The World Professional Association for Transgender Health is NOT an insurance company. It is subject to its own enabling Act, and is neither an entitlement nor a welfare program.

Gender dysphoria is broadly defined as Section 7, operated by a board of directors pursuant to the Comprehensive Health Insurance Plan Act (215 ILCS 105/1 et seq.)

Discomfort or distress that is caused by a discrepancy between a person’s gender identity and that person’s sex assigned at birth must be eligible for this state program.

Transsexual, transgender, and gender nonconforming individuals who plan to change gender roles permanently will result in termination from the program as of the date required by state law.

The following is a brief description of the benefits provided by CHIP for covered services, drugs and supplies:

• surgeons
• patients
• mental healthcare professionals
• other health professionals
• clinical care

CHIP will not pay for any expense or charge set forth in more detail in any benefit plan booklet.

Transgender adjective must continue to meet all of the CHIP eligibility requirements.

Transsexual adjective must continue to meet all of the CHIP eligibility requirements.

Services, drugs or supplies that are for, or resulting from, surgery or surgeries performed in connection with sexual reassignment or gender transformation are often applied by the medical profession (referred to herein as Section 15).

Section 15 is neither an entitlement nor a welfare program.

Mental health professionals who plan to change gender roles permanently must be eligible for this state program before you can enroll.

The Illinois General Assembly- broadly defined as discomfort or distress – will not pay for any expense or charge.

No fair! My feet didn't come with a flower!

Below the waist. My feet, like my hands, are slightly bigger than I’d like, hairier than I’d like, but I can’t really complain. They’re not huge, it’s occasionally obnoxious to find shoes in my size but never impossible, and hair removal has thinned much of the worst growth. I still have some patches around my ankles that I need to shave when I shave my legs, but no body is perfect. My legs rival my chest and face for the most dramatic success of hair removal. I shave my legs, much more in warm months, but don’t grow the same thick brambly forest that I used to. As of today, I haven’t shaved my legs in at least a month, and while they’re hairy compared to my shaved-this-morning face, they’re night and day compared to when I was in high school, pre hormones and hair removal. My legs are, like my arms, places of strength. I don’t run – it hurts my knees – but I bike and walk and swim and climb ropes and trees and lovers. I’ve been working on strengthening my hips, something a physical therapist said would help my knees, but don’t have much to complain about.

At the same time, my legs and arms have shrunk the most over the course of my transition. I joke that, since going on hormones, I’ve gone up two cup sizes without gaining any weight. All that mass, my previously mentioned boobs, had to come from somewhere – lots of it came from now-departed muscle mass in my arms and legs. I’m still stronger than lots of my girl friends, who knows whether as a result of testosterone or simply genetics, but decidedly less strong than I was before hormones. I’m not complaining, however, other than the occasional struggle at circus or the gym. But no pain, no gain. Or something.

Stretch marks line my thighs where they connect to my hips. I remember in middle school, shortly after the onset of puberty, asking my mom what these strange lines on my thighs were. She laughed and explained how growth impacts the body and the skin. My calves have the occasional scar or mark: Where I backed into a hot camp stove on a family camping trip, the spot on my knee I hit over and over and over the summer I was learning to ride my bike, marks of time and of growth and of pain. (I forgot, in Part One of this map, that my left hand (with the broken fingers) has a small companion scar on my shoulder where I hit the ground when flipped off my bike.)

My hips and my butt have grown over the course of my transition, shifting and changing like so many parts of my body. But, again, like so many parts of my body, not in exactly the way I’d want. But, again, no body is perfect. I’d love for my hips to be a little wider, my butt a little more rounded, my boobs a bit bigger. But I love the curves of my hips and my butt that are there. The way the right dress or tights or shorts hugs my body on the way down. The exact way the suits and pants and clothing I used to wear before transitioning didn’t.

This is exactly what I was hoping to find when I searched for 'cartoon cock.'

Curving around to the front of my body brings me to a part of my anatomy that has absorbed a lot of my mental energy lately. My dick. My cock. My penis. Whatever you want to call it. (Or, if you prefer (as one partner did), whatever you want to call her.) Searching this blog for penis brings up lots of posts. (I want to make a joke about “raising the issue” but can’t figure it out. Someone make an innuendo in the comments.)

Unlike some trans women, I’ve never felt like my penis was a totally foreign part of my anatomy. (Yet another parenthetical: I don’t think that makes me a ‘better’ or ‘worse’ trans woman. There is no hierarchy of transness! This is an observation I’m making about my experience, not a judgement about myself or anyone else.) I never felt like I wanted the dangly bits between my legs, but – starting around the end of middle school – I was able to identify that doing certain things felt good. Occasionally, it felt great. I, like many teens, became a regular and proficient masturbator.

I wasn’t always sure how to fit that within my burgeoning trans identity, though. Lots of the stuff I read online talked about people wanting to “cut off” their penis. I hid it between my legs sometimes, enjoyed the smooth and tucked look much more than the bulge, but not to the point of seriously contemplating taking a scissors down there for a trim.

