This is part 6 of a series in the tale of my awkward college romance.  Following are links to the earlier parts in case you have missed any of this excruciating tale:

Part 1

This last year was the most incredible, unbelievable, and fantastic year of my life. I started the year hoping to be able to take the first of several steps toward becoming the woman I know I was born to be. Instead, my transition was physically complete in August, a miracle by any measure since that part of the transition process typically takes at least two years. Mine started and ended in a mere five months.

It was not so wonderful for the transgender community in general. There were highs and lows, to be sure. The worst news was that worldwide we saw a 300% increase in the number of transgender people being murdered compared to 2008. Some were executed by their governments; others were shot, stabbed, beaten and/or strangled to death by deranged and malicious people. All died just because they sought to live the truth of who they are.

(Reporter’s Note: Captain Hetero and I go way back. California, Maine, New Jersey – we’ve crossed paths before. I’m portrayed as his Arch-Nemesis in the papers, and have come to enjoy the creative latitudes of my villainous role. The following is my account of the events of Jan. 15, 2010, the night I stole Captain Hetero’s mask.)

As my previous efforts to infiltrate Captain Hetero’s rural Kentucky compound had failed, I spent the days immediately following the New Jersey Senate’s decision to deny marriage rights to its gay and lesbian citizens planning my attack. I knew that it would be at least a week before Captain Hetero’s return, as he usually spent the days immediately following such votes securing favors for obedient public officials and raising donations from local churches for his Wayback Foundation, the funding arm of his worldwide efforts to protect the “sanctity of marriage” from gays’ and lesbians’ demands for equal rights.

During these intervening days, I collected the provisions that I would need: Beggin’ Strips to appease the dogs, wirecutters and sunglasses to protect my eyes from the blinding stadium lights, a blow-up doll of Sarah Palin to distract the Captain’s notorious Dick Army, a Snuggie which, as everyone knows, can be used to temporarily subdue Captain Hetero, (yes, even he will succumb to the functional, comforting warmth of what is undoubtedly the gayest product ever advertised on late night TV). It was in this instant when I would do it, snatch the mask that gives him his strength and run for the altar in the Wayback Church, upon which the mask must be burned to completely obliterate every remnant of sanctity that heterosexual marriage yet retains.

I’d like to welcome Pat Hitt Martinez.  Pat was one of the plaintiffs in the pivotal  Martinez v County of Monroe, which forced New York State to recognize same-sex marriage. ~ Lori Hahn, GLBTQ Editor

A total of $74,000,000 (that’s seventy four MILLION dollars) was spent in support of Proposition 8, which rescinded marriage rights for same-sex couples in California.   At this writing, proponents of both sides sit in a courtroom trying to defend their positions as to the constitutionality of this hateful legislation.

Big Love–the story of a polygamous fundamentalist Mormon family–is a great show.  I just can’t get enough of it.  I grew up among Mormons and attended the church with friends from time to time.  My parents joined up for several years.  And I understand that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints has made some noise about exposing sacred rituals on the program and not getting the facts just exactly right.  The show is not really about religion at all; it’s about trying to live the life one chooses within the confines of strict American social structures.  It’s about us.

The show centers around one family, the Henricksons, consisting of Bill Henrickson (Bill Paxton) and his three wives, Barbara (wonderfully played by Jeanne Tripplehorn), Nicole (Golden Globe winner Chloe Sevigny), and the exuberant Margene (Ginnifer Goodwin).  Bill’s first wife, Barb, has had cancer and lost the equipment for child-bearing, and according to the show, LDS people believe large families are essential in the afterlife; they are a duty as well as a joy.  Bill and Barb must find another way to expand their family.  They just don’t have the equipment to do it themselves, just like us.  Each wife lives in a separate home in Utah, side by side in suburban America, and their offspring range in age from infants to age 18.  Behind the three homes, three yards merge into one, and the territory is filled with life and activity.  Bill and Nicole came from Juniper Creek, a compound housing a more radical sect that promotes polygamy and arranges marriages for girls, many of whom are still minors.  Compound members are often caricatures, manipulative and malignant or extremely naïve.   It is a culture of its own.

The holidays and memories of the past always seem to go hand in hand. Maybe it’s because the holidays bring back memories of childhood, family gatherings or significant events. Maybe it’s the smells of the holidays… cookies, fruitcake, the tree. Scientists say that smell is a larger trigger to memory than events themselves.

This holiday season was no different, with my partner and I talking about Christmases gone by. We took turns sharing some of our Christmas memories from childhood and adulthood, both painful and funny. There was one Christmas in particular that I shared with her and would like to share with you. Why this Christmas and none of the other forty-something Christmases? This specific Christmas sums up a few things for me as a lesbian.

Moving into a new neighborhood always carries some risk to it.  You never know if you’re going to have good neighbors or if you’ll be spending your time peering out of your curtains to make sure it’s safe to leave your house.  When you’re a gay or lesbian couple, the anxiety ratchets up a notch, because there’s always the underlying concern of how much “PDA” you will feel comfortable with in your yard, how you introduce yourselves, etc. When we moved into our house, my wife and I decided that we would simply be who we were–an older, lesbian couple who were happily settled together and wanted to participate in our neighborhood community.

Seven years on, this plan seems to have worked well, mostly thanks to my partner’s more gregarious personality.  She knows everyone and their dogs, chats with the kids in the street, leaves cans for the homeless guy in the park to collect and puts the wheelbarrow full of free squash out in the driveway in the summer time.  We have been lucky.  I know there are gay and lesbian couples who are not so fortunate in their neighborhoods.  I know there is still hate and distrust out there for people of any “deviation” simply because they exist.