Josh And Gail (Part 2) free porn video

My eyes were closed but I was not sleeping. I just couldn't fall over. As with so many nights over the past few months, I knew that Josh was still awake even though we had been in bed for some time now. Getting to sleep had never been a problem for either myself or Josh. Even when times were much harder than they are now, our bed was a place of intimacy, relaxation and rest. The problems of the day were put behind us and we recouped to face another day. But recently, that was not the case for Josh and thereby, by association, me. It seemed an eternity before one or other of us would finally drift to sleep. And he was restless too. It was obvious something was bothering him, but any questioning just brought the same answer. "I don't know what it is. I'm just having trouble falling over these days. I'm sorry, I don't mean to keep you awake." I tried to think of a reason for his sleeplessness, but couldn't honestly come up with a definitive answer. I reasoned that our home life was going better than at any time in our married life. For the first time we were on solid financial ground. We had our own home of which we were pretty proud, bills were able to be paid promptly and without any hardship, and we could even afford some luxuries. Cassie our daughter, was doing well at school, getting good grades and enjoying a good social life, with plenty of pals both male and female. Our marriage seemed to me to be as strong, if not stronger, than the day we wed. I had no doubt that Josh loved me and I adored him. True, there had been a hiccup recently in the intimacy side of our relationship. We had not had sex for sometime and this did seem to overlap with the beginning of his sleep problem, but we had tried to talk this out and I'd done my best to reassure him that it wasn't something to fret over. I loved him, he loved me, and that was all that was important. Away from the bed, he continued to show me the same affection he always had. We'd cuddle frequently, exchange kisses. I knew he was happy in my company. So I couldn't figure it out. Was the lack of intimacy and the sleeplessness connected? Was one because of the other, or were they entirely unconnected and there was possibly no real reason that could be attached to either problem. "Did you remember to put the light out in the fish tank?" I knew the answer already as I'd seen Josh put the light off myself, but it was my way of letting him know that I was still awake. If he needed to talk I was still there for him. "Yes" he replied softly, and then he resumed his restless effort to gain the sleep he was finding so difficult to achieve. Tomorrow was Sunday, with the promise of a long lie-in, so there was even more reason to be relaxed. But it looked like tonight was going to be the same as many other nights had been in recent months. Or so I thought! A few minutes passed and I had almost drifted off to sleep, when he turned on his back and whispered, "Can I talk to you about something? It's important." "What?" I asked half asleep, but I heard from the tone of Josh's voice that something was wrong. Instinctively, I felt I was about to find out the reason for his recent unrest. "Sure," I replied. I waited for a minute or so and still Josh did not begin to speak. I sensed he was having trouble putting into words what he was trying to tell me, and I immediately began to feel a sense of apprehension. A knot began to form in my stomach. We had never had a problem talking about anything before and now Josh was finding it impossible to speak. I was suddenly scared. I sensed that whatever it was, it was going to be something big. Something life changing. I tried to help him. "What is it Josh? Just spit it out." I waited a few more seconds, then Josh spoke softly. "This is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. I don't know if I'm doing the right thing, but it's something I have to do. I don't want to spoil both our lives, but I need to tell you. Please believe me though, above all, I really love you with all my heart. You and Cassie are my world." Tears started to roll down my cheeks. Was he leaving me? Was there someone else? "Please Josh, just tell me what is." I heard Josh take several deep breaths and an eternity seemed to pass before he spoke. He was very quiet, barely audible, almost as if he was afraid to speak. "All my life, ever since I've been old enough to remember, I've known something is not right with me, something different." He paused yet again, took another breath and went on. "The thing is I've struggled with my gender all my life." I heard the words, but my mind couldn't compute the meaning of the sentence. I played it over again in my head but I still couldn't understand what Josh was trying to say to me. But before I could make any sense of Josh's words, he continued. "You see, I've always felt, no known, that I've was born in the wrong body. Inside me, in my mind and soul, I've always known, even when I was just a child, that I'm female. I am the proverbial woman trapped in a man's body. Inside me, beneath my male exterior, I am, and always have been a woman, with a feminine spirit and soul, which I've spent my life suppressing. It's something I'm one hundred per cent sure of. I've felt like, and wanted to be, a woman, all my life." Then there was silence. Again, what Josh was saying didn't seem to make any sense, but as his words slowly began to take shape in me senses, I felt a numbness invade my body. My thoughts began to run wild. What are you telling me? Are you telling me what I think you're telling me? You think you're a woman? That's ridiculous! You're a man, my husband. This is crazy. We've been married for sixteen years. We have a child. How can you possibly be a woman? I'm not married to a woman! Don't be silly! But at the same time as I was thinking how ridiculous this was, flickering