I chose Aphrodite, already having a relationship with Her. Aphrodite is far, far more than the glamorous ditz she’s often portrayed as. In the words of a wise FaceBook friend:
Aphrodite also has aspects that are very wise and can get to the root of love issues, as long as you don’t forget to thank her appropriately (and that last bit goes for Hera, too). She wasn’t just about quick flings or the period before marriage, otherwise I doubt she would have been honored alongside the marriage gods at Locri (which were Hades and Persephone).
As Aphrodite was also the what we’d call Patroness or Patron Goddess of Sappho, I believe this adds another level of appropriateness to my choice of Her.
And, as my not doing my fare share around the house is something my wife was harboring against me, this morning I administered their end of year tests to my two middle girls this morning. We home school, and I didn’t just sit around working on developing flat spots on my butt. —As for the Goddess, I began with an offering and promises of more, including an altar specifically dedicated to Her. As said, I have a preexisting relationship with Her, so She should really have one already.
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Last night my wife noticed I was crying silently, and against the advice of my therapist — I may be a little crazy, yes, but it’s de rigueur for transsexual women to have a therapist, at least in the beginning — I can hardly believe these are still early days, only nine months of living full time — and I make sure to play by the book in these matters ⸺ anyways (can you say anacolouthon?), against the advice of my therapist I told my wife everything. I’d been crying most of the afternoon and into the evening off and on.
Though our conversation did not begin well, and I became utterly hysterical and incoherent towards the end, the evening ended with us going to bed and my wife holding me in her arms and rocking me to sleep.
All has gone well today.
Χαῖρε Ἀϕροδίτη.
The Way of the Transgressor is Hard 