But my penis and I didn’t have a great relationship. I remember the first time I masturbated, stopping at one point and thinking “OK, I’ll try this again tomorrow.” Then reaching down and finding all this stickiness - I’d cum without realizing it – and thinking, “That’s what all the fuss is about? That was fun, but not great…” Over time I learned how to elicit better sensations, and I certainly enjoyed masturbating and such, but I feel like going on hormones really opened my eyes to my body. (That’s a shitty metaphor, but you know what I mean.)

My first (and really only) girlfriend in high school and I fooled around a lot. There was a lot of dry humping, under-the-shirt play, general teenage fumbling around. We even attempted ‘real’ sex once, although I don’t think either of us particularly enjoyed it. I know I didn’t get a ton out of it, and I’m pretty confident she didn’t either. (And I just broke all social conventions and sent her a Facebook message asking her about it, so maybe I’ll be able to know for sure! Craziness of the Internet!) She was the only person I was really sexual with until my college girlfriend, the one who continued to date me through much of my transition.

And I’ve never really enjoyed being the penetrator in penetrative sex. I’ll do it if a partner wants to, but am not really equipped – physically or emotionally – to do it particularly well. I think doing it with a strap-on might be more fun, but haven’t had the opportunity to try.

But sex of most any kind, during high school and college, seemed unfathomably confusing. I’m sure that’s true for most (all?) people, but I have a suspicion it’s doubly true for trans and queer folks. I didn’t like my body, didn’t want it, and yet it was still able to provide such please. I’d feel some guilt after masturbating, as it if was encouraging this body I didn’t want, this interaction with myself I would never have selected.

Going on hormons hasn’t changed the physicality of my cock – I can still get hard, for example – but it’s sure as hell changed how it works. I’ve discussed this before, so I don’t know that I need to totally delve into it. But my penis is so much more sensitive now. Stroking must be done with some amount of lubricant, or it’s unpleasant. Vibrators, previously uninteresting, have become a regular and important part of my sex life. And orgasms are much longer, more sustained, more difficult to obtain but so much more delicious when they’re achieved.

The way I think about my body has also changed the way I think about other people’s bodies. I’ve had sex with other trans women and interacted with their cocks (read: sucked and been fucked by) in ways I would never have imagined as a ‘lil baby teen. One of the things I’ve been realizing (and discussed in this post about online dating) isn’t that bodies are unimportant - I’m not ready to renounce my lesbian identity – but that they’re less important than I previously thought.

It’s interesting how quickly thinking about my penis turns to thinking about sex and sexuality. Not shocking, but interesting.  Because, to shift topics slightly, that’s not the only reason I’m considering surgery. It’s about body integrity, a sense of self and personal authenticity, feeling comfortable, all the bullshit cliches I’ve talked about before. But yeah, it’s also about sex.

I remember fantasizing that pure and unsullied desire could transform my penis into a vagina. That tucking it between my legs and wanting it enough would create the change. This was also about the time when I started reading trans fiction (something I haven’t posted about in a while…don’t worry, it’s on my to-do list) which meant I was exposed to tons of stories about magical transformations, medical and scientific transformations, totally and completely unexplained transformations. But, reading these stories, one thing was clear: the universe was full of genders transforming.

Ta da!

I didn’t honestly believe any of this was happening, mind you. I wasn’t really expecting to wake up one day with a vagina. To have my parents say “Whoops, there’s been a mixup. This is yours,” and hand me a box with a cunt. But I hoped like help. I even prayed, although I’m not totally sure to whom: Gods and goddesses and life-forces and universal energies and anyone who I thought might be listening and sympathetic.

This drifted away from a body map quite a few paragraphs ago. Maybe that’s OK. My psychic energy seems to be swirling around my crotch these days anyway. My continual (and occasionally successful) attempts to find dates or get laid. My constant ogling of the women around me. For example, the women coming in and out of this coffee shop as I type this. Women walking down the street. Especially women at the gym. I’m not at the point where I was a few months ago, when I thought (correctly, as it turned out) that my hormones were out of whack. But I’m a sexual person. More broadly, I’m a physical person. I like hugging and cuddling and touching, even if it’s non-sexual and simply sharing energy between friends. So yeah, a lot of my mental energy goes into thinking about sex, sexuality, body issues, gender issues, all that jazz.

Right now, my penis and I have an uneasy truce. We like each other, well enough. Being sexual is lots of fun, and I’m still (12 or 15 years later) masturbating regularly, even if the way I do it has changed a bit. But as I research surgeons and go on consults, it becomes more and more clear that our days are numbered. The relationship may not be drawing to a close – all the flesh and blood supplies and nerves will be reused in constructing a vagina, not simply tossed out with the trash – but we’re preparing for the biggest shift since I went on hormones, and probably the biggest change we’ll ever have.

I wonder how my penis feels about all of this. Is it exhausting, this exploration and discovery and potential (lets be honest: probable) surgery? Or is it exhilarating? Maybe I’m thinking about this whole thing the wrong way.

Maybe my cock is just as read to be a cunt as I am ready to have one.

My profile explicitly lists that I’m trans:

DISCLOSURE: I am trans. If that’s a problem, don’t message me.