at the edges of my thoughts, not really forming coherently, but there all the same, came memories of magazine articles and televisions programmes I'd read and seen of married men who after years of marriage had undergone sex change surgery and had become women. These men were transgendered, they were transsexuals! Was this what was really happening to me, to US, right now? It couldn't be. Not to me. No to us. I suddenly had the sensation that I was falling, that the bottom had just fallen out of my life. The tears began to flow more freely. But I came back to my senses. And strangely, for a few seconds only, a sense of relief swept over me. Without thinking about it, I suppose my two biggest fears were that Josh had been about to tell me that he was seriously ill, or that he was having an affair and was about to leave me. At least this was not the case. And that at least was a relief. Maybe what he was telling me was just something that needed some discussion to straighten it out. Maybe there was something in what Josh was saying that I was not understanding or interpreting correctly. We just needed to talk to sort this out. Surely. I turned onto my back and felt the tears roll from the corner of my eyes, down my cheeks and onto the pillow. I have no idea of how much time had passed since Josh had spoken, but I instinctively knew he was giving me time to digest what he had said. I was thinking, surely this couldn't be true. "All your life? Are you telling me that during all your childhood and adult life, all our married life, that you've felt this way and I've just haven't noticed that I'm living with a woman? That's not possible, you're Josh, my husband." "You get really good at hiding it, in fact, you even hide it from yourself. That's what I've been doing. You bury it deep, try and blank it out and put on a male act for all the world. But all the time its there, every second of every day." My world seemed to be crumbling around me and I was aware that both our lives had just veered off in an unexpected, new, direction. The cosy life we had made for ourselves, and the future beyond, appeared to have irrevocably altered direction in the space of just a couple of minutes. Also, the implication of what Josh had just said struck home. "An act? Do you mean that the person I fell in love with, married and have loved ever since, was, is, only putting on an act. A show for the rest of the world? That makes you, me, our marriage a sham. It's not been based on honesty, truth. It's all been just an ACT for you." I could see that this was an interpretation of his explanation that Josh had not wanted or expected me to take. I watched as tears began to flow from his eyes also. "No, no, please, that's not the case. Please don't think that. Our marriage was, and is, based on love. And I have always loved you. And still do. More than ever. That's why this is the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I don't ever want to do anything to destroy our love. But I can't go on living this lie. Keeping this from you. We share everything in life , but I've been holding this back from you. I couldn't live with the fact that there is this one huge secret I am keeping from you. I know that's wrong. You deserve to know." "Deserve to know? Do you not think I deserved to know this sixteen years ago?" "Yes, yes, you did. What can I say? I should have told you, but I guess I thought that would have been the end of US. I wanted us to be together." At this stage I was not ready to hear such a neat, easy, answer. I couldn't get my head around this scenario. If, as Josh was telling me he had these feeling from when he was a little boy, if he felt female, like a woman, why would he have wanted to marry me, another woman? Was it just because that Cassie was on the way that he did the "right thing"? And why did we sleep together, have sex, if this was the way he really felt? Even Cassie's existence now seemed strangely unexplained and that was a very unsettling feeling. "But why would you have wanted us to be together if that was how you felt? I can't figure that out." "Because I was attracted to you. I don't know if I can explain it properly. When we got together I was pretty mixed up. Yes, I had these feelings, this understanding that I was female inside, but I liked girls too. I'd be lying to you if I said I liked them in the exact same manner as I imagine other boys did because I think their desires are based round a strong sexual attraction. I don't know for sure because I was never one of those boys, but it wasn't like that for me. I liked everything about girls and in lots of different ways. I preferred being in their company to boys. I thought they were by far the nicest sex, the nicest to be with and spend time with. And yes, I suppose I admired their femininity. And not in a male way. Being with and around girls always seemed right for me. And when you came into my life, I found it easy to fall in love with you. Maybe not entirely in a way that's usual for most men, but honestly, just as real for me. When we married I was in love with you. I still am. I know there are some men out there who get married to give them legitimacy, who do it to hide from the world who they really are. Some gay men, some transsexuals, yes. But I swear that wasn't in my mind. Also, when we got married, although I said I knew I was female inside, there was still a part of me saying "THIS" can be beaten. A part of me that said "THIS" can be buried deep enough so that it won't affect my life. I always thought I was going to beat "IT". To be honest, I think that's the case for many of the "men" in my position. I'm not making excuses, but I don't think marriage is undertaken in anything but love and good faith for most transsexuals. They just underestimate the strength and power of this feeling and overestimate their ability to keep it in