It was early July, and we were on our way home after a botched date night. My spouse’s mood was off, once again; this chronic melancholy, this little Eeyore cloud hanging over our lives and saturating everything in miserable little droplets. It happened all the time.

The unhappiness had put a wedge between us for years. I, the happy, bubbly, social person on one side; my partner, the quiet, brooding, isolating one. And on those rare nights we could sneak out for a meal or a drink, I would grow resentful when the Eeyore cloud starting pissing all over our parade.
“I wish you would tell me what’s going on with you,” I said as we drove home from the coffee shop.

“I can’t,” she replied.
“Enough of that. We’ve been together 22 years and you’ve been unhappy the whole time. Everyone can see it. The kids and I can feel it.”
“I know,” she admitted.
I sighed. “Is it me? Are you unhappy with me? With our family?”
“No, it’s not you. It’s not the kids. This predates all of you, trust me.”
“Look,” I said. “I’m tired of brushing this under the rug. I think it’s time for some honesty. Nothing will get better if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
“I can’t,” she insisted, staring straight ahead, hands firmly on the wheel.

I thought of potential big secrets and just started guessing.
“Are you gay?” I inquired. Hey, it happens, right? Maybe she wasn’t as into me as my ego wanted me to believe.
“No,” she said.
“OK.” And then I just threw it out there. “So, do you want to be a woman or something?”
Silence. And suddenly, I knew. But I had to ask again because I needed to hear the answer.

https://www.trendiee.com/confessions/my-husband-is-now-my-wife-and-our-marriage-has-never-been-better/