I donít know where to start. I find that most of my conversations begin this way these days. The feeling of my life lately is akin to picking up a novel youíve never read and start reading mid-way through; you donít know the characters, the plot, or why the image of the tree is so damn important. But, there you are at three a.m. sitting in the bathroom reading because you just canít put the book down.
Now I've been on T for a full month. My friend told me that lots of transguys she knows call this the "junk food and jerk off" stage. Why? Because you're hungry as hell all the time and horny, too! It's not really bad, actually, and I'm quite enjoying myself.
I've adorned them, they've been adored by my lovers, and I still love on them today.
So why, then, am I looking forward to the day when I can have them surgically removed?
And, please, keep your opinions of trans-ness out of my bedroom, thank you very much. See, no matter how I change my body, it doesn't effect how I personally prefer to have sex. If my female partner wanted to put me in a Catholic school girl uniform and fuck me from behind, GREAT! Sign me up now-- I'm not even joking. My opinions are mine, just as yours belong to you, but don't push them on me or judge me and how I identify with them.
It's not the quasi-porn sounding moans that would immediately come to mind when I say that. It's in the swift intake of breath when I first touch someone...tiny, almost plaintive moans and murmurs...the sounds of desperate hands grabbing for something to hold (sheets, headboard, a body).
Each day the decision gets easier but it is still a hurdle. Do I wear the bra or the binder? Bra... binder... bra... binder... It's enough to make me crazy sometimes. If I put the bra on, it is the only piece of "drag" that I'm wearing (yeah, let that one twist your brain). If I put on the binder, then I have to worry if my co-workers (who don't know about my trans identity yet) will notice that my breasts have suddenly gone into hiding.
I have been proud to be a lesbian since I realized I was and came Out to my friends, family, and then society in general. Living where I do, being a proud Out pagan carries more danger than being gay. I thought, with this history of guilt and fear, that I had reached a place where I was no longer afraid to be who I am. I was wrong.
Think your daughter is lesbian, but she won't talk? EmmaLee has some advice... And when is sex with the ex bad?
It was hard for me as I got older to sit in church on a Sunday morning and listen to a classmate of mine get up and talk about how much she loved the Lord when I knew she had been out at the pasture party the night before drunk and high having sex with her boy friend.
Ask any group of lesbians what their feelings are towards bisexual women and you are bound to turn up at least one bitter comment. Those of us who are familiar with lesbian culture will cringe at the thought of asking our brethren to discuss bisexuals. In fact, we may harbor ill will towards the bisexual women ourselves.
On September 2nd, 2003 my mother succumbed to cancer at age 56. She died the same way she lived: thinking of nothing but her two daughters. My sister and I are preparing to pick out a headstone and have it installed at her plot in our hometown four hours away.
This isn't about her death, however, but rather about her life.
A Lesbian Couple Celebrates V-Day