check. And then they find themselves in a position where it overwhelms them. That it can't be beaten. That's what's happened to me." For the first time the words "transsexual" and "gay" had entered the conversation, and up until that point I hadn't put Josh's revelations and these words together, but now they were connected in my mind, it started to bring home the reality of what Josh was actually trying to tell me. Immediately, it became obvious that there was two questions that had to be asked of Josh. The first question seemed to have an obvious answer considering what Josh had just revealed, but I had to ask it. I had to hear the words from his mouth. With a great deal of trepidation, I asked him the first of two questions that no wife ever wishes to ask of her husband. "Josh, are you telling me the you're a transsexual?" Josh sighed, "Yes." "Say it. Say the word. I need to hear you say the word." "I'm a transsexual. I'm transgendered. Call it what you want." My heart missed a beat. My husband, my MAN, had just actually stated he was a transsexual. To hear the man in your life, the man you have invested all your love in for the past sixteen years, tell you that he deeply identified himself as being female, was almost impossible to take in. I heard the words, even believed the words, but I couldn't bring myself to realise the impact they were going to make in my life. Without further analysis, I asked him the second question, "Josh, are you gay?" "No, I'm not." Josh's reply seemed certain. "I'm not sexually attracted to men." I was not convinced. In my mind it did not make sense, if what he was saying was true, if Josh was female, that there would be no attraction to men. And his second statement about not being sexually attracted to men, was somehow at odds with the plain denial he stated first. He put an accent on the word attracted, and I couldn't work out what that meant. I persevered with my original question. "But surely if you feel so strongly that you are a woman, it's only natural that you would be attracted to men?" Josh took a deep breath. "It isn't like that for me. I can only say how I felt and still feel. Please, don't confuse gender with sexual preference. Not everything is straightforward black and white. There are loads of shades of grey in between. If you think about it, with that logic, it would mean all gay men would want to be women and all gay women would want to be men. To be the opposite sex from the one they are sexually attracted to. And that's plainly not the case. Most, I would say, are perfectly happy with their gender. Sexual preference and gender aren't definitely connected by parallel lines. It's not as straightforward as that. But, please believe me, whatever I feel about my gender, I love you." I listened to what Josh told me, and try to reconcile his words with how I was feeling at that moment. Gender and sexual preference was not something I'd previously given any great thought about, but now, I had to admit that there was a certain logic behind his answer. I began to understand that it was perhaps possible to have the situation that Josh was describing. But I needed more assurance. There was something I needed to know. "Josh, have you ever had sex with a man?" "Honestly, Gail, the answer is no." "Then what did you mean when you said you weren't attracted to men? You said that in a way, I don't know, that's left me confused. There was something in the way you said it. As if their was some doubt in your mind." "I don't know how to best explain. I don't expect this to make any sense to you, but, no, I'm not physically attracted to other men, but I do feel a longing to experience sex as a female. With a female body. I feel as if that is the right thing for me. That I should be the one to give, to be entered. I know that sounds stupid, but it's the way I feel. I think it might be something to do with the feeling that having sex as a woman, for me, would be a vindication, proof if you want, of my femininity, my femaleness, rather than the emotional attachment that a natural born woman might attach to having sex. I'm not really clear in my own head about this, so I don't think I'll be making much sense to you." This further revelation was another hammer blow to my senses. Now, not only was I unsure of the foundations that our marriage was based on, I also wondered if our sex life had all been built on pretence. I knew that both Josh and I were inexperienced when we had got together. We had been each others first sexual partner and had remained faithful to each other ever since. And obviously, we remained pretty green on sexual matters. And looking back on our sex life now, I suppose it was pretty routine and unadventurous. In fact we had been married some years before we stumbled, almost by accident, on a manual method of giving me an orgasm. I was so shocked and surprised, that first time, that I cried emotionally for about fifteen minutes after I came. I didn't know that feeling existed. I enjoyed our sex life, but it wasn't that important for me. Love and affection meant more to me and in that department I felt totally happy. But now I wondered if it had all been just acting from Josh. When we were making love was Josh thinking that he should be in my place. The receiver, not the giver. What was going on in his mind at a time when I thought that he was expressing his love for me? Was this the explanation for the lack of a sex life we were going through at that point? If so, it would seem that he could no longer FORCE himself to have sex with me. Our previous sex life had just been pretence. The thought that this could be the case made me cry uncontrollably. Through my tears I asked Josh. "What about us Josh? What about our sex life? Has all that been just a performance from you? A chore? Something you had to do but no longer can be bothered? Is that why were not having