I spent last week on a wonderful ski trip with Bradley and 20+ members of his family. I passed three crucial tests:
1. I missed my spouse.
This sounds like a no-brainer and I knew that I would miss Jake. It was the longest we'd been a part in over a decade. However, Jake wanted confirmation that I actually still need zir* and that Bradley and I wouldn't default into a happy-hetero-normative-monogamish-twosome given the chance. I missed Jake worse every day (we wound up talking for two hours/day by the end of the week!), and Bradley missed zir too.
2. My boyfriend and I can spend a week together without driving each other crazy.
Bradley and I were practically joined at the hip for eight days, but we didn't get on each other's nerves one bit. Not even during a fifteen hour travel day following zero hours of sleep. We spent a lot of time gazing googley eyed and dreamily at each other while professing our love. Sappy but true.
3. I get along with my boyfriend's family.
I adore Bradley's whole huge boisterous family. I was grateful that they warmly welcomed me, even though I'm a (gasp!) married woman. Bradley had given everyone the scoop on Jake's transition and our poly lifestyle, so I could show up and be myself without worrying about hiding anything. Bradley was the one who brought up Jake in almost every conversation.
It's official: This triad is solid!
*I am experimenting with gender neutral pronouns, because I don't know what to call my spouse anymore and ze hasn't expressed a preference. It was simple when Jake was either presenting as a man or a woman, but now ze is almost perfectly between genders: a woman hormonally, wearing guy-ish clothes, with androgynous hair and makeup. Ze prefers going by Jake, unless ze is super femmed out or hanging out with a specific group of trans friends who know her as Jasmine. It would be easy enough to stick with "him, my husband" when using the name Jake, but that just feels wrong now. She is my wife.