The Penis Game
This post is a little personal, rather frank, and took some effort to write. If you’re not interested in hearing my thoughts on having a penis versus not having a penis, and on the possibility of having sex reassignment surgery, you probably shouldn’t read on. Consider yourself warned.
My identity as trans hasn’t really centered around genitals. Sure, I’ve fantasized about what I’d look like without a penis from a pretty young age, but my concept of myself as a boy or a girl didn’t pertain exclusively around what is or isn’t between my legs. I’ve never really though about surgery as something I’d want to do, or would feel like I needed to do.
Likewise, I enjoyed being sexual (alone or, ideally, with a partner) prior to starting my transition, and I never felt like I was forced into a ‘male’ role by having a penis, even though that may have been how things looked to an outside observer. Even as hormones have changed how I experience sex and feeling sexual, I’ve continued to enjoy those feelings – and managed to feel feminine – penis and all.
Lately, though, I’ve been thinking more and more about the possibility of having surgery…
This round of thinking started while shopping for clothing with a friend. I was trying on some skirts in the dressing room and realized I ‘bulged’ in an obvious way, something that doesn’t happen when I’m wearing pants. Likewise, when I went up to circus class today, I was the only woman in big baggy sweatpants, cuz I’m not dying to have a discussion about chicks-with-dicks. But if appearance were the only issue, I could always wear a gaff (and, indeed, I may try one) but it’s become something more than that.
I realized the other day, as I was lying on the couch watching TV and thinking about how I think about myself as gendered, that I don’t want my penis anymore. I still enjoy the pleasures it offers (not least of which is peeing standing up) but the idea of laying on the couch with a vagina just felt much more ‘right,’ in a way that it hadn’t before I started transitioning. I don’t know if I can explain it much better than that.
On the other hand, there are some serious roadblock – mental and practical – that deserve mention. First, any surgery is kind of gross, but SRS particularly is a tricky, and icky, procedure. This page has links to lots and lots of positive experiences (and pictures of positive surgery results) but also links to bad experiences and pictures of what could politely be called surgical ‘complications.’ (And more rudely, “Oh god, what the hell is that?!”)
In addition, surgery can range from around $6,000 for surgery in Thailand to up to $15,000-$20,000 for surgery in the US and Canada Now, there is a chance my insurance would cover some/all of that. But, if that is the case, I’d need to get moving, since my COBRA insurance runs out in about 18 months and no one was particularly eager to insure me the last time I checked. (“Will be on drugs for the rest of her life” doesn’t inspire insurer confidence.)
(I do feel compelled to note I managed to save the $4,390 for my current round of hair removal in about 9 months, putting me at just under 4 years to save up $20,000. And, as I joked with my therapist, if I were planning to drop $20,000 on surgery I’d do some serious fundraising. If I can post to my blog about the posibility of cutting off my penis (a nested-parentheses-note that it’s not actually cutting it off, but rather inverting it to make a vaginal cavity) I can damn well pester friends and family for money toward that end.)
Finally, the idea of drastically changing anything about my body is really scary. I’m sure that’s true for most people, but I think because I’m so used to having a mindset of “the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t,” and because I’m so terrified of changes in my body making things worse (possibly leading to shouts of “freak” and “pervert” while walking down the street) my tendency has been to avoid decisions that might have a negative consequence, even if the positive outcome could be amazing. (Hence what I feel was a huge delay in going on hormones in the first place.) I think that’s part of the reason why surgery never really even appeared on my radar until recently.
In any event, I don’t need to make a decision right this second, and hopefully I’ll be able to better wrap my head around things as I think about them more.
-R
PS – I also need to do a post on legally changing my name, something that I imagine would come WAY before surgery, and that I might start the ball rolling on within the next month or so.
PPS – I like that Wikipedia has an entry on the penis game.
Themocracy
[...] don’t need to reitterate what I said about my thoughts on surgery recently, but this dream has made those thoughts occupy more of my mental energy, and feels like another [...]
Whatever you decide, I certainly wish you the very best. I have a transgendered acquaintance (F2M) and can’t imagine how horrible it must be to have to make these kinds of decisions. Good luck and best wishes, no matter what you decide.
Thanks for the well-wishings, Craig. It’s definitely been a tough process, but I really appreciate having comments of support.
-R
I am very much attracted to transwomen who still have a penis. As I am bisexual, they seem to embody both the male and the female. Do you know if there are any/many transwomen who are happy in that dual state and do not intend to ever undergo surgery to remove the penis?
I can see that surgery is a very difficult decision to make, so I wish you all the best whether you decide to go for it or not.
Cheers
Thanks for stopping by, Queeryous. I’m honestly not sure – I think, historically, that wasn’t viewed as a “valid” choice by the medical establishment, so I can’t imagine a lot of trans women willing to be really public about that as their identity. However, I do know more recent statements of identity like genderqueer have given people the opportunity to feel justified in their choice not to transition “all the way.” (The term non-op, in contrast to pre- and post-operative, is sometimes used to describe this decision.)
I would be careful about how you express your attraction, as it could be read as “tranny chasing” or as fetishizing someone’s identity. I’m not accusing you of this, as I really don’t know you well enough to make such an accusation, but I know I would be wary if someone said to me that they were attracted to my status as a trans woman.
In any event, thanks for the well-wishings, and I hope to see your comments again soon.
Hmmm not to mention that most trans women are going be totally wary of someone who ungenders us: “they seem to embody both the male and the female” and “are happy in that dual state” basically = “I don’t see you as a (‘real’/'proper’) woman but another gender entirely”. Some trans people are non binary genders but trans women, by definition, are not, are they.
Langauge matters.
That’s a good point. There certainly are individuals who identify as embodying both male and female (or who reject that binary to begin with), but simply because an individual has a penis doesn’t mean that it embodies maleness to them.
This is an eye-opener. I thought that MTF hated their penises or at least saw it as an alien object. I obviously don’t know much about gender or trans issues.
For making the decision I would be easier if you hated your penis, I guess, but being comfortable with your penis probably made your life easier until know.
I have an argument against sex reassignment surgery: some women can’t have an orgasm anymore. For you as a person who enjoys sex, this would be a big problem.
(English is a foreign language for me and I am not familiar with the proper words for gender, trans etc, so please do not be offended if I used the wrong words. I didn’t mean to be rude or disrespecful)
Thanks for the comment, Peter. My experience is that no two trans people have the exact same experience and relationship with their body. (Pretty much the same as everyone else, I suppose.)
There’s definitely the pop-culture expectation that trans women want their penis “cut off” as soon as possible, and this is definitely true for some. It just hasn’t been my experience.
And I agree – my decisions around surgery would be easier if I did hate what’s between my legs! Likewise, the possibility of being unable to orgasm is pretty scary. My understanding is that’s become less and less of an issue as surgery techniques have improved, but there’s still no guarantee.
In any event, I’m glad I could help clear up some misconceptions.