sex just now?" The tears began to flow much stronger for Josh too. "No. Honestly. It's not like that. That's the bleakest way of looking at it. Please, let me try to explain. You've got to believe me, I love you, I love you, I love you, I really do. Loving you has never been, never will be, a chore. I've always been, and still am, attracted to you and since I have a male body it responded in the way that male bodies do. That was the best way for us to be intimate with each other. To show love and affection. But mentally I've never been comfortable with that. I'm using a part of my body that I've never ever wanted, felt shouldn't be there. But it was the part that allowed me to make love to you. I used what I had. And I did want to make love to you. But as I have become more and more accepting of who I really am, of being female, I'm finding it very difficult to overcome my feeling that I'm doing something that's not right for me. Not right for a woman. Try to imagine that you Gail, being the woman you are, feeling in every way feminine, have a penis. And one that responds like any other. It would be an abhorrence to you and that's what my penis has become to me. I think I've mentally set up a block to stop it responding. So I can't use it for sex. I'm not getting aroused, cause that's a male thing. I've become disgusted with my male arousal. It's definitely not your fault. It's mine. That's why we haven't had sex for a while. It's not that I don't love, please believe me, It's just I think I've subconsciously turned off the male libido in me, cause it wasn't right for me. If there was any other way we could be intimate I would still love that to happen. But what happens in bed is not a reflection of how much I love you. You're my soul mate. His assurance of his love for me sounded real and genuine and I when I thought of how Josh had behaved towards me throughout our marriage, his thoughtfulness and caring towards me, I really had few doubts that Josh did love me. In HIS WAY. But was HIS WAY the way it should be in a marriage. Had I wasted sixteen years of my life not being with a REAL MAN, who would love me in the way a REAL MAN would? Why hadn't he been honest with me? And I could have made my choice of what I wanted to do with my life. Part of me felt I had been robbed of sixteen years of my life, living a lie. I could have made my life with a REAL MAN. It would seem that I had never, ever, experienced sexual intercourse with a REAL MAN. What would that be like. Would that have different, better, than I have experienced with Josh. But another part of me thought of the times we had spent together and the memories we had made together, almost all of which were good and happy, and quickly realised that whatever had happened , was happening, or would happen in the future, the sixteen years was NOT wasted. To think otherwise would be soul destroying. Trying to absorb all the that had happened in the last few minutes, in such a short time, had made my head spin. I was trying to make sense of what Josh was telling me, to take it in, to process it, and meanwhile a hundred questions were forming in my head, all demanding answers or explanations. All I could do was to ask the question that had seemed to force itself to the head of the queue. There was no rhyme or reason. I just had so many questions that it was impossible to put them in any order. But I tried to pick one that might help me get to the core of Josh's condition. "Tell me what you mean when you say that know that you are a woman inside. That you knew even when you were just a boy. How could you know that? How did that show up? Obviously, it's hard for me, a woman, to see how a young boy could feel the same way I did when I was a girl. You weren't a girl after all! How could you know what being a girl felt like?" "But that's exactly it. No, I wasn't in a girl's body, but stretch your imagination and try and believe it is possible to have a girl's mind and soul in a boy's body. That's how I felt. How did it show up? I wasn't interested in any of the things that interested other boys. I wasn't into sports, cars, rough and tumble games, anything like that. No, I wasn't in a girl's body, so maybe your right to have doubts that I could ever experience things in the same way that a genetically born girl could, but I personally believe , one hundred per cent, I did feel the same way, want the same things, as girls of my age. I just didn't have the body to go with how I felt. I longed desperately, to be able to wear the pretty clothes that they got to wear, especially the lovely dresses. I was envious of the way they were able to wear their hair. The styles were prettier than the horrible way a boy had to wear his hair. They could let their hair grow and decorate their style with bright ribbons and clasps. I hated that my hair was short. I even preferred their toys. Their games, even at that age, seemed to be about relationships and communication, of make believe, whereas the boy' games were more about competition. But most of all, I just felt that I should be one of them. Be one of their group. To relate with other girls as a girl. That was the way I should be. I knew it for certain. I knew I should have been born a girl. I was sad and unhappy that I hadn't been. I can't know for sure, but I'm pretty certain that I felt the same things most young girls did. I just couldn't express that!" "Didn't anyone notice this? What about your gran? Surely she must have noticed something wasn't right?" "I remember when I was in my teens, getting a bit older, gran telling me that when I was very young I would say some things that would surprise her. Comments that she didn't expect to hear from a little boy. I guess I was just expressing myself without realising I was going against "the norm". I didn't know I was saying things a boy wasn't expected to say. About pretty