This is the story of how Emery Walters became whom he was supposed to be.<br><br>I knew I was male at an early age, something that was a societal no-no in the 1950s and still is in parts of the country today. Burying my male identity, I strove to be the best woman possible. But after raising my four wonderful children from two debilitating marriages, I found myself alone and nearly penniless. That was when Emery asserted his identity.<br><br>Life became better with the shift from female to male, a third marriage, and a wife who, herself, transitioned from male to female.

Some Fine Day

This sort of reminiscing makes me wonder if I was fair to myself; either of my selves. Was it fair to not let my inner male see the light, except in day dreams, dreams and writing? Was I being fair to whom I thought I had to be? It was probably always a knife-edge balance. Once I had children, there was no way I could ever commit suicide, because of what it would do to them. (Note from now: when I did transition, I figured my kids were better off with a weird relative than a dead one.) I’m not saying I never thought of it, though, and at times the words ‘I wish I was dead’ would just pop into my mind.


Chapter 19