style.