dresses and hair etcetera. The way gran related the story to me, I guess that she hadn't thought there was any significance in the things I said when I was younger. Just a little boy, saying quaint things. And once I got a little older, say primary school, I already understood that I couldn't show the way I felt. I didn't need to be told that. It's something you come to realise on your own, even when you're very young. I knew, even then, that a little boy had to try and be a boy even if that was not the way he felt. As far as I was concerned, I was the only boy in the whole wide world who had these feelings. It didn't dawn on me that perhaps there were other boys who felt this way. I thought this was something to keep to yourself. And as I got a little older, it was something to be embarrassed about, something no one else would or should ever know. Tell anyone you knew you were a girl inside? Ridiculous. Like I said, you learn to put on an act. Hide your true feelings, so people don't get to see the real you. That's probably why nobody noticed." It's hard to put into words what I was feeling, listening to Josh, who, until a just a short while ago, I had thought of as my strong, masculine husband, admit to such feelings. Sure, I was always aware he wasn't a "lad's lad," but it had never entered my head to think that he was anything other than a quiet, home loving man. If all this were true, how could I have missed it completely? Was I stupid? I looked at Josh and even in the dark could see his tears fall, highlighted by the small amount of light that managed to filter into our bedroom. And for a fleet second I had my first, but not last, feeling of sadness for him. Most of me was upset and angry because he had lied and hidden this from me for so long, but a small part of me could already feel sympathy for someone who had carried such a burden for such a long time. But having heard him say phrases such as "pretty dresses" and "lovely hair," and saying them in such a feminine manner seemed strangely surreal. This was MY HUSBAND talking. But they were said with such naturalness, it was hard not to hear the woman's spirit behind them. To say I was having difficulty getting my head round what I was hearing, the situation I now found myself in, the muddle of doubts and questions in my head, would be a gross understatement. Was the person lying beside me in my bed really female, in spirit if not in body. I thought of the young Josh and wondered what it must have been like for him, to have felt this way? And for the first time it occurred to me that that someone in that position, in the position he was in even now, would look for ways to express themselves. I hadn't had the time or a clear enough mind, to realise that there would be actual, physical, consequences following on from Josh's revelation. The young Josh, the adult Josh, did he, and was he now, expressing himself in female form. I looked at Josh, and realised that in all probability, in my absence, he would be allowing himself to be the woman he felt himself to be. Vague notions of how he would do that, floated in my head, but as a defence mechanism, I managed to stop any of them forming into a concrete image. Picturing Josh as a female was, at that time, an impossibility. But I thought maybe I could cope if I asked about the young Josh. But I didn't really know the best way to phrase the question. I couldn't imagine how feeling transgendered would feel for a young boy. "What did you do, what were you able to do, when you were young? To help you cope. Feeling like you did, you must have tried or done something." There was a long silence, during which I sensed, but could not see, that Josh was staring at the ceiling, tears still flowing gently down his cheeks. I heard him breathing and appear to struggle to speak. I didn't speak again, I just waited for his response. Eventually he managed to talk to me again, although I could hear he was now crying strongly. "I suppose I'd have been about twelve before I tried anything. I used to watch gran go through her beauty routine. I would make conversation about anything at all, but all the time I'd really just want to see her make herself look pretty, and to observe and learn how she did it. I just loved watching and I suppose I was jealous to. I'd wish it was me. Eventually, because there was just the two of us, and gran would have to work, there were times when I was alone in the house and knew gran would not be home for some time. I started sneaking into her room and would stare, mesmerised at her dresser with all her beauty products lined up in front of the mirror and in the dresser drawers. I'd look at all the different products there, foundations, face powders, eye makeup compacts of varying shades and containing little applicators, mascara, lipsticks. They were all things I knew and felt should be a part of my life. I knew girls of my age were beginning to experiment with makeup and I longed to do the same. I was desperate to try and use gran's makeup but I was scared that she would find out if I did. That she would notice that her makeup had been used or disturbed. But something else that always fascinated me was hair. I loved watching my gran do her hair especially when she set it with rollers. That was always something that was just so beautiful and feminine to me. And since, through my constant complaining about getting my hair cut, she had let me grow my hair reasonably long, I would dream of her setting mine too. But it was never something I would have ever dared to ask. A young boy asking for rollers in his hair? I'm petty sure she wouldn't have understood that! But I knew where she kept the rollers and I didn't see any way that gran would find out if I used them, so, eventually, I started trying to set my hair with her rollers. I wasn't very good at first , but I soon became quite proficient. I