I don't shine if you don't shine.

It seems I spoke too soon when I told our doctor earlier this week that we seem to both have recovered from our series of colds this winter -- I can tell that I'm fighting something off even as we speak. We were in the doctor's office for a check-up for Daddy, which is especially important since he is on T.

I'm even more proud of him than usual because recently he completed disclosing his trans status at work, which was something we were both concerned about. I've mentioned before that we work in the nightclub industry, but additionally we work at a venue that is traditionally lesbian. When he was hired we agreed that we would settle in and then we'd disclose, in case the staff turned out to be anti-trans. I'm happy to say that isn't the case, but I'm embarrassed to say that I am still confusing pronouns at work for him.

In fact, this happened the other night. We were outside having a quick smoke and a woman approached us for a light. She drunkenly began telling me an intimate story about her and her American lover, (this is an unasked-for talent that I seem to have: random strangers tell me their deepest secrets on a very regular basis, and in all kinds of situations. It's definitely more noticable at the club due to the alcoholic lubrication of the tongue and sometimes it can be very awkward for me. Flattering, but awkward.), saw that we were a couple, and immediately read us as boy/girl and therefore straight.

"Oh, you aren't gay?" she asked me, eyebrows rising.

"Yes," I answered, drawing an invisible line in the air between him and me, "we both are."

Her brow furrowed and she swayed on her feet. "I'm confused. You're both gay?"

She was drunk, and I rarely take that as the time to educate people on what it is to be trans -- the path of least resistance, I feel, is the best tack to take with the inebriated masses. But what I did next was nonetheless wrong on my part, and hurtful to my K.

"Girl," I said, pointing to myself, "and girl," pointing to K. "Yes, we are both gay."

He went back inside abruptly and I briefly realized that I'd fucked up, all in the name of getting out of this unwanted conversation with a stranger I would never see again. So I excused myself and we finished work without mentioning the incident.

Later, in our bedroom, he suddenly said, "I am not upset about this but I need to say for the record that I'm out at work, so you don't need to tell people I'm your girlfriend anymore."

I was taken aback, partly because I'd intended to bring it up myself, and apologize, but hadn't settled into bed with him yet and therefore hadn't said anything yet. And I felt ashamed, because it was wrong of me, even though I'd just been trying to get out of a conversation I didn't want to have in the first place. I apologized and we went to sleep.

But it's been bothering me since. And last night one of the regulars, one that knows us both, approached us to tell us that he wishes he could transition, too. It was a brief but very good conversation between he and K and somewhat me, but watching them together, one of my favourite aspects of K shone through to me: his willingness to mentor those who need it, without question.

I appreciate and admire who he is, his uncompromising selfhood, his unshaken and unshakable knowledge of his identity. I am still learning how to navigate the murky waters of sexuality and gender, but I'm glad he is holding my hand and giving me the gift of patience while I do. It's something he's done throughout the decade of our friendship; in fact, it's his firm declaration that there is nothing wrong with being who you are and loving who you love that gave me the courage to be who I am and love who I love. His self-respect bled onto me, at a time when I most needed it, and helped shape the person that I am today. I cannot overstate the positive impact that he has had on me and on my development as a person.

And I needed that lesson again. It's both important and not important to be able to explain who we are (who he is and who I am as it relates to him) to people that are out with friends and drinking and having a good time. But I respect and love him with all my heart, and my actions need to reflect that better, even in dicey situations.

I am going to be more aware of how my language and behavior reflect upon him.