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My man's all woman

My macho, tattoo-covered builder is having a downstairs conversation...


Published by: Jen Tippet & Jean Jollands
Published on: 7th April 2011

Talk about gorgeous! I was moving in with my boyfriend Andy and didn’t know where to look. Glistening with sweat, his muscles bulged as he lugged boxes inside.
‘Don’t you lift a finger,’ he winked. ‘I’ll sort this.’
Wasn’t that what every girl wanted to hear? And wasn’t he what every girl wanted to look at?! Almost 6ft tall, wearing a paint-splattered t-shirt and with his dark hair in a ponytail, he was the spit of action hero Steven Seagal.
A builder by trade, he had the macho tattoos, too – an eagle on one forearm, a knife on the other.
But Andy wasn’t just a tattooed hunk, he was a great listener as well.
It had been clear the first time we’d met at a nightclub in Bury St Edmunds, in Suffolk, five months earlier.
‘A penny for them?’ he’d smiled, spotting me at the bar, alone. Still reeling from my divorce, I’d been out trying to cheer myself up.
Andy bought me a drink, let me drone on for hours. Then he’d opened up about himself.
‘I’ve been there, too,’ he’d admitted. ‘I was married once, with kids.’
‘I feel like…’ I’d started.
‘A failure,’ he’d finished. ‘You think you have it all, then it comes crashing down around you.’
It was like he’d read my mind.
‘It’s hard to bounce back from a broken heart,’ he’d sighed.
But, with his help, I had. He was the perfect package – a gorgeous hunk with a sensitive side. And now we were moving in together.
We talked into the night and even held hands while watching telly. I’d found my soulmate and, when he proposed three years later, I said yes.
It wasn’t a big ceremony though, just my mum, Godliver, 73, joined us at the register office.
‘We only need each other,’ I told Andy.
‘This way I can have you to myself,’ he teased.
Afterwards, we went for a romantic walk in the Yorkshire Dales, fed each other fish and chips, and chugged back champagne. It might not have been glamorous, but it was the happiest I’d ever been.
Yet, just weeks later, things started to turn sour….
‘Hey,’ I grinned, sidling up to Andy on the settee one evening. I reached for his hand. He stiffened.
‘I-I’ll make us a cuppa,’ he mumbled, hurrying off to the kitchen. Frowning, I followed.
‘Everything okay?’ I said.
‘Yeah,’ he mumbled.
‘You’d tell me if it wasn’t?’ I asked. After all, we’d always been so open.
‘Of course,’ he shrugged.
Well, we all have our off days I suppose. Except, a month into our marriage, Andy was still having his.
Gone were our romantic cuddles on the sofa. Andy became distant and snappy, the opposite to the caring, gentle hunk I’d fallen for.
‘How about we turn off the telly and chat,’ I suggested. ‘Like old times.’
‘I’m tired,’ he sighed deeply. ‘I think I’ll have an early night.’
Something was wrong, but what? I was at a total loss.
Six weeks after our wedding day, I decided to bring the romance back into our relationship. I’d surprise Andy, take him out for dinner, show him how much I loved him.
But when I got home early from my computer course the house was in darkness, except for the orange glow coming off the log fire. Odd, what was Andy….
Then I saw her.
A woman with dark, shoulder-length hair was wandering around our front room, wearing my knee-high leather boots, my tartan skirt and a polo neck sweater.
The little…!
So that’s why Andy was so withdrawn, he was having it off with some tart!
Then the woman turned around… and it wasn’t a woman at all.
It was…. ‘Andy?!’ I gasped.
My macho muscle man was in drag, dolled up like Barbie!
Letting myself into the house, I stood in the doorway to the front room, shell-shocked.
‘Andy, what the hell do you think you’re doing?’ I pleaded.
‘Vaudine! Oh God!’ His face fell. ‘Y-you weren’t supposed to find out like this.’
‘Find out what?!’ I urged. ‘Why are you dressed like this?’
‘I-I… there’s no easy way to tell you.’ His padded shoulders slumped. ‘I don’t want to be Andy any more. All my life, I’ve known I was supposed to be a woman.’
Was I hearing things? Not my Stephen Seagal. He was a builder, had tattoos, he couldn’t be more macho if he tried!
‘I want to be Tina,’ he added. ‘All this – the tattoos, being a builder – I was trying to suppress my feminine side, but not any longer. I want a sex change.’
What?! I was shocked.
‘The ink isn’t even dry on our marriage certificate,’ I blurted. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Didn’t I at least deserve that?’
‘Because you’re my whole world,’ he sobbed. ‘I was terrified of losing you.’
I felt so confused and, most of all, betrayed.
Why hadn’t he confided in me? I thought we’d always been so honest with each other, was everything we’d shared a lie? Had I ever known the real Andy?
‘I need some space,’ I told him.
That night, I moved into the spare bedroom, but I didn’t sleep.
I hated how Andy hadn’t opened up to me but, after everything, I still loved him. I just wanted to hold him, tell him everything would be okay, like I knew he’d have done for me.
He’d always been my rock, now it was time for me to be his.
Whether he wanted to be a man or a woman, he was still my soulmate. I couldn’t abandon him.
‘I can’t hate you,’ I admitted to him the next day. ‘I’ll support you, whatever happens.’
His eyes filled with tears.
‘Thank you,’ he whispered. ‘You don’t know what that means to me. I never wanted to hurt you.’
Even though I knew our marriage was over, I was still there for Andy.
He quit his job and I went with him to the doctor’s, where he was diagnosed with gender dysphoria – he felt like a woman trapped in a man’s body.
When he was told he’d have to spend a few years living as a woman before he could qualify for sex change surgery, I made it my mission to coach him in how to become a woman.
‘Stand straight, suck your bottom in,’ I told him, as he thumped round the house in size nine stilettos.
‘It’s not as easy as it looks,’ he grinned sheepishly.
‘And don’t splay your legs,’ I suggested as we practised sitting down daintily.
I showed him how to highlight his eyes with eyeshadow, and go easy on the lippy.
One day, I even spent 10 hours plucking every bristle out of his face to give him softer skin.
It’s been five years since Andy started living as Tina, and she’s happy to be having her op soon.
‘I never believed someone could love me for who I really am,’ said Tina the other day. ‘You give me the strength to keep going.’
In the past, Andy was there for me and, in the future, I’ll be there for Tina – a whole new friend and soulmate.
Vaudine Cook, 50, Darlington, Co Durham