loved the feel and the sight of my hair in rollers. It was the first time I was able to do something that was distinctly feminine and girly to myself. It helped make me feel like a real girl. After a while I couldn't stop myself using a little bit of her lipstick and maybe a tiny bit of eye makeup, but like I said I was scared that she would notice her stuff had been used. " "Surely your gran would have noticed that you were showing more than a passing interest in what she was doing? Surely when you add that to the comments she said you used to say, growing your hair, she must have put two and two together?" "Well I suppose you could still ask her, but I really don't know what she thought. You're looking at the things I said and did with the benefit of hindsight. You've got to remember there was only the two of us in the house so we were very close to each other. We spent a lot of time together, so she was used to me hanging around her. Besides, as far as she would have been concerned, all these things happened before I was about twelve, so she probably didn't take them too seriously. There was something else when I was a little older, but even then I'm not sure what she was thinking. Maybe she thought I might be destined to become gay. I don't know. From what I know, people, in similar situations, tend to join the dots of what they know and come to the "gay" conclusion, but for some reason, seldom arrive at the word, transsexual. For some reason, people have more of an awareness of sexual preference than gender preference problems. That anyone is the wrong sex is not something people seem to think is possible. They just don't look for that. And I suppose when I started seeing girls she just forgot any concerns she may have had." I listened to what Josh said and I suppose I understood that it was possible that his behaviour wouldn't necessarily make his "condition" obvious to his gran. Like Josh said, it's easy to put two and two together when you already know the answer is four. I tried to picture in my mind the young Josh attempting to feminise himself. I couldn't get it out of my head that this was my husband, my man , telling me such personal, feminine secrets. How is it possible for someone born male to feel this way? Is it really possible to have a female mind in a male body. I had heard or read about that phrase before. A female born in a male body. But until it impacts on your life it's only an interesting, but odd, story you've read about in a magazine. But here it was in my life. My husband was lying beside me, crying, and admitting to having just those feelings. Even then, despite my feelings of having been deceived by Josh, I understood how terrifically hard it must be for any "man" to admit to feeling like that. To feel like a woman, to feel feminine! He was absolutely bearing his soul. Josh appeared to read my mind because he broke the silence. "This is so scary and so embarrassing. I know you must be angry and disgusted with me. I can't really imagine what you must be thinking. What you must be thinking OF ME. I'm just so embarrassed to be actually saying the things I'm saying. I've wanted to say them for so long. I can't believe I've finally come out and told you how I feel. It's so hard. I don't know if I've just killed our marriage. Please forgive me." There was silence again. Josh was waiting for me to say something. For the first time I knew I had respond to Josh, not by asking a question of him, about his "condition," but by giving him an awareness of how I felt towards him at that moment. I had to let him know MY feelings. And to be honest, I didn't know what they were. It was far too early to have gotten my thoughts and feelings into any sort of an order. When we went to bed that evening, I had the man I had loved all my life beside me, and now that had all changed. How, and in what way, I didn't have a clue. But definitely changed irrevocably. I certainly knew that I didn't NOT love him any more. I couldn't stop loving him even in the light of what I was hearing. But I needed to hold back on what I said till I had far more time to think things through. But I also knew I had to find something to say. I needed time. I lay in silence. I had to work out how I felt myself, before I could attempt to tell Josh. "Josh, at this moment, I can barely think straight. It's all too much to take in. I need time to get my head around this. To see what the consequences are and might be in the future. But I do know that what you are telling me does not make me hate you. That could never happen. We've been through too much together for it to end in hate. I'm not disgusted either. Shocked, surprised, let down, hurt, barely believing what I'm hearing. Yes. But not disgusted. I think you'll have to make do with that for now." Josh's only reply was a short, "That's fine." But I still had a million questions. "You said that there was something that happened at gran's when you were a little older. Something else that she may have picked up on and didn't. What was that?" There was another heavy sigh from Josh. There was obviously not one single sentence of this evening he was finding easy to say. He stumbled on. "Actually, it's something that still applies today. Something I've found both embarrassing AND comforting since my teens. It's something that, to be honest, I'm surprised you have never said anything about in all the years we've been together." I was mystified. There was nothing I could think of. Had I missed an obvious clue? "Ever since my early teens I've had boobs. Not maybe the biggest in the world, but for me they are definitely boobs. I'm amazed you've never said anything about them." To be honest I had noticed long ago at the beginning of our relationship, that Josh's chest was a bit "fleshy," and it had remained the same ever since, despite the fact that Josh's weight was always good. But