DISCLAIMER: I don’t think I’m under any obligation to provide the above disclaimer. However, I am waaay to lazy to deal with the coming out conversation at this point in my life, so am willing to deal with the ramifications of disclosure.

GEEK: The above disclosures and disclaimers were originally written as HTML-style tags, but OKC apparently edits fake tags out, leading to this final stylistic choice.

And that pretty much says it for me: My disclosure on OKC is as much a result of laziness as of politics. But recently I’ve started using OKC in a different way, as a self-esteem–booster and emotion-explorer. And to do that I’ve done something radical. Something crazy. Something I feel extremely conflicted about and am continually second-guessing. I’ve changed my profile from ‘Lesbian’ to ‘Bisexual.’

To be clear, I don’t identify as bi. I hate being one of those too-cool queers who complains about OKC’s options, but I don’t think any of their sexuality choices – straight, gay, or bi – totally fit. I’ve described myself as ‘homoflexible’ (from the more commonly used of ‘heteroflexible’) but I’m not sure that works either. I enjoy flirting and dancing with guys, could imagine myself making out with one and enjoying it, don’t know that I’ll ever want to sleep with one but am not inherently opposed to the idea. For all of that, my primary attraction is to women. But after talking with a friend about the dearth of women contacting me on OKC, she suggested I try changing my profile to bi, as everyone knows bi women get contacted by shit-tons of guys.

And she’s right. Almost instantly after switching my profile to bi, I started getting ‘liked’ by guys, getting messaged by guys, getting propositioned by guys. And while I’ve instantly deleted nine out of every ten messages I’ve received, for one reason or another, its been a confidence boost and a self-esteem boost. I’ve gotten compliments on my performance videos, gotten into discussions about books listed on my profile, and just generally been flirted with. (I will say, from this very unscientific survey, guys are more likely than girls to send messages in which there’s no indication they read your profile. Which is obnoxious.)

I’m not sure where I’m going with this, though. Flirting is fun and all, and I realize that online dating profiles aren’t exactly expected to be flawless examples of truth and honesty, but I feel somewhat uncertain about what I’m doing. Part of it, I think, is from having invested so much time and energy into thinking of myself as someone who is only attracted to women. With so much of my identity and my presentation and my social interactions shifting over the transition, my sexuality has felt like a constant, even if I’ve gone from being perceived as straight to being perceived as gay – the people I’m attracted to hasn’t changed. And seeing guys at the gym doesn’t do it for me the way women do…this very afternoon I was working out on a treadmill and having a difficult time keeping my eyes off of the woman next to me, something that never happens with men.

But I could imagine saying ‘yes’ if the right guy on OKC asked me out, something I never would have considered a year ago.

It makes me think of a scientific study which said “ both heterosexual and lesbian women tend to become sexually aroused by both male and female erotica, and, thus, have a bisexual arousal pattern,” in contrast to men where their “sexual arousal show patterns that clearly track sexual orientation.” In short, men are turned on by what their sexuality would suggest – gay men turned on by men, straight men turned on by women – where women are turned on by everything, regardless of their sexuality. Now, it’s a small study, and it was conducted by the jackass J Michael Bailey, so I’m taking it with a grain of salt. Yet, as time passes, I’m realizing more and more I simply like being appreciated, regardless of the source of appreciation. I’d rather be hit on by a hot woman, but I’ll take a hot guy hitting on me over no attention at all.

I think.

So we’ll see. Maybe nothing will come of this, and in a day or a week or a month I’ll change my profile back to “lesbian.” Or maybe I’ll go on a few dates with guys, find the experience miserable, and do the same. But, regardless of the outcome, I plan to learn something about myself.

During the workshop, however, something came up that I had not previously considered. Specifically, someone asked about how trans youth are (medically) treated. I said that it varies, but that there’s an increasing use of hormone blockers to delay puberty. This allows a twelve or thirteen year old to age a few years and – hopefully – be able to make a more informed decision about transitioning. In my I-am-not-a-doctor opinion, it’s a good compromise: simply doing nothing can result in spending thousands of dollars to undo puberty, but launching fully into hormone replacement therapy opens the door to a twelve year old realizing they weren’t really trans at thirteen or fourteen.

Ultimately, I said to the questioner, there isn’t a perfect solution. Once a child realizes they’re trans, it’s a matter of picking the best choice from some bad options. Which, to be very clear, doesn’t mean that being trans condemns an individual to a life of misery. But it does, as far as I can see, necessitate some tough decisions and a difficult journey.

The questioner then posed something that has been bouncing around my brain this past week: Could allowing fifteen and sixteen year olds to be making informed consent decisions about their healthcare lead to the criminal justice system saying they were able to make informed decisions about crimes, and should thus be tried as adults?

I don’t think she was talking specifically about trans youth committing crimes, but looking at things from a more general question angle. That is, how do we as a society determine in which areas teens are able to make life decisions, and in which they’re not?

For the record, I am very against youth being tried as adults or sentenced to death.[1] At the same time, I do think teens should have some say over their healthcare. In particular, I know what my decision would have been had someone asked, “Do you want to go through puberty as a boy, or wait a bit and go through it as a girl?” There wouldn’t have been any question in my mind. But how do we – or can we – distinguish those areas of judgement?

