"The black is sexier but the pink makes my boobs look better. What do you think?"
I am modeling lingerie for my husband Jake and his online friends.
Jake is lounging on the bed, shirtless, wearing a woman's wig. He is 56 days into hormone replacement therapy to become a woman. It's topless night for his Google+ support group, and trans women in various stages of transition are hollering from his computer screen: Ooh girl that's hot! The black, definitely the black! Yes, the black, you look gorgeous!
"Thanks, OK black it is!" I blush, darting embarrassed away from the camera, even though I am the most conservatively dressed for topless night.
I slip clothes over the black nightie and kiss Jake goodbye.
"See you in a couple hours; I'll be home by midnight."
"Ok, have fun baby!"
I lean in front of the camera and wave, "Thanks again ladies. Have a good night!"
I head out to have mind-blowing hot sex with my new boyfriend. I'll be back in time for a bedtime snuggle with Jake, to tell him about my date and hear how much fun he had chatting with his t-girls, before we fall asleep.
Four months ago I had a completely hetero-normal life. Jake and I were married for seven years, faithfully monogamous for the twelve years we'd been together. We were planning to start a family soon.
I could not have dreamed up my new life. I sure as hell never would have asked it for it. But this is my new normal. And I love it.