what Josh chose to see as breasts, I looked on as moobs. Man boobs. We obviously saw them from a different perspective. I saw lots of men on holiday or on a beach who, for me, looked pretty much same. I didn't think they were any less of a man because of it, and I didn't think that of Josh. It wasn't a big deal for me and I chose not to bother saying anything about it. It didn't bother me. I told this to Josh. He went on to tell me that they appeared at puberty and that when his gran had found out about his problem, she had taken him to the doctor. The doctor had told him the condition was called gynecomastia and was quite common in boys his age and that it would likely disappear before he left his teens behind. But in Josh's case, it hadn't and so he tried to describe to me how he was affected by their arrival. " Well when they grew I didn't know what to think. On one hand I was really embarrassed. There are lots of time at that age you have to show your chest. Swimming, gym, etcetera, and I would do anything to avoid being seen bare-chested. I became pretty smart at finding ways and excuses to avoid taking off the top part of my clothing. Even in hot days I'd wear a shirt, preferably one with chest pockets as even with a t-shirt on I felt you could still see them. The pockets help disguise the lumps. On the other hand they were like my vindication. A sign that somewhere within me the girl was trying to get out. That I had something intrinsically feminine about my body. I've never been "hairy" so to me they were breasts. Something to back up what I knew to be true. That I really was a girl. They made living life as a boy awkward, but they gave me some feeling as to living life as a girl" "So back then you were able to play with your hair and a little bit of makeup. Anything else? What about clothes? Did you dress up?" "No. Not really. I didn't have access to any clothes and I would never have dared use anything of grans." I decided to ask the question that had come to the front of my mind, demanding an answer. "What about now? What's happening now? What's brought this to a head and brought us to where we are now? Are you dressing as a woman now? When I'm not here." I felt this was a question that would get me closest to finding out where we stood right now. He'd told me about Josh in childhood, but I needed to know what was happening at this moment. How he really felt right now. What was he doing? What did he want? "Yes. But only just recently. I've tried my best to keep my feelings under control, but I can't any longer. I've always felt the same. That's never changed. But it's only recently that I've been doing something about it. I've been dressing again. When you've been a work, I try to spend as much time as possible, as a woman, as the real me!" I heard what Josh said, but strangely the notion, the biggest concern that came into my mind, was not so much the revelation that he was dressing, it was the sudden idea that he might be using my things. MY CLOTHES, MY MAKEUP. What about lingerie? Was he wearing mine? I have to say that at this early stage of trying to come to terms with all that I'd heard that night, that was not something I wanted an affirmative answer to. To try and allay my fears I asked Josh the question directly. I know there was a tone of accusation in my voice. "And are you using my things to do that? My clothes, my makeup?" There followed a long silence which I instantly took as an admission from Josh that this was what he had been doing. For the first time I felt beginnings of real anger within me. This was an emotion I had had felt so seldom during our marriage, that a strange sadness accompanied the anger. I was sad that I was angry at him. I almost felt sorry that I was angry with him. But I was angry. Clothes, makeup, are personal things, not to be shared. Even though he was the person in the whole wide world closest to me, I felt betrayed and violated. I was just about to let him know how I felt about this abuse, when he spoke. "I'd like to say no, but considering what I'm telling just now, it's best that I be honest. Only once. The very first time I'd dressed up, if you want to call it that, I used one of your bras. That's the only item of clothing and the only time that happened. Honestly." Bras? He'd used one of my bras? This night was a night for so many firsts. I was just trying to acknowledge the CONCEPT of Josh's dressing up in my own mind, when I had to face the reality. My Josh, my husband, had been wearing a bra. My bra. That most feminine of garments. A garment designed solely for females, to support a most feminine part of the female body. A piece of lingerie that helps a woman feel pretty and womanly. And my Josh had been wearing one. MINE. I think the stunning realisation that Josh had been wearing a bra, this further evidence of his feminine feelings, somehow blunted my anger that it had been MY bra. The fact we were talking about a bra at all was sufficient to be taking in. Before I could react, Josh continued. "After that, when I realised I couldn't stop, didn't want to stop, I got some things of my own. I felt so guilty that I had used something of yours." "How did you manage that?" "On the internet. You can get buy anything you want there." "So you have clothes, makeup, shoes , and such, hidden somewhere in the house?" "Yes. I'm sorry but I have. But it's not just the dressing thing. I have a strong need to socialise, to interact with other people, to be accepted, as female. I need people to see me as I really am. I've come to accept the real me. I want other people to do the same. All my life I've been fighting a battle, trying to keep this need to be female submerged. Way down below the surface. I've been trying to make my way in life as a man. It was always there but I did my best to fight it. I love you, I love Cassie, I love my family and I wanted