Edited By Holly H.Hart

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As we prepare to renew our marriage vows, I can’t help but remember the past. Pat and I have been married now for ten years. During that time we have been through many trials and tribulations.

I first remember seeing Pat during our high school sophomore year. My first impressions were of a tall awkward loner that had recently had their teenage growth spurt. However, different classes, with the same circle of non-friends kept us apart. From a distance, I watched Pat’s body begin to ripple with muscles. The rumors were that Pat’s family was into bodybuilding and such. Pat’s father was a minor local celebrity, with Pat’s brothers trying to follow closely in his footsteps.

I first saw Pat dressed as a young lady in our senior year of high school. We had both gone separately to a nearby teen club and hangout. Afterwards, I was outside waiting for a taxi when a group of gang members began to harass me. Shortly after that, Pat came out of the club and they switched targets. Pat managed to beat them off, but with a dress in tatters and many small cuts and spit all over. All the while, they had taunted Pat with accusations of ‘faggot’ and other less complimentary names.

Afterwards, I managed to stop the bleeding and clean Pat up a little. When I was about to call the police, Pat refused because of the possible bad publicity and adverse family reaction.

Intrigued, I continued to check up on Pat. I could tell that the attack was bothersome, but Pat refused to talk about it. Pat had been assaulted both verbally and physically although I guess that is really called battery.

Why? Simply put, even now, Pat doesn’t exactly have the figure for dresses. To be blunt, Pat LOOKS like a guy in a dress. With wide shoulders and narrow hips to start, large arms and legs from weight training make finding any nice dress nearly impossible. So when Pat ‘dresses up’, feminine isn’t exactly the term to use. Sad to say, Pat stands out like a sore thumb, and every idiot has to spew his or her own snide and cutting remarks. Pat doesn’t always act ‘lady-like’ when this happens. Anger management classes have helped a lot.

We occasionally bumped into each other until graduation but never had a ‘date’. That didn’t happen until shortly after we graduated. We had a nice dinner and Pat drove me home afterwards.

I can only guess at what followed, but I think it’s accurate. Pat’s brother saw us together shortly after our ‘date’. The police report says ‘a person or persons unknown’ assaulted and hospitalized the victim. Two weeks of in-patient care and two months follow up doesn’t describe the pain and fear. Pat never visited me in the hospital, so I presume less than subtle pressure was applied.
 

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Our paths finally crossed again during our second semester at Poly Tech. We both had the same Chemistry class. When our second lab project required partners we mutually picked each other. The testosterone charged group that approached me to be their partner on the first project, only wanted to date me and get in my underwear. Likewise, the estrogen influenced crowd wanted to be Pat’s arm candy. As a side benefit, they all wanted us to carry them through the assigned project Since we had more than a passing acquaintance from high school, we agreed to team up to eliminate those petty annoyances. We should have talked more about ourselves, but instead, took the easy route and stuck to the books.

I have had almost a lifetime to learn to dress in beautiful dresses, fancy hairstyles and learning the art of beauty enhancement with appropriate make-up. Pat’d had only brief hidden attempts to learn while trying to hide it from a testosterone-overloaded family of goons.

It came to a head several months later. We had arranged to do a marathon study session, and I stopped by Pat’s dorm early, only to find that Pat had just left. I found Pat just outside of town, climbing a fence, getting ready to jump off a bridge. Many secrets on both sides were revealed that night.

About a year later Pat returned the favor. I was almost raped, but Pat was looking for me and discovered what was about to happen just in time to prevent it. Pat was there both to stop the attempt and to give me the desperately needed emotional support I needed later. After the attempted rape I felt unworthy of Pat’s love and would have attempted suicide shortly afterwards if it hadn’t been for Pat. Pat’s unconditional love and support saw me through some very hard times.

We are both smart and earned our places in the top ten of our graduating class. Yet by almost any other measure, Pat and I were opposites. Pat was from the poor side of town, while my parents were at least upper-middle class and rising. I was 5’2” while Pat was 5’11”. Pat was shy and retiring while I tended to talk the ear off anyone I could corner. Pat wore grunge most of the time and sweats were considered dressing up. I wore anything with color, flash, and glitz. The more leg and cleavage I showed, the better.
 

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Pat’s departure from the testosterone soaked family of morons; otherwise known as a father and brothers, for college, was the first step to the real Pat. . Pat had won several competitions but the physical and mental toll had been terrible.

