I hope you have enjoyed the story so far. It has been a mixture of true story and fantasy. Some parts were inspired by comments and feedback from other readers, but I am trying to get back to my original story. I hope you enjoy, and please continue with the feedback. Votes, comments, and messages. All feedback is appreciated and encouraged so I can get better at this.

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After Amy and I had professed our love for Steph, she held us closer. Her head rested on my chest and her hand caressed Amy’s cheek. Her body still lightly shook as she tried to hold back her tears. Amy and I did the best we could to just soothe Steph because we did not understand this raw emotion escaping such a vibrant and vivacious woman.

As her breathing slowed to normal and the tears stopped flowing, Amy risked asking her what had her so upset. Steph took a deep breath. Hesitatingly, she began to tell us. We could tell she was choosing her words, trying to keep from crying again.

“I was born with both a penis and a vagina… the doctor’s wanted to do surgery right away but my parent’s couldn’t agree. My father always wanted a boy and my mother insisted I was a girl. It became an issue and the only compromise they could come up with was to wait and see – wait and see what I wanted. They named me Steph because it could be short for Stephanie or Stephen.

It went on for years. I never understood that I was different than other kids. There was no conscious decision from me, I just naturally identified with the girls. I wore dresses, loved dolls… stuff traditionally considered girls stuff. But my dad refused to give up on having a boy. You would think they could have just tried for another child. Instead it became a power struggle between my mother and father. By the time I became a teenager, the doctors were telling my parents that only I could make a decision about having surgery.

By the time I realized that my body was different than other girls, I felt that how I was made was who I was. I didn’t make a decision about surgery. I never realized how that would change my life.

The first time I started to have a relationship, things were going great… until he found about how I was different from other girls. I woke up three days later in the hospital, my body a broken and beaten mess. My parents withdrew me from school and we moved halfway across the country. They made me promise to avoid a boyfriend and revealing my secret. I was lonely and miserable. I thought going to college would make a difference. My very first day in class, I sat down and just three seats down from me was guy from my old high school – a good friend of my first boyfriend. I couldn’t believe he was here, so far from his hometown. I couldn’t fathom the odds. I saw the reaction when he recognized who I was, and in a panic I grabbed my book bag and ran. I never went back.

My father went ballistic. He kicked me out of the house and I left… I moved a few towns over and prayed I knew no one there. I worked odd jobs for a few years. I tried dating a few times. The same reaction every time. As soon as they learned about me… about the real me, they became angry and violent. It was during a visit to the emergency room when I had two epiphanies. One, I would not give up on a relationship, no matter how unlovable I was. And two, I wanted to help people as well and I was going to go to nursing school.

Oh, I went out with people… I tried to love. I vowed that I would be up front and honest with the people I met. Every time ended in one of two ways – they walked away in disgust or they used me for a fling; a chance to walk on the kinky side. But I was left alone at the end of the day. Every. Single. Time. After years of this happening, I had realized the truth – my father was right. I was unlovable.”

Amy climbed off the bed, walked around to the side Steph was laying on, tears streaming down her cheeks. She climbed on behind Steph and wrapped her in her arms. She kept repeating the same thing over and over. “We love you. We love you.”

We laid there, trying to let our love and understanding seep from our skin and soak into Steph. She still held her body rigid, afraid to let herself go. After a moment, she extracted herself from between us and slid off the bed.

“Sure, you can love my personality. You can love my company. But can anyone really love… all of me?”

I stood from the bed and walked over to Steph. I brushed a strand of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. She looked down, averting her eyes. Amy walked over to us and stood next to me. She first lifted Steph’s face by the chin so that she was looking right at Amy.