Calum and I were both keeping secrets from each other. What would happen when the truth finally emerged? By Beverley Reed, 28
As I tapped away on my screen, a message popped up that made me smile.
I like the way you talk. You seem light-hearted and silly, like me.
I replied and said: I am. I like to laugh.
Trouble was, I hadn’t done much of that recently.
I’d been with my fiancé Greg for seven years, but for the past two, things hadn’t been great between us.
We had a daughter, Lucy, and because of her I had decided to stick with our relationship, but I felt lonely.
As an escape, I’d found myself turning to the internet. I’d joined a chatroom and got talking to a man called Calum.
We had lots in common and I looked forward to our chats so, when he asked me if I was single, I lied and said I was.
I was worried if I told him the truth about Greg, he’d stop talking to me.
I was really only after a friend, but soon our chats turned flirty. We exchanged photos of ourselves, and
I felt a thrill when I saw him.
I wrote: Dark and handsome. Just my type.
He replied: You’re too good-looking to be single.
I thought: If only you knew.
I did tell Calum about Lucy, but I made out that I was a single mum.
But what I didn’t realise was that I wasn’t the only one keeping a secret.
A few weeks into our chats, we started phoning each other, and Calum made an announcement that knocked me for six.
‘I was born a woman,’ he told me. ‘I’m currently transitioning.’
‘Wow,’ I said. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’
‘I have feelings for you,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to deceive you.’
His revelation sent my head spinning. But when I thought about it, I realised something.
I told Calum: ‘It doesn’t change anything.’
‘Really?’ he said.
‘You’re a man,’ I told him.
‘It doesn’t matter what you were before.’
We agreed we should meet, but now Calum had revealed his secret, I was afraid I’d have to tell him mine.
Every time we set a date to meet, I backed out at the last minute.
It went on like that for nine months, until Calum said: ‘If you don’t want to meet, just tell me. But I can’t carry on having a relationship over the phone.’
I knew I was in danger of losing him forever, so I said: ‘OK, let’s do it.’
Two weeks later, I left my home in Cannock, Staffordshire, and travelled the 160 miles to Calum’s home in Swansea.
I’d told Greg I was going to Manchester to stay with a friend, and he agreed to look after Lucy.
I didn’t like lying but, by now, we were sleeping apart, and I thought the break might do us both good.
On the way to Calum’s, I was a nervous wreck, and when he opened his door I could see he was shaking too.
But as soon as we got talking, the nerves disappeared. It was as though we’d known each other for years, and it didn’t feel awkward at all.
'I need some space to think'
When the time came for me to leave the next day, I knew what I wanted.
Back at home, I sat Greg down and said: ‘This isn’t working.’
‘Don’t be like that,’ he said. ‘We can get through this.’
But I knew it was Calum I wanted.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘But I just don’t love you any more.’
He was upset but he accepted it.
He moved out, and a few weeks later I went to see Calum.
This time I stayed for three nights, and in the next weeks, we became a proper couple.
I introduced him to Lucy, and they got on like a house on fire. But my mum wasn’t a fan.
One day, when Calum was staying over, she said to me: ‘You do know Lucy will get bullied in school because of your selfishness.’
I knew she was referring to Calum transitioning.
‘Nobody will care, Mum,’
I said. ‘People are more open-minded these days.’
‘Don’t kid yourself,’ she said. ‘People will talk.’
Then she turned to Calum.
‘If it wasn’t for you, Beverley and Greg would still be together,’ she said.
My heart sank.
I still hadn’t told Calum about Greg.
Now he looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
‘Lucy’s dad,’ I said. ‘We were still together when I met you.’
His mouth dropped open and a look of bewilderment flashed across his face.
He stood up, and said: ‘I need to go.’
As I watched him vanish out of the door, I feared it would be the last I’d see of him.
I knew I should have told him my secret earlier, but I’d been afraid it would drive him away.
And it had.
I sent him a text, and said: I’m here when you want to speak.
He replied: I need some space to think.
Days went by and I felt miserable.
Then my phone rang, and Calum said: ‘I need you to tell me everything.’
I went to Swansea to talk it through.
‘I was in a relationship,’ I said, ‘but I wasn’t happy. That’s why I was online. When I met you, we just clicked. But I had to think of Lucy. Because of her, I couldn’t just turn my back on my relationship. I felt so torn.’
Calum listened, and then he said: ‘I understand.’
We agreed to put it behind us, and we moved into a place of our own with Lucy.
She was only six, so we explained our situation in a way she could understand.
I told her: ‘Calum wasn’t born in the right body. A long time ago he was a girl, but now he’s a boy.’
‘OK,’ she said.
As she grows older I know she will ask more questions, but we’re prepared for that.
We might not be the most conventional family in the world, but I wouldn’t have things any other way.
Calum told Take a Break: ‘When I told Beverley the truth about myself, my heart was pounding. I wouldn’t have been able to do it face to face.
‘When I found out about Greg it knocked me for six. I was really upset, and I thought that if she could lie about that, what else could she lie about.
‘But once we sat down and chatted, it made sense, and now we’ve overcome it, this is the happiest I’ve ever been. I never thought, as a trans person, I’d ever be this lucky in love.’
● Lucy and Greg’s names have been changed.