An Ordinary Adult Sex LifeChapter 5 Start Again
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Transwife
A Diatribe
By Maryanne Peters
This is not a happy story. I like a happy stories, but this is not one
of those.
It started happily enough, from a point. Transgirl wrestles with her
problem, transgirl comes out, transgirl cause family commotion, transgirl
becomes accepted by family (all except one), transgirl transitions,
transgirl becomes accepted at work (all except one), transgirl saves
money, transgirl gets her dream anatomy, transgirl meets guy, transgirl
falls in love, transgirl marries her man ...
They all lived happily ever after - right? Wrong.
Transgirl's husband Nick, comes out as trans. That is right - one
evening I find Nick looking very sad and he says to me, "Darling I'm
sorry, but I have been deceiving you. I am transgender, just like you".
I sometimes think that emotions come in pairs - you know: Fear and
contempt, pity and disgust. So, I suppose it was sad sympathy and anger.
Sympathy because ... hey, I've been there. Who could understand better
than me? Anger because ... why didn't you tell me, bitch?
A while later I said as much, after I had listened to all the pain. I
said something like, "If you had told me earlier, we could have gone
through this together". I kept it as gentle as possible, despite the
rage. I even thought at the time that I meant it.
"I wanted you so much, but what I really wanted was to be you," Nick
said.
How do you respond to that?
"But I love you, I really do," he added. "I want us to be together
forever."
We cried together. But what he was really saying was that our
relationship was sort vicarious sex change. He thought that he could
avoid transition by somehow living it through me. And it turns out, he
is not alone. Nor am I alone as the wronged transwoman. I was reminded
that one of the pioneers of the transgender movement, April Ashley
married just this kind of man. At her divorce trial the judge observed:
"Mr. Corbett was apparently envious of his wife - she was everything he
wanted to be." And there are other examples of men who have married
transwomen to somehow fulfil a fantasy, only to discover that it was not
enough. They had to complete themselves.
He loved me, but I would not have married him had I known. I wanted a
man. That is what I thought I got. But he never was that, and he knew
it. He said that he thought marriage to me would fix things and allow
him to lead "a normal life". If he had told me that before we wed, I
would have told him just how wrong he was. You cannot run away from
this. This is real.
Now he was blandly informing me that I was to become a lesbian.
So many transgendered people who have been through what I have been
through said to me, "You don't need a man to be a woman", or "Be free of
the binary world - love the person". I am not saying they are wrong, but
I don't want to be a lesbian. All I have ever wanted was to be a woman
in the arms of a man.
I feel that so many transwomen find themselves with women because women
are understanding and supportive. Men are bastards, I know that. I was
one, remember. But I want one. Just like other women, who are always
hoping that they can knead the bastard of their man, and make him the
perfect partner. Women do it. Don't give up on men.
I don't want a tranny-lover either. I don't want a guy who wants a
shemale, but with settle for a chick with a dick, without the dick. Stay
away from my asshole, Dude. That is for shitting out of. I have a
pussy. Fashioned with men in mind. Designed to take a living, hot,
pulsating penis - not just plastic.
That was all Nicky could offer me after the operation. I sat beside her
as she regained consciousness. The moment that he eyes opened I could
see the excitement in those eyes that I had fallen for.
"I am a woman, at last," she said. There were tears of joy in her eyes.
I was crying too, but not for joy. I was thinking that she had taken
from us "our penis" - the one we shared for pleasure. Now we have only
plastic.
I married a man and ended up with a woman, but plenty do. Am I different
from any genetic woman who marries such a person? There are so many who
stand by the person they married. They still "love the person", don't
you know. As time passed Nicky wanted us to affirm our vows - as two
lesbians. I did not say no. I just put it off.
I remember I was putting rollers in Nicky's hair. She was giggling away.
I had to swat her hand away a few times she was so excited to have hair
done at home, and to touch it. I remember thinking how pathetic it was.
I knew that I needed a man. I hungered for the smell of one, for the
deep voiced whisper in my ear, the strong rough hands over my body, the
flesh inside me. In that moment I would have happily gone to a bar and
slutted myself. Instead I was brushing out her curls.
But then, by the best of fortunes, Alberto came along. Not at a bar, but
through work. We went out for coffee, then for lunch a few days later.
He was tall, and dark, hairy body, a little short of hair on top. So
much a man that I ached for it.
He asked me if I was attached, and I said, "I have no man in my life at
the moment". Which was absolutely true.
Before the evening date, I told him my story - everything. I said, "I am
only telling you this because I would like us to be friends, and friends
should not hold back secrets like this." It was not the first time I had
done this. Then you add, "I would understand completely if you don't
want to date me..."
To my surprise he did not storm off. He just looked at me in total
surprise, which is always flattering. He said, "I think you are
fascinating". Fascinating is good, right. Well it was. We fucked and I
gave him everything every guy could dream of. I know what that is.
It was like a second chance. But how do you break it to your spouse? I
just took him home. I prepared him for some emotional turmoil, and that
is exactly what happened. Nicky went to pieces. I am not heartless. I
held her and simply said, "Baby I'm sorry, but I'm not gay."
I think Nicky somehow thought that she could keep me if she could somehow
accommodate Alberto. It was obvious to us both that Alberto felt
uncomfortable, but he was not a quitter. In the end I suggested a
threesome. That was my mistake.
Alberto became a weekend housemate. The man with two transwomen to make
love to. I could understand that. I only want one man, but what man
would want one woman if he had two? Well, it turned out that Alberto
only wanted one.
He said to me, "Babe. You are the sweetest of hard candy, but I like
marshmallows."
Like, what the fuck does that mean. It meant that I was "too aggressive"
where Nicky was soft and submissive. Can you believe it? My husband was
girlier that me. It is true that Nicky was chubby and seemed to have
become a bit of an airhead since her first dose of hormones. And she
loved frills and ribbons and bows, and way too much pink.
Still, some men would rather fall into a soft sofa that ride a motorbike.
She is a sofa.
But what about me? Is there a man out there for me? A real man? Hello
out there!
The End
© Maryanne Peters 2019
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