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I'm a queer woman partnered with a transgender man, but everyone assumes we're a heterosexual couple. On the surface, we’re the quintessential Brooklyn duo: We have tasteful tattoos and piercings, we shop at food co-ops, we attend spin class together, and we’re creative yet gainfully employed. But while this relationship afforded me the privilege of banal nonconformity, I lost a piece of myself when I got together with my once-gym buddy
