Okeydoke, little backstory.
Previously completely healthy, but probably not looking after myself as well as I should. Minor heart attack, easily fixed with a stent, but up from that though a serious infection, necrotizing fasciitis, really nasty situation trying to get that under control with the ticker meds making surgery very, very dangerous. Had That Conversation with my surgeons a couple of times, but their skill and a large amount of luck saw me through. 10 surgeries in one year. 1-star review, do not recommend.
Upshot is a colostomy. Too much nerve damage, so a reversal isn't an option. Relationship had broken down around that time, so finished up on my own, had moved away, looked like death warmed up even on a good day.
Did that for a year or so, joined this site. Got a good dose of perspective. You guys have my absolute admiration and respect, all the things you go through (technically I'm one of you guys, but I'm a noob and have not suffered the way the vast majority of the crew has).
As supportive as the site is, and the level of support and friendship that's available, I was in a bad place. On my own. With this THING. No woman was ever going to want to get involved with me, least of all be intimate. Didn't help that I'm mildly trans and look great in a pair of heels. And there's no point in being dishonest about any of the above, so I figured my love life was basically over. Forever.
Ugh. Dark thoughts. The worst kind. Had it all figured out, just waiting for the right time.
One Saturday afternoon, having gone for a good long hike around the hills in my area, feeling as lousy as can be, went onto Match. Just FYI, no affiliation. Seriously, none. That's just where I found myself after a couple of miserable post-hike beers. Other dating sites are available.
Had a couple of conversations with some nice ladies, we didn't click, life went on. Then I got chatting to this woman. My age or thereabouts. She had been through some stuff. She is smart, empathetic, and we click. I let her know right from the get-go about the dresses and heels, which doesn't faze her.
I hold back on the ostomy. We can only ever be friends. I can't handle the rejection, not now, when I'm at my absolute lowest. Friendship will be good.
First date follows. Friends. We really click. Fellow nerds. I like her, she likes me. DAMMIT.
I come clean, fully expecting the worst. She Googles stoma. Not a big deal. Turns out it's a much bigger deal to me than it is for her. She is less worried about it than I am. Because she's a cool gal and an excellent human being.
18 months on, we are in a thoroughly loving relationship, we spend most weekends either hiking miles in the mountains of northern Italy or around the countryside where I live, or thundering around the roads in the naughty V8 sports car that I bought with her full encouragement. She quite likes me in a dress too…
Aaaaanyway. Point is, the ostomy isn't a barrier to happiness. You absolutely can and will be happy once you meet the right person. Might take a little bit longer than you'd like, maybe a disappointment or two along the way, but don't give up. If you stick with it, you'll meet your person. And, because they know about your ostomy and don't care, because it's YOU that matters, that will hopefully become the basis of something beautiful.
Bestest,
Moi.
