Why? That is a good question. It is the one thing that people who don’t understand ask when they find out about a persons TG tendencies. Most people who are not ‘T’ or who have never lived with or had a close relationship with someone who is ‘T’ are usually full of so many invalid preconceptions that we face a really uphill struggle to be accepted.

Terry was a good woman. Well, she thought she was. A lot of other people did as well. The aura she presented to the world was one of confidence and sophistication. Inside, well, it was very different.

In a nutshell, her problem was her husband Stan. Over the years since their marriage and the birth of their two lovely children, he had gotten increasingly moody and distant.

It got to the point where Terry asked him one night as they lay in bed,

“Stan, are you seeing another woman?”

This caused Stan to sit up in surprise.


“I thought that my question was pretty simple. Are you seeing another woman?”

“No I’m not. What made you ask that?” replied Stan.

She paused for a moment or two.

“Ever since I met you, I have felt as if there was someone else in your life. I can’t put my finger on it but that is how it seems. At first, I dismissed it but recently, I can’t ignore it any longer. It is as if you aren’t here half the time.”

She paused again.

“Please tell me I’m dreaming?”

Stan didn’t say anything but looked at the now empty dinner plate.

“There is someone else.”

Terry said loudly.

“There I knew it! You were lying to me.”

Stan said softly.

“No Terry, I was not lying,” I said with total honesty.

The next morning at Breakfast, it was more of the same.

“Don’t tell me you are gay!”

“No my darling. I am not gay.”

“What the hell is it then?”

Stan looked down at his plate again.

“I wish I’d been born a woman.”

There was a pregnant silence for a few seconds.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me. I wish I’d been born a Woman. I want to wear lovely clothes like you. Not the boring stuff we men have to wear. I feel more at home in the company of women than with men. I want to walk around in heels, stockings and a skirt. I want to go and get my hair done. Have my nails done. Sit gossiping with my women friends and spend hours talking about nothing in particular.”

Terry was confused.


Stan couldn’t answer her. It was in his genes. It was in his soul. It was in every fibre of his being.

All he could say was,

“It is just I. I am not ill. It is who I am. If you want a divorce then fine. I can’t go on living this lie any longer. I love you but I can’t hold this inside me any longer.”

None of this registered with Terry. All she could say was.


No matter what Stan said, Terry just replied the same way,


In the end Stan gave up and walked out of the house. He needed some air and some time to think. His world was now a total wreck.

When he returned, he saw the word WHY painted all over his car. All his clothes were lying on the dewy grass outside.

He stopped dead in his tracks and thought

“Why did she do this to me?”

[The End]

We hide the fact that we are ‘T’ and our feelings sometimes so deep that it twists us up in little knots. This can also be really everyone in our lives who have no idea of the turmoil going on inside us.
I use the ‘T’ for anyone who is Transgendered, Transsexual or just a Transvestite. To most non ‘T’ people, they are all one and the same.
I’m one of those who owns more pairs of heels than I do ‘mens’ shoes.
So what does that make me? Don’t answer that…

If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos!
Click the Thumbs Up! button below to leave the author a kudos:
120 users have voted.

And please, remember to comment, too! Thanks. 
This story is 704 words long.