My wife and I used to have a very healthy sex life. While I obviously won't go into explicit detail, there once was to be a time when we barely missed a day. I know most couples are like that in the beginning, but this went on through almost our entire first year of marriage. That is, until IT happened.
Slowly, my interest in sex began to fade, and the change was quickly noticed by Kat. For the first two months or so after I had my re-awakening as Crystal, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about my identity questions, so I had to constantly try and make up some reason as to why I didn’t want the intimacy. I faked stomach aches and hid in the bathroom, claimed headaches that didn’t quite exist, even blamed the awkwardness of living in my parent's basement (a ridiculous statement considering we had been there for a few months already and them being awake had never stopped us before.)
As the situation continued, I attempted everything to keep Kat happy; practically trying to force myself into erection so that I could do my "husbandly duties." My biggest fear soon came true, as she began to first take my lack of interest personally, assuming that I just wasn't attracted to her anymore. She began to fall into her own depression, blaming her weight, her looks, her hair color; there wasn't a personal trait immune to the accusations. Soon after, she began to suspect infidelity; and that's when I knew I had to tell her the truth.
> ".. THIS NEW INFORMATION ABOUT MY GENDER IDENTITY ONLY STRENGTHENED HER FEAR THAT I WOULD STRAY.."
At first, learning about my issues did little to soothe Kat's fears. She knew that I was bisexual, a fact I had been open about for most of my life, but she knew I had little to no desire to be with a man. Despite knowing that for so long, this new information about my gender identity only strengthened her fear that I would stray; like many others, she immediately assumed that I would want to go and be with a man, as a woman. I was honest with her, such an experience had always been a fantasy of mine, however, a deep personal relationship like the one we had was much more important than a sexual encounter; and I would never betray our relationship for a brief fling.
As time went on, Kat became more comfortable with my identity; and as this happened, it gave me the ability to take action to combat my dysphoria. One of my biggest issues was my body hair, of which I had quite a lot; so I began keeping my shirt on during sex. Not seeing the hair helped keep the dissatisfaction at ease for a little while; when it began to become an issue again, we took the next logical steps and began first shaving and then eventually using Nair.
> "BUT EVENTUALLY, THE DYSPHORIA CAME BACK WITH A VENGEANCE AND I NEEDED MORE CHANGE TO KEEP ME SATISFIED."
Our sex life started to become more active, and we were both thrilled by it. But eventually, the dysphoria came back with a vengeance and I needed more change to keep me satisfied. When I set my plans for bariatric surgery and begun to lose weight, it eased some of the issues; after the procedure, once I was healed enough for, strenuous activity, things escalated once again and our sex life almost returned to that of the early days of our relationship. Not only did my sight of my new body make me feel more comfortable, but the weight loss granted me the ability to last longer, which of course satisfied us both deeply.
But, like always, it turns back the other way eventually. I absolutely hate it, I fear for its effect on my marriage; I despise nights like I had recently, lying in bed, the desire strong between the both of us, but just no way of willing myself into the "on position." I feel so guilty, having Kat curled up in my arms, her flashing that coy yet lustful smile, yet there's not a single thing I feel I can do to fulfill her desires. And even worse, I have no idea how to tell her these things at the time.
Ultimately, I find that my sex drive, much like my gender identity is on a pendulum; swaying back and forth between multiple positions. Some days, I enjoy my masculinity and feel a strong urge and desire; on other days, the sight of myself in the mirror makes me want to cry and the idea of "doing my husbandly duties," is difficult to consider.