The next step was to counteract some of her undesired masculine features, so Pat started on HRT. The estrogen began to soften Pat’s more angular facial features and some of the muscle bulk was lost and is slowly continuing to be lost. These unfeminine features were the result of forced steroid use in Pat’s teens and early adult life as a competition body builder

As I’ve said, Pat stands 5’11” in bare feet. Even after mastering high heels, Pat seldom wears them. When we are together it just doesn’t look right. I, on the other hand, must always wear at least 4” heels. The pain a ‘woman’ goes through for her ‘man’. On occasion, I’ve tried to butch up as much as possible while Pat tries to look as feminine as possible, net result, two non-passable transvestites. Even binding my ‘C’ cup breasts, I make a poor imitation of a man. As an example, on our fifth anniversary I had on a beautiful off the shoulder midnight blue satin creation. My under cup pushup style corset gave me an indecent amount of cleavage and an almost wasp waist. Poor Pat on the other hand, struggled into a corset and barely got any compression. Finally, after years of medication, Pat is getting some true cleavage, but the years of bodybuilding have taken their toll.

And Pat is fashion sense challenged. When we first met, Pat’s idea of fashion co-ordination had been any shirt and pants that were clean. Light colored shirts and dark colored pants gave an infinite variation in clothes co-ordination. Plaids, designs, stripes (horizontal or vertical) were never considered as part of the concept. The only exception was the appropriate cover up for competitions as suggested by Pat’s trainer during competition.

When it was time to help my ‘Princess’ get dressed on our fifth anniversary, we almost had a fight over the dress. Pat thought it too revealing, and favored some hideous pink thing that was all wrong. Pat was still stuck in the five year old dress up mentality.
 

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Pat has shown much improvement over the years and is now adept at doing make-up. Pat has done very well this year especially, with rarely any need for me to correct anything. However, tonight is special and I treated Pat to a salon makeover so that all can truly see the lovely ‘Princess’ that I see.

Pat’s had a hard life by anyone’s standard. Pat’s mother died of a stroke and Pat had to be delivered prematurely. When finally allowed to be taken home, Pat had to contend with a no frills taskmaster father, and five brothers. With no feminine influence and being around so many males, Pat’s life became just as rough and tumble as the brothers. Pat had a softer side, but had no way to express it. Whenever Pat tried to express that side, severe ridicule was the order of the day. As a result, Pat was as competitive as the brothers and father. Pat soon learned that to stay up with them, steroid use was imperative to bulk up and stay competitive in the constant arena of bodybuilding and her over masculine family life. Pat’s father and brothers dominance ended only after Pat had surpassed them all in height and rivaled them in bulk as well. Privately, Pat longed to try on the clothes of the few friends from school, but training, her size, and occasional fatherly beatings put a stop to that.

This is where I, as Pat’s loving spouse, enter. With understanding and love, we have been able to tap into Pat’s feminine side. With proper clothes, make-up and hairstyles, Pat’s inner beauty truly began to shine. One of the secrets I learned that night by the bridge was that Pat had just learned that her long-term use of steroids had caused sterility. This had been a tremendous blow to Pat’s mental image. Never to able to have children of your own is a tough blow to anyone.

Every time she tries to dress in anything the least bit feminine, ridicule is not too far behind. Pat will always have that masculine look, even with the HRT, and has accepted that as a painful fact of life.
 

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The music has started for the bridal march to the altar. Today we are renewing our wedding vows. When we were married, I was the beautiful bride making the slow walk down the aisle. I wore a gorgeous white satin gown with a ton of lace and a ten-foot train. I was giddy and nervous staring at my spouse to be in an immaculately tailored white Tuxedo. I was anxious to be on our honeymoon cruise to the Bahamas.

Now it is Pat’s turn to be the bride in white. Pat wanted both of us in gowns but I vetoed the idea. After all, there should only be one bride in the limelight and it was Pat’s turn. Pat should have been the one on our original wedding day but it was too soon for Pat to be so much on display. Now, finally, it is Pat’s time to be the lovely bride in virginal white.

It’s funny. When we walk down the street dressed for a ‘girl’s night out’ all people see is a beautiful woman and a transvestite. I see the same thing, except I AM the transvestite and Pat is a very beautiful woman to ME.
 
 

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 © 2006 by MichelleA. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.

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