The first thing that leaps to mind is the difference between “this decision impacts myself” and “this decision impacts others.” Transitioning, at its core, is about changing the self. Crime, at its core, is about impacting others. Which is really why crimes are, well, crimes.[2] So there’s a difference between a teen saying “I know enough about myself and my actions to change my body” and society saying “a teen knows enough about how their actions will impact others externally, so their crime should result in prosecution as an adult.”

But I know it’s not that simple. I can – looking back – say with 100% certainty, “I wish I had transitioned earlier, and I really wish I hadn’t gone through  puberty in the first place.” I know lots of trans people who would say the same thing. At the same time, as an educator who works with teens, it’s scary to think of a student of mine (let alone a child of mine) making such big decisions. Kids’ identities change so much from day to day, that – as an adult – believing something can be that constant feels like a leap of faith.

I suspect that one’s sense of gender, however, is fundamental enough and develops early enough for most people that – by fourteen or fifteen – they do know who they are. Or, at least, they can. Even if they don’t know how they’re going to express themselves, who they’re going to sleep with, what they want to do when they grow up. They can know who they are.

We can know who we are.

[1] – I’m also against the death penalty, period, but that’s only tangentially related to this topic.
[2] – This is why, in my opinion, drugs and prostitution should be legal, regulated, and safe.

On behalf of myself, and on behalf of all non-normatively-gendered individuals, I apologize. I am sorry for being confusing. For being scary. For being strange. For being icky. I am sorry for raising awkward questions about what female and male means. I am sorry for not fitting into one box or the other. I’m sorry for questioning the need for boxes at all. I’m sorry for androgyny and ambiguity and flexibility and spectra and rainbows of infinite possibilities.

I’m sorry for my body. I’m sorry for having breasts that are the result of orally-taken hormones and not of gonadally produced hormones. For having skin that is smooth due to those hormones and thousands of dollars of hair removal. I’m sorry for having a penis between my legs, being able to pee standing up, being an outie instead of an innie. I’m sorry shopping is such a chore, that I can’t wear those yoga pants or that ever-so-cute dress without tucking my cock up between my legs and securing it with medical tape, I’m sorry my boobs are nice and perky because they came in at 23 instead of 13. I’m sorry for my physical strength, something I’ll always doubt it’s from working out and assume it was from the testosterone coursing through my system for twenty-plus years. I’m sorry for my wide shoulders, my big feet, my hairy toes. I’m sorry for my occasionally ambiguous voice, for still occasionally getting “sir”ed on the phone, for causing double-takes. 

I’m sorry for being a sexual person. For enjoying to fuck and be fucked. In my mouth, between my legs, up my ass. For bending partners over and being bent over. I’m sorry that the sex is better than it ever was before transitioning, that my moans might keep you up at night, that the drawer next to my bed is filled with lube and vibrators and straps and butt-plugs. I’m sorry that I know my sexual topography better than you will ever know yours, because I’ve been forced to explore mine, blessed to explore mine, like a brave adventurer entering a strange new land. I’m sorry that my nipples grow like my cock grows like my need grows until it makes me want to scream and orgasms wreak my body until I vibrate like a tuning fork. I’m sorry for turning you on, making you wet, making you hard, for confusing your sense of sexuality and your sense of your self. I’m sorry you have to “figure some things out,” that you “aren’t sure what this means,” that you’ve “never been with someone like me before.”

I’m sorry for being so insistent. For refusing to use the private, single-stall bathroom and demanding to use the women’s room. For making a stink about names and pronouns. For calling you out when you get it wrong, over and over and over again. For being a voice of frustration and angst and depression.

I’m sorry for being so angry. For letting it boil and bubble and spill out of my mouth and onto the page and the stage and into my voice and through my spine. For standing tall and walking down the street. I’m sorry for my bitter tone, my condescending look, my frustrated sigh. I’m sorry my anger has crept up my body and through my veins and into my hair and my fingernails and my tear ducts until, like play-doh being squeezed through a tube, every pore of my body exudes my rage.

I’m sorry for wanting more. Legal protection, medical coverage, equal rights, safe bathrooms, safe jails, safe treatment from police and teachers and students and peers and strangers on the street. I’m sorry that I won’t step back, step aside, step down. I’m sorry, but that isn’t enough, it’s not good enough, I don’t see your point, I can’t compromise. I’m sorry that I’m tired (exhausted, really) of explaining at great length to you what seems so obvious to me.

I’m sorry, but I lied. I’m not sorry at all.

Exclusions. Covered expenses of the Plan shall not include … procedures, treatments, equipment, transplants, or implants, any of which are … for, or resulting from, a gender transformation operation. – 215 Illinois Compiled Statutes 105 – Comprehensive Health Insurance Plan Act

It’s unclear whether the State of Illinois has defined – through statute or the courts – what specifically “gender transformation operation” means. But it seems pretty safe to assume that the surgery I’m currently considering would fall under its purview. Surgery in which the “spongiform erectile tissue of the penis is removed, and the skin, with its nerves and vascular system (blood supply) still attached, is used to create a vestibule area and labia minora, which then are inverted into the neovaginal cavity created in the pelvic tissue.” That seems pretty gender transformative to me.

