I came out as nonbinary late in life. As a person who was AFAB in 1972 and grew up in the 70s and 80s in the Midwest, there wasn't an name for what I felt about myself. I hated being forced to present as a girl.
One of the kids I knew (also a girl at the time) started telling all of us she was a boy. None of her family knew how to respond to this, so most of them made fun of her and told her to knock it off. I say her because she now lives as a woman and is a lesbian and very happy.
I remember at the time her expression of being another gender made me think about how I felt. Was a boy? That didn't feel right either.
The worst part of it for me was that I was sexually abused for ten years as a child. And groomed. Many of the later years I was told repeatedly that it was my job as an adult woman to marry a man, have sex with him whenever he wanted, bear his children and take care of his household.
I had my first child at seventeen and my second at nineteen, by the man who was my high school boyfriend. We married when I was a senior in high school. As an adult, I was a trophy wife. Always look my best to be shown off, wear the right sexy dresses, and raise our two children.
I memorized every family member's birthday, and, when his siblings married, everyone's anniversaries. I learned what everyone liked and took care of what gifts to buy for those occasions and holidays.
Since we separated (after I came out as nonbinary, although that was not the primary reason) I have had to remind him of when his family members birthdays are so he can call them.
I asked him at Christmas if he had sent them a gift (I had). He didn't because he couldn't think of anything to get them.
For his father's birthday, I had already picked out and sent a gift when my ex called me and said he had no idea what to get his dad. I gave him a couple ideas and he gratefully found something to send.
He called his father on his birthday and they discussed the gifts. He said his dad repeatedly called me my dead name. My ex reminded his father that my name has been legally changed and he should call me my preferred name. His dad said he didn't care, and he would continue to call me what he has called me what he had his whole life.
This is a man who walked me down the aisle. Who has called me his kid since I've known him. He doesn't like to be called by his first name, but by his middle name, and expects everyone to respect that. He has a niece who was known by one name as a child, and as a teen, asked family to call her a different name. Everyone did.
It's clear to me why he refuses to stop calling me by my dead name. And the fact he doesn't know that I'm the one who has always made sure he and my MIL have always gotten gifts they'll like is something they probably won't ever know and probably wouldn't care because that was my job.
I left their son because he was a controlling, emotionally abusive partner. They'll never know any of that because he tells everyone we just grew apart. His mom begged me to get back together with him, and not let go of our perfect marriage.
They won't know he told me repeatedly he didn't like me for eight years. They won't know that he exploded with anger when I came out to him and screamed at me multiple times that summer. That he embarrassed me, our nonbinary child, and their husband when we were visiting them. I won't tell my in-laws any of that.
But I'll never buy them a gift again.
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