"What does being transgender mean for you?". That was how we began our way through all of this.

I responded, "It means that I have a feminine side to me which feels more authentic than the male side I present to the world. It means there is a constant expectation from myself to express my feminity".

"Honey, I need to talk to you", I said to her with some trepidation. I did not know how she would react, but I needed to tell her the truth after these few years of our marriage.

This story is about an Indian couples' struggle as their marriage is tested and they try to navigate their way through the entirely new expectations and experiences of the husband's suppressed auto-gynephilia and trauma from abuse sexual/otherwise, against a backdrop of traditional patriarchal Indian society and an intensely segregated LGBT community.

Life and Love are far more complicated than we can possibly understand. For one young cop, a journey of self-discovery will teach them that true strength was inside them all along.

“I see that grin. You got something different, don’t you?” Beth asked.

“Yeah, what my helper said.” Beth replied.

It's been three years, but hopefully I can get back into writing. Here it is, picking up from the last chapter, more Tracy!
Once again, if you feel the need, go back and re-read the old ones, I had to.

Chuck faced the illuminated city of night below us. His voice was invested with emotion. I wondered where that was coming from.

Life and Love are far more complicated than we can possibly understand. For one young cop, a journey of self-discovery will teach them that true strength was inside them all along.

“Unf,” I grunt as I’m woken from a dreamless slumber by my phone, though it isn’t my alarm that wakes me, but rather an incoming call. I try to smile as I click the ‘answer’ button- normally I'd be happy to see the identity of the caller on my phone's screen, but it's much too early- and much too cold- for that right now.

“Good morning, Ian!” Grandma says with a cheerful tone. “Or rather, happy birth-eve!”

“Thanks, grandma,” I say quietly as I prop myself up in bed and huddle my sheets around my shivering form. “Is everything okay in Cardiff?”

“Thank you, Rafe, but this is too extravagant. You really shouldn’t have…”

“Wear it to the Oscars when your screenplay is nominated.”

“ . . . under that fine mind, you have a tender, loving heart, and you need to value it.”

I handed Rafe a mug of hot chocolate as he stood by the windows of Alastair’s apartment, peering out onto Perry Street, seemingly deep in thought.

“Thanks, Joey.”

“Penny for your thoughts.”

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

“Love is a powerful thing, isn’t it?”

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

“There’s less than ten lines for my character in the whole scene, Debbie.”

Words are better . . . truer, maybe . . . when silence surrounds them.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

The morning after the charity gala, Debbie literally dragged me out of bed (actually the couch).
As I landed on the floor with a dull thud, still wearing the outfit I wore to the gala, I protested groggily.