What’s interesting about the Illinois Comprehensive Health Insurance Plan Act (or the ICHIP Act) is what other injuries, procedures, and categories of coverage are excluded.  Gender transformation operations (item 14.iv on the list of exclusions) is lumped in with cosmetic surgery (item 1), anything which exceeds “reasonable or customary” cost (item 4), injury due to war (item 9) , services that are “not provided in accord with generally accepted standards of current medical practice” (item 14), contraceptives (item 19), weight loss programs (item 21), acupuncture (22). Interestingly enough, the act itself does not, as best as I could find, mention abortion or early termination of a pregnancy, but the ICHIP website stil says such services are excluded.

And then there’s my favorite exclusion. Item thirteen. “Blank.” The item isn’t actually blank, but the text reads open-parentheses-b-l-a-n-k-close-parentheses. Blank. I’m assuming there was an item thirteen, but it was removed by some later amendment I’ve been unable to find. Either that or the Illinois State Legislature was worried about the superstitious ramifications of having an exclusion number thirteen. But that seems unlikely, because there is a benefit item number thirteen (diagnostic x?rays and laboratory tests). The ways of government legislatures are opaque and confusing.

As far as I can tell, gender reassignment surgery (or gender transformation operation, or sex change, or whatever you want to call it) is the only accepted standard of medical practice (to use the ICHIP ACT language) explicitly excluded. Nowhere else did the Illinois Legislature say, “Doctors recommend this treatment. There are safe and reasonable guidelines for its use. It has been shown to be beneficial to patients. But there’s no way in hell we’re going to pay for it.”

Because the Illinois State Legislature is obviously the best-equipped body to decide medical coverage and treatment.

Dear Taylor,

I wish we could sit down and talk. I’d like to think you would be willing to have a conversation with someone who honestly wants to find common ground. I’ve watched your video, and it really moved me. You delivered your message with skill, grace, and emotion – I wish my high school students were as comfortable speaking in front of an audience as you clearly are.

That said, a lot of what was in your video was hurtful to me. I’m not sure if you meant to hurt my feelings, or the feelings of people like me, but your video was painful for me to see. Because I’m a transgender woman. That means that I was born in the body of a boy, but realized I was actually a girl. I’ve been on hormones for a few years now, to help my body match my mind. And a lot of the things you said about what it means to be transgender didn’t match my experience, or the experience of other trans people I know.

Since watching your video, I’ve been researching the Girl Scouts, and I’d like to print the Girl Scout Law, which I found here. I admit I don’t know a lot about Scouting, but I think The Girl Scout Law is a good place to start what I hope can be a conversation between you and I:

I will do my best to be
honest and fair,
friendly and helpful,
considerate and caring,
courageous and strong, and
responsible for what I say and do,
and to
respect myself and others,
respect authority,
use resources wisely,
make the world a better place, and
be a sister to every Girl Scout.

That’s a pretty good code of conduct to try and live by. I’m sure not every Girl Scout lives up to every bit, one hundred percent of the time, but I’m sure you try. I’d like to think that I’m honest and fair, friendly and helpful, and all the other positive qualities in the Girl Scout Law.

I don’t think your video was honest and fair, Taylor.

Transgender stuff can be confusing. Believe me, I know. But you got a few things wrong in your video, and I’d like to help correct them. I think it would make your video more honest and fair. Lets start with one of your video overlays. It’s near the beginning, and the text on your video said “Transgender Girl Scout = boy who wants to be a girl.”

I’m afraid that’s not what it means to be transgender. The simplest way to put it, although it’s really more complicated, is that our gender – what makes us a boy or a girl – is in our head, not between our legs. You aren’t a girl because of what’s between your legs. Neither am I. You’re a girl because you know you are one. That would be true if you had long hair or short, wore pants or dresses, painted your nails or played in the mud. Or did some of those things one day, and something else on another.

Likewise, I’m a girl because I know I am one. It’s a little more complicated for me, since what is between my legs doesn’t match what most people expect when they think ‘girl.’ But part of being respectful of others – something else the Girl Scout Law mentions – is letting every person decide for themselves who they are. I would never say that you need to enjoy playing with dolls, or be good at basketball, or know how to sail a boat. I don’t get to decide who you are; you get to decide that.

But that also means that you don’t get to decide who I am. What kind of books I like to read, who my friends are, or whether I’m a boy or a girl. No matter what I look like or sound like or anything. No one but me gets to decide whether I’m a boy or a girl.

And so when your video asked, in overlay text, “Is it safe to hide boys in Girl Scouts?” I didn’t really understand who was hiding. Because a transgender girl – like the one welcomed into a Colorado troupe – is a girl just like any other Scout. And to reject her, or any other girl, doesn’t seem very friendly or sisterly (two more qualities the Girl Scout Law emphasizes).

Your video also talks about safety, and that’s a very important issue. No Girl Scout – or anyone else – should ever be forced into a situation where they are unsafe. But why would a transgender Girl Scout – someone like me – make you any less safe than any other Girl Scout? To assume I would make you unsafe doesn’t seem respectful, considerate, or caring, three more qualities included in the Girl Scout Law.

