Three years ago, I thought my family was a pretty stereotypical American family: mom, dad, cute little baby. Three years ago, a single conversation with my spouse started us on a journey that changed that perception into one of wonderment at the dynamic beauty of life. While most of you reading this can guess where that conversation ultimately ended, you probably don’t know that it actually began with self discovery and exploring my own sexual identity.

Growing up, I just never really cared about sexual attraction. Sure, I thought about dating. The relational aspect was appealing, but conservative Christian culture made it pretty easy to steer clear. I was the poster child for I Kissed Dating Goodbye. I hated being asked who my celebrity crush was, because I never had any. The advice I received was, “In college, plan to meet your bridesmaids, not your groom.”

I did just that at Taylor. I threw myself into developing friends, learning, exploring the world, and growing in faith. During my junior year, in the midst of an emotional semester, a person in my dorm started flirting with me. I let my guard down and became emotionally invested in this potential relationship. After a few months of that, I expressed that we needed to have a talk. I had to know if this was going to develop into something long-term or if I should step back before I got hurt. We started dating. Less than a year later we were engaged, and it wasn’t long until I married the love of my life. I loved being able to tell the world I had a fiancé and, now, that I have a spouse.

Our marriage continued to grow deeper and deeper. When Lily told me soon after our first anniversary that she didn’t believe in God anymore, I was initially crushed but also liberated. I grieved over the dreams I had for our marriage and our children, letting go of what may never be. But at the same time, her honesty in sharing something so personal made me love her even more than I thought possible. Her honesty gave me permission to have my own doubts and ask my own questions which led me to developing my faith and understanding of God in a way I don’t think anything else could have.

Fast forward to almost three years ago. One night, she randomly asked me about my sexuality. After some back and forth questions and discussion, we came to the conclusion that asexual may be an appropriate label for me. In care you are unfamiliar with that term, Wikipedia says:

Asexuality is the lack of sexual attraction to others, or low or absent interest in or desire for sexual activity. It may be considered a sexual orientation or the lack thereof.

This definition wasn’t perfect but kinda ok.

The next day, she told me she was a “she”. And maybe surprisingly, this news was easier to take than our deconversion conversation from four years prior. I cared way more at the time what people would think. And actually, her choice to change her name was the part I grieved the most. I loved having matching names. It was cheesy and perfect. But really, it doesn’t matter. What mattered was being married to an authentic person. I never want to wonder if my spouse is pretending to be someone that I or others expect. I want authenticity. I can’t connect with an act.

I encouraged her to meet with a gender therapist and told her I was with her whichever gender she chose to present. She decided to wait. So, we put this on the back burner. I confided in a few friends. Occasionally, I would ask as question about being transgender as it came up. But mostly, I used this time to start changing the way I approached our roles in our marriage and as parents.

Then last year, I randomly asked where things were at, and she surprised me with saying she was ready to see a gender therapist. My mind went into overdrive. This is real, this is happening. I reached out to a wider circle of friends, online groups, and pastors for support, advice, and encouragement. I wanted to be centered and healthy before life had a chance to spin out of control. I read something like two dozen books and listened to countless podcasts in the last six months. Throughout all my reading, the same question kept cropping up in my mind, “What does this make me?” Nothing really answered that. I didn’t fit into any traditional molds.

Who am I? I still feel like myself even though I have a wife. I haven’t really changed. Lots of well-meaning friends and family have expressed concern about my happiness during this transition. They are concerned that I am getting lost or will be unsatisfied in this marriage with new dynamics. They even ask, “So does this make you a lesbian?” And so, I asked myself, does having a wife make me a lesbian? And my answer was “no”. I was pretty confident I wasn’t straight but “lesbian” made me uneasy.  I tried on the labels bisexual or pansexual and still they didn’t seem right. Mostly, I just put finding my label on the back burner. It didn’t really matter. I just wanted one so that I knew why I was still happy. So I could more easily tell others where I fit. But I could still thrive without a label because I like myself. I didn’t need the label to fulfill me.

Which brings me to today (or more truthfully last week since it’s taken a week to finish this post) – I have a cold and can’t sleep well, so I laid in bed and thought. I’m not sure what brought this back to the forefront of my mind but I wanted to finally figure out my label. I reached out to a friend and asked if she could help me. She said I didn’t need a label but she would be happy to help if I wanted to find the one that fit. I did some casual internet searching and came across a list of some lesser-known sexuality labels, one of which was Demisexual:

Sexually attracted to someone based on a strong emotional connection.

My heart skipped a beat and my insides started to sing “That is me!!!!!”. As I relate this, my brain chides me for being so happy about a silly label but it is true. That is how this realization has made me feel. I feel giddy and want to tell the whole world. So I shared my new label with the friend mentioned earlier and she asked some follow-up questions. Those questions made me reflect on how Lily and I began moving from being friends to dating and how her personal revelations influenced our relationship. Those questions made the label feel like my perfectly fitting one-of-a-kind wedding dress.

My exploration into discovering and naming my own sexuality has shown me how beautiful and vibrant humankind can be when people are free to express their true form. People more easily love others when they love themselves.

I love that I am not straight. I don’t have to compromise the way I love to fully love and support my wife. I thank God that he made me the way he did. I am perfectly suited to be married to a trans women. My position reminds me of Mordecai’s words to Esther, “Who’s to say?- you many have come into the royal court for just this moment?”

This is my moment – to love as God has called me to love and as Jesus has shown me to love – to love my wife, to love my kids, to love those who are walking along side of us as our allies, and to love those who struggle to understand this transition.

I am here in this moment and I choose love.