to do my best for us all. But in the last few months I realise I've lost the battle. I can't fight it anymore. I didn't want this to be happening because I realise it's going to affect what we have now. I don't know how, but it obviously will. I don't want that, but I can't go on like this. Being able to carry out their lives in the gender they have been born, is something ninety nine per cent of people do without a seconds thought. It's fundamental. But imagine you're asked to live out your life in a body that your mind, your soul, says is the exact opposite of what you really are. It makes life impossible, not to have that connection of mind and body. I've accepted, one hundred per cent, who and what I am. I may have this body, but I know I AM female in mind and soul if not in body. If that makes me transsexual, transgendered, call it what you may, that's what I am. I've got to the point where I had to tell you. Yes, you should've known before, and I'm truly sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I hope you can forgive me. I hope you can continue to love me, but I'll understand if that's not possible for you." For the first time that night, I had the slightest feeling, the slightest hint of acceptance on my part, that lying beside me, was not a deluded man who thinks he's a woman, but someone who was, perhaps, unfortunately in the wrong body. Through all my emotions that I was feeling about our relationship, the anger, the hurt, the disappointment, the betrayal, the sadness, came another kind of sadness. A sadness for Josh. Despite everything I felt that I had maybe lost or had put in doubt, I couldn't help but feel for him. To have carried this burden for so long. I tried to imagine the mental battle he had fought that had brought him to this point, and how Josh was feeling now. I knew this "situation" would have to be resolved. We were now a point where it would be impossible to come to a halt or put things on hold. Josh had put into motion a "situation" that now had forward momentum. More words were going to have to spoken, actions were going to have to be taken, and no matter what things would never be the same again. I didn't no what life held for me, for us, in the future, but I knew everything had just changed. I wondered if Josh had "a plan," some way ahead that he had already mapped out in his own mind. "Where do we go from here, Josh? This is something you've obviously had time to think about. You must have some plan in mind. Some idea of what to do next. Some things you want, or need, to happen. You knew this couldn't end here. What do we do next?" "I don't know. I suppose it all depends on you." "That sounds like emotional blackmail Josh." "I know that. I know that what I've just done is an incredibly selfish thing. That's the trouble with this situation. Most times the only person that stands to gain from revealing themselves as transsexual, is the transsexual person themselves. Everyone else is usually a loser. True, I could lose you. I may already have done so. But you and Cassie, stand to gain nothing, lose everything, while I perhaps gain some degree of happiness at your expense. It's impossible for me to justify what I've just done, I can only say I had to do it. I know that's not fair." "But what you want is to be able to live your life as a female? What you want is to change sex, to have an operation to allow you live as a woman and have a female body. That's right?" "Yes." "But still be with me?" "Yes. That's what I want. But I wont do anything that breaks us up. If we survive tonight, but you can't live with me transitioning, I won't do it. The only thing that means more to me than transitioning, is you and Cassie." "So I'm left to decide if you can go ahead and do this thing, this transitioning, or stop you, and leave you troubled and unhappy. That doesn't sound like much of a choice. You've backed me into a corner. Like you said, a lose, lose situation." "The only thing I can say is, that if I went ahead and transitioned, maybe it would be possible, and I now this is a big ask, that you could still love me. I hope there would still be something in me that you loved, even if I was physically different. But I know that's a lot to expect or hope for." "And what about Cassie? Have you thought of how this would affect her?" "I can't tell you how much. If it came to pass, I could only hope that we have brought up a girl without prejudices and with compassion in her heart. I think we have. Again I understand that I'm being selfish but I hope she could find it in her heart to still love me. She's old enough now to understand and I think children nowadays are far more knowledgeable and accepting than they were when I was her age. I'd need to hope so." "What of tomorrow, Josh? Like I said , where do we go, what do we do, tomorrow? This can't all be laid at my door." "You've listened to what I've had to say, and let me try and explain myself, and you're still lying in the bed beside me. I can't ask for anything more than that. It's more than I deserve or could expect from you. I would be happy if, in the next few days , you could just acknowledge that this "situation" exist. That I don't have to hide it from you. That would be enough for now. I think you'll need time to gather your thoughts. Do you want to leave it at that just now?" "Does this person, the other you, have a name?" Somewhat sheepishly Josh answered back, "Jennifer." The initial shock of Josh's revelation was now beginning to subside, and suddenly an immense tiredness overcame me. The tears had stopped for now and despite everything that had happened, I knew sleep beckoned. I was emotionally fatigued and could not process anything further that night. My eyes were heavy. "Yes, let's leave it at that." Josh leaned over a gave me a kiss on the cheek. I let him. He whispered, "I love you." I drifted off to sleep.