Finally, I want to talk to you about Honest Girl Scouts, the organization you mention at the end of your video. Honest Girl Scouts doesn’t seem to follow the Girl Scout Law. It’s not a very nice website. It talks about Girl Scout council’s “entanglements with dubious issues.” Issues like access to informative, safe-sex education. Issues like equality and pride. It looks at all of those issues as bad, and Girl Scouts USA is bad for promoting them. Honest Girl Scouts may be honest, but it’s the honesty of a bully or a mean classmate you thought was a friend.

I hope this letter helped clarify some of the issues you raised in your video. Please let me know if you have any questions, and I wish you nothing but luck as you determine how best to be courageous and speak out for issues you believe in, while still being respectful of others.

Best,

-Rebecca

But for those of you who don’t have the energy to watch eight minutes of anti-trans rhetoric, or in case the video is taken down, here’s a transcript. I was as accurate as possible, and will be responding to the video (and the boycott) itself in a later post. There were text overlays throughout the video, but I included them only when they seem important. The video uses incorrect pronouns throughout.

Hello. I’ve been a Girl Scout for eight years. So why would I ask you to boycott Girl Scout cookies?

One reason is that I have  been taught by Girl Scouts to advocate for my beliefs and to discover, connect, and take action when I see something I want to change in the world.

The problem is what I want to help change is Girl Scouts. Right now, Girl Scouts of the USA (or GSUSA) is not being honest with us girls, its troupes, its leaders, its parents, or the American public. Do you know that in Oct 2011 Girl Scouts admitted that they allow transgender boys from kindergarten through the twelfth grade? In fact, CO Girl Scouts VP for Communications Rachel Trujillo was quoted in an article by Baptist Press. The article, entitled “Girl Scouts Admitting a Boy Draws Backlash,” has Ms Trujillo saying this,

“We accept all girls in kindergarten through 12th grade as members. If a child identifies as a girl, and the child’s family presents her as a girl, Girl Scouts of Colorado welcomes her as a Girl Scout.” [EDIT: I can't find this original article. If anyone can, I'd love to see it.]

That means that as long as a boy wants to be a girl, they’ll let him join based solely on his wishes and desires.

OVERLAY TEXT: “Transgender Girl Scout = boy who wants to be a girl”

Another part of the same article,

‘Councils can make these decisions on a case by case basis,’ Ms Trujillo said. ‘If a child is living as a girl, that’s good enough for us. We don’t require any proof of gender…”

But most disturbing to me and my family, is they also admitted to having already placed transgender boys throughout America without letting anyone know.

OVERLAY TEXT: “Is that honest…?”

Quote:

“Transgender children are currently serving in Girl Scout troops in the US, Trujillo said, although she declined to give details. “There are other councils that have transgendered girls and it’s working out fine,” she said.

So, what’s wrong with that? For one reason, Girl Scouts describes itself as an all girl experience.

OVERLAY TEXT: “Girl Scouts = no male”

With that label, families trust that the girls will be in an environment that is not only nurturing and sensitive to girls’ needs, but also safe for girls.

OVERLAY TEXT: “Is it safe to hide boys in Girl Scouts?”

In fact, the Girl Scout Research Institute has spent many thousands of dollars – dollars we raised for them through cookie sales and donations – making the argument that all-girl groups are important to girls in a publication called ‘Ten Emerging Truths: New Directions for Girls 11-17.”

In Ten Emerging Truths, they argue how important it is for girls to be free from a coed environment in a section called “Truth Number 4: Girls Connecting With Each Other Connects Them To You.” Let me read a couple of lines from this section:

“Among girls 11-17, 92% identified the top advantage of being in an all-girl group is that it allows you to relate to other girls because they are experiencing the same problems as you… You can talk about different things with girls that you just can’t with boys. You can just be yourself and who you are, not something that you’re not.”

They even have a chart on page 18 showing the data from their research, that in all-girl groups it is easier to:

• Relate to other girls
• Talk about issues you can’t talk about in front of boys
• Be yourself
• Look how you want to look

So if Girl Scouts claims they provide an all-girl experience, but then they admit boys without letting girls and their parents know about it, isn’t that deceptive?

OVERLAY: “Where do transgender boys sleep on overnights? Which bathrooms do they use?”

More importantly, for  years, Girl Scouts have required all leaders and volunteers to follow safety guidelines called Safety Wise. Regarding overnight safety, on page 88 this book states:

“Separate sleeping and bathroom facilities must be provided for adult males accompanying the group.”

So, if a man is not allowed to share a tent with girls, what would you call a  twelfth grade boy  who turns eighteen years old? Even more telling is a significant revision Girl Scouts made to Safety Wise, in a publication called Volunteer Essentials Chapter 4 (Safety Wise, October 11, 2011). That states:

“Ensure that no girl is treated differently. Girl Scouts welcomes all members, regardless of age, race, ethnicity, background, culture, sexual orientation, gender…”  [EDIT: I think the document she's referring to is this. The text she discusses is on page 17 and does, indeed, read as indicated.]

