A journey to San Francisco to become no less than Me. (BLOG REBOOT: Former site of Hairy Legs.)

Posts tagged ‘Boyfriend’

And so we encounter the Biggie: the Dating Problem.

So I’ve been out of a bad relationship for a couple of months now it seems, and my sex drive has had time to recover.  I’ve long since passed that point where no longer having to Report In For Sex nightly is really nice.  I’m at that level of loneliness where being low on physical contact makes me feel notably low on energy, but not yet at that point where seeing a nice ass actually makes my crotch ache.  It’s close, I can tell, because being around cute guys who trigger my gaydar makes my heart race, and porn is slowly becoming interesting again.  I figure it’s time to get back on the bike and look into dating before I get to that point of desperation that makes me do really stupid things that I’ll regret for years to come.  For once, I’d like to actually have a choice in the person I wind up in bed with rather than jump on the first piece of ass that wiggles in my vicinity.

I never really thought I’d actually descend to the level of dating sites, but two years of pondering my personal position makes me realize that I’m really only going to find a partner in a situation where it’s not awkward to say “Hey, by the way, I’m FTM” right off the bat.  And it seems like the only situation where that could seem even remotely natural is on the web, preferably on a site where that’s a quality that someone is actively looking for.

I don’t necessarily want that to be the reason someone goes after me (although I don’t seem to have the problem with tranny-chasers that most Tguys seem to have), but by the same token, I don’t want to seduce any gay men who would initially have images of penis dancing through their heads.  In short, I want you to know what you’re getting up front when you get it, without you putting in time and energy to getting “trapped”.  I don’t have any vendetta against gay guys who aren’t into the vajayjay.  I get it, you know?  Some people just can’t be aroused when their partner’s crotch has a certain setup, and I can perfectly understand that.  It takes being compatible in ALL aspects- not just mentally.  I’ve come to terms with that.

So you might understand what I’m feeling when I say I saw someone on a message board lamenting that there weren’t enough gay transmen around.  HOLY CRAP, I’m thinking, THIS IS MY CHANCE!  I click into his profile.

He’s cute, an added bonus.  Genderfucker, his profile says- one of my fetishes!  I scroll down- Drag queen?!  Where have you been all my life?  He keeps a blog.  Oh my god, a fellow writer!  I have to read this!

I click in.  First post I see is about silly lighthearted shenanigans concerning forking someone’s lawn and TPing their house as retribution for a series of pranks.  This is great!  He’s got an active social life, isn’t afraid of a little adventure, a great sense of humor and not only that, the fact that his blog isn’t only about his queerness shows a levelheaded and well-rounded person who isn’t obsessed head to toe with the “Lifestyle”.  Well-written and good grammar to boot.  I’m all a-twitter.

Next post- a reflective post on spirituality taken to extremes; well intended, humorous, kind and thought-provoking, as well as a direct reflection of my own outlook on religion.  I’m ready to propose.  I find his facebook, shoot him a friend request.  Hope springs eternal.

Next post:

“…something something something, My Boyfriend something something…”

He has a boyfriend.

My heart crashes through my feet.  I feel betrayed.  Didn’t you just say you were looking for transmen?  Clearly you already found one, or you were referencing a time you were looking for one, in a different time, in a different place.  I scan your blog frantically for some mention of polyamory, open relationships, hell, even fuckbuddies-

I stop and laugh at myself for getting so wrapped up in this.  You promised me nothing- you don’t even know I exist.  The good ones are always taken, aren’t they?  I should have known someone so cute, sweet and smart would already be involved.   Now I feel like some kind of crazy internet stalker.  I should keep looking for someone in meatspace.

But in a community where the gay men hide due to fear of being shot and I’ve met two transpeople- total-

How do I even begin?

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Onslaught.

So I’ve been feeling really great about everything.  Last night, my lovely boyfriend and I finally managed to pull enough money together to order a good binder so I can stop using the backbreaking one I’ve been using, my insurance is about to go through so I can see about getting a gender therapist, everyone’s been seeing me as a guy, and people are slowly but surely figuring out the name.

I feel like I’m sitting on a go-cart that I’ve been trying to make go for months now, and finally some deity descended from the heavens and gave me a gentle push and now I’m finally, slowly, starting to roll down the hill.  But suddenly, my stomach is lurching because I’m looking forward and the hill gets a lot steeper from here, and I’m just about to pass that point where, if I wanted to, I could stick my legs out and grind to a halt without any major injury, get up, and walk away.  Things are About to Happen, and if I don’t stop before the Point of No Return, then there’s absolutely no going back and I’m going to have to ride this cart for the rest of my life.

It’s unbelievable, because I never thought I’d have these feelings.  I know it’s only natural to have a little bit of apprehension before the point of no return, but now I’m having this internal critic hit me with a real onslaught of all the really hard questions, things like:

– “Everyone’s going to look at you and say, ‘Why did you even transition, if you’re a gay man?  Gay men are basically just women anyway, wouldn’t it just be easier to stay in a girl’s body?'”

– “You never fit in as a girl, but suddenly you think that if you transition, you’ll fit in as a boy, and you KNOW that’s not true.  If anything, you’ll fit in less!”

– “You’re using this trans thing to explain all your boy tendencies, but once you cross over, how do you explain away all the girl ones?”

– “What if you’re not really a guy?  What if this IS just another phase, another obsession with being different, one that could get you KILLED?”

– “You say this explains everything- the abuse, the dissociation, etc., but what if you’re just making connections that aren’t there so that you can make your life make sense, and when the novelty of being trans wears itself out, it’s just another layer of fuck-up on top of the pile?”

These are the kinds of questions that have been killing me, the ones that have been keeping me up at night, really personal questions that only I would know.
I have answers for all of those questions, and when I remember the things that can’t be explained away with a “what if” scenario, like how only wearing a strap-on makes me feel complete and how being on top is the only sex act that entirely works for me, or how I really only feel attractive and not-deformed when I bind up and have a flat chest, or how I’ve been lusting after facial hair since I was six, and how I’ve always felt gay with boys and straight with girls, even long before I knew I could possibly be trans-

When I remember all those things, and how being trans makes my life complete, and how my mind has been at more peace in the last 6 months than it’s been the entire rest of my life-

When I remember how accepting that I was trans made the voices stop, made the dissociation fade and made me stop seeing things at night, and made my mind finally healthy, and some semblance of normal-

When I see how my friends and family are finally more happy that I’m less crazy and upset and irritable and generally screwed-up these days than they are sad to see the old me go away-

Then I know that everything’s going to be alright, and I can keep going.

My little insecurities and fears are not nearly enough to turn me away from the one thing that has made my life finally worth living.  I have been more afraid to die in the last six months than I even was when I was a child, and I take that as a good and healthy sign that I finally love life enough not to want to leave it.

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