My psycho ex

I already talked a little about my dating experiences pre-transition, but I feel like talking about my psychotic ex to illustrate just how crazy butch straight girls can be. I dated her from January-August in 2008, so it was right after my failed attempt to transition. I had known her for a little while just as acquaintances, and I was absolutely convinced she was a lesbian. I asked her on a date thinking I was androgynous enough for her (she did seem interested in me). On our first date, she talked about how funny it was that everyone she knows thought I was a girl; I quickly deduced that she thought I was a guy. Then she talked about her last boyfriend, which lead me to believe she was straight, despite the fact the everything about her screamed dyke. No matter, I had had a crush on her for some months, so I decided to go on a couple more dates with her. I told her I was a crossdresser as I usually do at the begininng of the relationship, and she was cool with that.

Anyway, after a while of dating I began crashing at her pad. This is when I really started to get to know her and began to realize just how psychotic she was. You see, she lived to fight. She is the most pugnacious person I have ever met. She had a very short fuse, and frequently I was embarassed to be seen in public with her because of the scenes she’d create because of some imagined slight. She was not above chasing someone down in a car, getting out and screaming at them until she was blue in the face. I quickly wanted out of the relationship, but I was afraid for my safety if I didn’t let her down just right. (She would throw pots and pans at my head if I wasn’t completely pleasent and obedient.) I decided to tell her I was trans and see what happened.

I did it the way I usually do; by writing a letter and letting them read it when I’m not around (this gives them time to sort out their thoughts/feelings and saves me from the initial, usually over-emotional and irrational reaction). Anyway, I came home from work that day to find her bathtud full of broken glass. She had gotten so mad, that she pulled every wine glass she had (which was a lot) from the shelf and smashed it in the tub. Like I said, psychotic. I was very glad I wasn’t there. She had also called all my friends, hoping to out me and ruin my life, but they all already knew, which pissed her off more because she didn’t like being “lied” to. She had always suspected that I was latently gay, she said, because I didn’t like sex with her. (Sex with her was a nightmare; she liked it extremely violent, and frequently I felt like some sort of murderer-rapist, which wasn’t a pleasurable experience, so I frequently found ways to avoid it.) I told her she was probably just projecting onto me because it’s obvious she’s a dyke and hasn’t come to terms with that. That pissed her off even more.

Anyway, we stayed together for a long time after that, because I was even more terrified of offending her. Luckily, after I required several hospitalizations due to my newly-developed mental illness, she decided to call it quits because she couldn’t handle having a crazy partner. For a few weeks we were friends, but she got a new boyfriend and decided she hated my guts suddenly. She began sending me harrassing text messages saying things like I was latently gay or that I fake a mental illness for attention. After a while that quit, and I started running into her in public places, which was really awkward. Thankfully, I haven’t seen her in almost a year, so I think she either moved or learned not to go to places that I frequent.

I’m still not convinved she’s not a lesbian.


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