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"They Don't Want Anybody to Hear Our Stories," Part 1
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"They Don't Want Anybody to Hear Our Stories," Part 1

“He went from being a very compassionate, generous, loving, doting husband to a verbally abusive wife.”

Lisa Selin Davis
Mar 20, 2023
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As a reminder, this is part 1 of a three-part series about autogynephilia and transwidows. Click here for a discount subscription.

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a close up of a woman with a pen in her mouth
Photo by Jesús Boscán on Unsplash

When Madison first met her husband Will, he rekindled her faith in men, in marriage. He was solicitous, gentle and kind, and good with her 11-year-old daughter. “After the first date, I knew he was the one,” she said.

For the first few years in their small southern city, it was bliss. “When other people would talk about their relationships and the words that they would say to each other like, ‘Fuck you’ or ‘Shut the fuck up’—he would never have said that to me. Ever. And we hardly ever fought. It would be like one fight a year. We never said things that hurt each other.”

After a stressful day at work, Madison (a pseudonym) would smile when she got into her car, anticipating returning to him, cocooning in his embrace. He was her safe place: helpful around the house, and with her daughter, and an equal partner in the life they’d created.

Madison, a fit 40-something with a mane of chestnut hair, works in health care, often leading workshops about sex-positivity, on everything from safe sex to BDSM—bondage, discipline, dominance/submission and sadomasochism: erotic preferences and practices, including roleplaying, that often involve contracts and consent. It was important to her to have a healthy sex life and a clear communication channel. “I’ve always been very sexually open,” she said, so she would try to probe Will about his inclinations and desires, but the otherwise loquacious man would become quiet. “It was almost impossible to get out of him what his fantasies were,” she said.

Then, one day, about six months into their marriage, while they were in their darkened bedroom, he whispered into her ear: “Maybe I’d like to wear a dress.”

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