The husband and I (we’re still married – at least for now) never talked about what we should do for presents for Christmas or birthdays, so without having set any rules or expectations I felt that I could only do what I always did: I bought loads of gifts.

He was delighted with them – they were unexpected because of the situation between us. He was, however, glad – because they kinda cleared things up for him (he now feels able to buy me something for Christmas), and they were the only gifts he received on his birthday. I was afraid that they would be – and I didn’t want him to feel bad if nobody else got him anything. He had precious few cards.

He has been ill with a lung infection on top of a recent COPD diagnosis, made worse because he takes an immune suppressant to combat rheumatism. For him, rheumatism manifests in painful joints that make walking very painful.

It also causes his psoriasis. He had to stop the anti-inflammatory medications to give his body chance to fight the lung infection.

However, he’d taken himself on a weekend to London, so had resumed the rheumatism medication to enable him to get around. But he is mostly over the lung infection. COPD – that’s for life and will only get worse.

I also found out that he’d not had any heating since he’d moved into his flat in August! Idiot! Why didn’t he say?! That’s not going to help him.

I offered to take a look at the thermostat. I didn’t actually expect to be able to do anything, but I said “maybe I’ll just get lucky,” which I think removed any feelings that he might have that I thought I was cleverer than him.

As it was, I discovered that there was a battery compartment – and the batteries were flat! So he now has heating! Hurrah!

After sorting out the heating, I drove us into The New Forest for a meal.

He told me what he’d been up to on the weekend – getting to London, navigating the city itself, but avoiding the tube because he didn’t know how to get tickets and certainly wouldn’t have felt confident actually riding it – it can be super confusing resurfacing from the underground afterwards.

He went to a few bars and did some shopping – and he’d been to see Cabaret at the Kit Kat Klub!

I told him that I was very proud of him for sorting it all out – he’d have left much of the logistics to me in the past. He has dyspraxia, so directions (especially left and right) are very difficult for him.

He said he enjoyed it, but he felt a bit sad and lonely on his own. I could feel that – I suppose that I felt sad that I hadn’t gone with him (not that it would have been a good idea).

After we’d ordered food, he started talking about how he was feeling about how things had fallen out between us. Whilst there was no warning, I wasn’t surprised that he’d brought it up, if a little disheartened that was where the conversation went.

I said “it’s your birthday, we can talk about whatever you like,” which he thought was a strange thing to say – as though he’s only allowed to talk about stuff on his birthday.

It wasn’t overwhelming. For a start, I don’t think he got too deep, too emotional, or too intense, but also I knew that at the end of the night I would be going to my safe space and he to his. That does make a difference. Also, I have had a few months to build up some reserves of strength.

He went back to the secrecy about how I felt about my body and my gender identity and that I had “blind-sided him”. I felt a bit irritated that we were back to that again, and I don’t know if I hid it: I certainly wasn’t going to have an argument over his birthday dinner.

I said that I only had a short head start over him about it – I had suppressed and fought my feelings for years – and wasn’t long after I could name what I felt that I told him about it. For him though, a key difference between our experiences is that I eventually felt hope and excitement over discovering myself. he only found fear and loneliness.

he said that whatever our relationship is going to be, it has to be based on equality and fairness. I wholeheartedly agree … but I find myself wondering whether we might have different ideas of what that means. For me, I need to be always open and honest, and have boundaries around acceptable behaviour.

I am very concerned that I may never be able to be fully open with him because he seems unable to deal with the facts of my life – especially my gender, sex, and sexuality. If they are difficult, talking about my making friends and finding playmates is completely out of the question.

As with Ambrosius, who describes himself as “discreet”, that means that I have to leave a part of myself “outside” when I come into his space. The same sort of thing might apply with my husband. As a result, with both these people, I can never be fully authentic – which is something I have fought hard to become. – and has not been without cost.

I felt sad that we were back having this unending conversation. Will he ever be able to move on? Or do I need to move on?

Fortunately, the conversation did move to lighter themes under his instigation. We talked about my dad, and how I’d fucked up by not telling him of my own trip to London a few weeks ago. The husband said that he should never have been put in the situation of having to handle my dad’s worries about me. I agree – ironically, the whole problem had been caused by my single-mindedly trying to prevent my husband being upset by my London trip.

The night was getting on, and it was a “school night” for me. I had to get back.

On balance, it was a good night – I was glad to see him and know that he was (mostly) OK.

I dropped him home, but was aware of a slight headache coming before bed. The first one in ages. Emotional strain can do that to me.

The next day I was in the office. There’d been a bit of a move around and I was in a different room and no longer by a window. Previously, it had just been me and my boss in an enormous room, and them in another enormous room, but the company had released the lease on my room so I now had to share. they were bloody noisy! And they insisted on having conversations across the room.

By the afternoon, this was becoming my first full-on migraine since the husband moved out at the start of August. Was it the room, or was it the night with my husband?

The next day the office noise was the same – as was the headache. So its not (always) my husband that causes my migraines!