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

Posts tagged ‘drag queen’

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?

Random bits and pieces.

I’ve developed this weird little rash on my neck where my Adam’s Apple should be.  Yesterday, it looked like a hickey, which is weird because nobody’s been kissing me there.  Today, it feels bumpy and weird.  I don’t like to make a big deal out of unrelated events, but it just kinda tickled me- as if my body is going, “Look here.  You see this?  This here?  This is where this lump should be, and it’s not.  What the fuck.”

Also, I’ve been pumping, so “little friend” (as I call it) has been growing, I think.  I don’t know how much bigger, to be specific, or if anyone out on the interwebs needs to know the details, but my partner said it looks bigger, and he’s not the sort to say things just to make me feel better.  So that’s kind of exciting.

Insurance is being a dick.  I keep doing something wrong, or sending something in the wrong date, or etc. etc., and all I really want is to be able to go talk to a doctor about getting a T prescription.  I’m not asking for insurance to pay for it, I’ll pay for it myself, cent for cent.  But this is taking FOR-FUCKING-EVER, this red tape.  Plus, social services screwed me over for food stamps last year.  They said that when I was trying to cancel food stamps, THEY made a mistake, some sort of clerical error, and need ME to pay them back $200.  Are you kidding me?  I’ve been trying my damnedest just to hold on to $200, let along the $500 I need to get my car fixed- and yes, I’m in a situation where I don’t need help with food, but I AM ALSO in a situation where I DON’T need to owe people money!  This sucks azz, bro.

It just seems like the world is trying to hold me back from medically transitioning, because it’s taking forever to get this freaking ball rolling.  I’m going to be filling out the paperwork, AGAIN, hopefully for the last time, today.

I think my body’s catching on, though, in lieu of the ability to get testosterone in my body.  For instance, I’m noticing hair growing on my back and shoulders and all kinds of areas where I never really noticed any before.  Also, apparently my voice is deep enough for me to at least pass as a 15 year old boy.  I think it might be more of an inflection thing, and some of the voice stretching exercises.

Although I quit the minoxidil a little while back (read the comments on “Quick update: Minoxidil” for the reasons why), my eyebrows have been growing in a more male shape, which may or may not be due to the minoxidil.  I’ve been shaving my face a lot more often lately, too- it was kind of hard to let go of the tiny bits of peach fuzz at first, but then reading that it can actually incriminate more than having a clean shaven face (because men either have stubble or nothing and only women have peach fuzz), I reluctantly picked up the razor.  I’ve read both ways- that it’s an old wives tale that shaving makes your hair grow in darker, or that it’s just because the ends are more blunt when you shave off the tips, but either way, I think it’s been growing a little faster.

In order to give me more incentive to shave it off, I went to the store and bought this totally badass razor that has all these metallic bits and functions, and it came in a set with a bunch of guy-smelling soap and deodorant, all for $8, too, so I felt really good about that.  I was getting low on my shampoo.

All these little things and everything else coming together, plus just relaxing into a male identity and being more confident about it, I think is contributing to the amount of people reading me as male lately.  It was funny- at Faire, that group who initiated me, they were first a lot more awkward trying to tell me that they’d decided amongst themselves that I looked way better as a dude than as a chick.  They couldn’t imagine how epic it was to hear that!

I think it’s when you travel back, you can see how far you’ve come.  Last night, I was practicing one of my theatrical makeup techniques (specifically, how to make your eyebrows disappear without shaving them off) and it worked so well, I wound up turning it into a celebrity impersonation photoshoot for my makeup portfolio.  If you’ve ever heard of Amanda Palmer, you know it’s necessary to have no eyebrows to dress as her.  But you’ll also understand why, dressing as her, it was the first time in a long time I felt that comfortable wearing a dress.  She tends to defy gender boundaries, and that makes me happy.

Anyway, I noticed something in the pictures that jarred me a little- I didn’t look female when I put on makeup anymore.  I looked very distinctly like a drag queen!  That tells me how far I’ve come- I can’t look completely female anymore, even when dressing as one.  I knew that day would come, but I didn’t expect it this soon.

Family issues- my dad’s was trying at first, I think, to be accepting, but something’s going wrong here, because I don’t think he’s taking me seriously.  I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m going through a phase, and his latest hobby has been dropping little hints to remind me “what I really am.”  I think that he thinks he’s doing me a favor.  It feels like shit.  Like, every single little time I let my front of masculinity down the slightest bit, he’s there to catch me and remind me that “men do this and this,” or “you wouldn’t get it, it’s a guy thing.”  I have to conform to every single binary to get my dad to take me seriously, and it sucks ass, because I know he thinks I’m fake, and the way it’s going, he’s basically making me act fake so he’ll think I’m real.  He’s the only person who has power over me this way.  With everyone else, I can flaunt the gender binary and laugh when they look confused.  I don’t much care what people think.  With my dad, I really, really want him to think of me as his son… and he’s making me jump through hoops to get it.  It doesn’t help that I’m going out with a guy, either.  I’m sure that if I’d been born completely male, and if I were going out with a guy, he’d think I was a sissy-boy, too.  I don’t know how to resolve this.  He needs to understand that I’m not a traditional, cut-out male, but I’m not female, either.  I’m just his kid, hopefully his son, and if I’m not perfect, then too bad, because I’d be really boring if I were.  I’m doing the best I can to reconcile the two sides of my gender, and he’s not making it any easier.  In fact, he’s making it harder than anyone else, because I actually value his opinion.  I wonder, if he saw that, would he try to hurt me like this all the time?

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