OVERLAY: Boys can join Girl Scouts regardless of their sexual orientation?

So Girl Scouts admits that different genders – or boys – can enter Girl Scouts and that they don’t require proof of their gender, either. Then really any boy can join Girl Scouts by simply saying he wants to be a Girl Scout. But the real question is, why is GSUSA willing to break their own safety rules and go against its own research institute findings to accommodate transgender boys?

Unfortunately, I think it is because GSUSA cares more about promoting the desires of a small handful of people than it does for my safety, and the safety of my friends and sister Girl Scouts. And they are doing it with money we earned for them from Girl Scout cookies and money we pay them for uniforms, books, patches, and anything with the Girl Scout logo on it. That is why I am connecting with you now. I am asking you to take action with me and boycott Girl Scout cookies. I ask all fellow Girl Scouts who want a true, all-girl experience not to sell any cookies until GSUSA addresses our concerns. I ask all parents of Girl Scouts who want their Girl Scouts to be in a safe environment to tell their leaders why you will not allow your girls to make any more money for GSUSA

There are better ways to fund troops. Try a garage sale. My troop did, and we earned more money in less time. We asked friends and family to just make a donation to our troop, instead of buying cookies. Every $5 donation, is equivalent to selling 8 to 13 boxes of cookies.

I also ask the American public to boycott purchasing Girl Scout cookies. There are better ways to support Girl Scout girls. You can still support your favorite Girl Scout without giving GSUSA more pocket money. Right now, GSUSA and councils are focused on adult agendas that have nothing to do helping girls.

OVERLAY: GSUSA funnels money to adult agendas like transgender promotion

Cookie sales enrich GSUSA and regional councils, allowing them to make unwanted changes to Scouting, without considering the people who are earning all that money for them: the girls and their families. The worst part is, they are not being honest with us. For more information on how Girl Scout organizations have moved away from serving girls and many, many more reasons to boycott Girl Scout cookies, go to honestgirlscouts.com

No one looks like they're enjoying this situation, to be honest

In Which A Question Is Asked

What does it mean to be a sexual trans person? A sexual trans woman?

Sidenote: I’m looking for my copy of Fucking Trans Women, an awesome e-zine available at http://fuckingtranswomen.com/. I know I bought and downloaded it, but am having trouble finding it. I emailed the site owners, tho, and hopefully they’ll be willing to send me another copy. At the very worst, I can spare another $5 for their great project.

Back on topic, I think being trans and sexual is tough for me (gonna try to use ‘I’ statements in this post, and not make generalizations) in part due to the huge variety of mixed messages I’ve received over the last 27 years. I’m sure I’m missing some categories, but here’s what I’ve come up with:

• Messages about male sexuality, even though I didn’t identify as male
• Messages about female sexuality, which I picked up even though I wasn’t yet presenting as female
• Messages about heterosexual sexuality, mainly from when I was presenting as a straight male
• Messages about queer sexuality, both before and after I came out
• Messages about specifically lesbian sexuality, again from both before and after I came out
• And last-but-never-least, messages about specifically trans sexuality, limited primarily to ‘chicks with dicks’ and ‘she-male’ porn

Again, I want to clarify that this post is going to be about my experiences. I’d love for people to chime in, but I’m not attempting to speak for anyone else, of any sexual orientation, gender identity, personal experience, etc, etc, etc. On the way I may make some wider generalizations about The Trans Sexual Experience, but my goal is much more to bring some clarity to my sexual experience, identity, and so on. So there.

I also think this is a good time to link to the these three posts I did on sex and the effects of hormones, back in late 2009. (Wow, two years ago?) Those used to be password protected, but are now public. Funny how my attitudes on privacy have changed in two years…hopefully posting all that stuff won’t come back to haunt me, but I gotsta say what I gotsta say.

Things I Wish I’d Known

TERRIFYING SEX ED DOLLS

I just re-read all three of those posts, and everything about them still stands as it relates to my early experience with sex and sexuality. Looking back now, I do think I was a lot more awkward than I thought I was at the time. That’s probably true for lots of people’s budding sexuality. But I think I owe my first major girlfriend an apology for what I can only imagine was a mediocre experience for her. I wish she’d spoken up, but I also wish I’d known how to ask what she wanted.

I also wish I’d come to an earlier realization that I don’t like being the penetrator in penetrative, penis-in-vagina sex. I don’t know if it’s the mental aspect of how I relate to my body, or the physical size of my ‘equipment,’ but I’ve never really enjoyed that kind of penetrative sex. I’ll do it, and – to clarify – I enjoy it enough that I’d rather do that than nothing… Mediocre sex is better than no sex, in my mind. I’m not totally sure – from my admittedly limited sample size – that the experience was great for my partners, either.

That’s perhaps the biggest thing I can point to and say “this was a lesson I learned being socialized as male, in a primarily heterosexual society.” I simply didn’t have a concept of sex outside of penis-in-vagina. Foreplay, fooling around, hooking up – there were lots of other ways to be sexual, but only one way to have sex.

Likewise, I imagine my (now mostly faded) hangups about anal sex and anal play came from being told – implicitly by culture, if never explicitly by anyone – that anal play was dirty, unpleasant, something for the penetrator and not the penetratee. That it was gay.

