Eight years ago Mary and I met on craigslist, Women Seeking Women. I preferred butch women: the butcher the better. But even under their jeans my butch women had American thighs. Mary talked of transitioning. Several old girlfriends had had passing fancies of transitioning, so this was not new to me .
I was at the hospital when the binding and then the breasts came off. Then I feared that Mary would die from the surgery. She kind of did, what with Ben’s emergence. Ben was a brighter being than I’d ever seen. His shape of his female American thighs re-adjusted with T.
That day of surgery, my lesbianness also came off with Mary’s breasts. I’m not a lesbian I guess since I’m married to a transman, not straight, not bi, and not pan. I’m just not.