Fortunately, I’ve been honest enough with myself and with my body to realize that A) it’s not tooooo dirty if you do it right, and B) it (at least for me) it feels really good.

There’s still some lumped in baggage I possess, swirling around the ideas I picked up concerning male and female heterosexual, cisgender sexuality – basically my first three bullet points – which I’m going to lump together and call heteronormative : Who is supposed to initiate a sexual experience, how power dynamics are supposed to work between partners, all that stuff above about penetrative sex and anal sex and the definition of ‘real sex.’

As I become aware of those lingering hangups, I try to address them and think them through. Something I think I’ve really managed to turn around is my definition of sex: It’s not a specific act, it’s an experiential thing. My straight friends sometimes laugh when I call them out on this, but in my mind a blowjob or mutual masturbation or whatever is just as much sex (or, at least, can be just as much “sex”) as penetrative, penis-in-vagina, “real sex.”

Last Friday Night

Friday was a good friend’s birthday. A bunch of mutual friends had dinner, came back to my apartment for some drinks, and went out to a club. Usually I don’t join for that last part (something I’ve mentioned before). But this weekend, for whatever reason, the stars aligned and I was ready to go out. So we all headed down to The Apartment, a bar/club in Chicago near the wealthy Lincoln Park neighborhood. The dancing was kind of ridiculous (as dancing tends to be) but the music wasn’t horribly obnoxious, I had my first experience taking a drink from an ice luge, and was generally having a good time.

I'd like to imagine we looked something like this

Our group was dancing in a little clump, and whenever a stranger would come up and start to dance with me I’d politely (I hope!) turn or move away to make it clear I wasn’t interested. I’m realizing that in and of itself probably would have freaked me out a few years ago, so it’s a sign of how far I’ve come in my comfort presenting as a woman that it didn’t phase me.

But I was a few (more) drinks in and feeling loose when I felt someone’s hands – a stranger’s hands – on my hips from behind.

A pause to say that nothing bad happens. I feel like this story is progressing to the point where it seems everything will end badly, but it doesn’t: I’m not raped or sexually assaulted, my friends don’t abandon me, nothing bad happens. This is just about my processing a new experience, and my emotional reactions to it. So you are absolved from worrying about my safety for the remainder of this story.

We continue dancing, this strange man pressed up behind me. His hands go up and down my hips, and I gently move them when I feel they’re getting too frisky. I’m still facing my group of friends, regularly making eye contact with them and non-verbally communicating that I’m OK. (They kept doing the raised-eyebrow checkin, to which I’d smile and shrug.)

After a few minutes dancing, I decided I was done and turn to the guy (much shorter than I expected, but then I’m already tall and was in heels) and said I was going to the bathroom. He actually asked if he could join, which I think is kind of hilarious, but I declined and we parted ways.

Two of my friends followed me to the bathroom to check on me, for which I was grateful but didn’t think I needed. But then while I was in the bathroom (actually in a stall; I don’t think either of them know this part) I had a mini panic attack. Suddenly, those two big worries I’d pushed aside came to the forefront:

• What if he found out I was trans?
• What did my enjoying dancing with a (presumably) straight cis man mean about my own sexuality?

Questions Beget Questions

The first question is more pragmatic. I was in a very public place, surrounded by friends (including some large men who look intimidating) and wasn’t reeeeaaalllyyy concerned for my physical safety. I could have been emotionally hurt, quite severely in fact, if he’d moved his hands a little too far south and subsequently freaked out. But I don’t think there’s a realistic chance I could have ended up as an other Trans Day of Remembrance statistic. Which feels kind of good, that my friends were providing that (literal) safety net.

The second question is a lot more difficult to tease out.

I'm going to recommend AGAINST performing a Google Image Search on 'transgender sex' with SafeSearch disabled

I have lots of straight, cis, female friends who enjoy dancing with other straight, cis, females. (Some of them were doing so at this bar on Friday.) But no straight, cis, male friends who enjoy dancing with other straight, cis, males except when being silly. But I don’t think simply enjoying male attention inherently “breaks” my lesbianism. At the same time, there’s a different between being ideologically OK with some action, and then finding yourself in a situation where you have to evaluate how it actually makes you feel.

What I’m leaning more and more is that I simply enjoy attention. Period. I’m not sure how to respond to male attention, what to do about it, where I want it to go, but if I’m being honest with myself I do enjoy it. But there’s something scary, for me, to be on the receiving end of it. First is all that trans baggage of physical safety and stories of rape and beatings and death. Something which is also true for cis women in many ways, but I don’t think there’s quite the same cultural acceptance of violence and sexual assault against cis women as there is against trans women At least not so explicitly: You can find talking heads on news stories to cast doubt on the inherent sanctity of a trans woman’s body in a way that few are willing to do (publicly) about cis women’s bodies.

So what do I do with that male attention?

Coupled in with that is my continuing surprise and delight at being perceived as a ‘real’ woman, let alone an attractive one. I’m still so doubting go my appearance, in spite of all reassurances to the contrary, that there’s an aspect of shock that some random dude at a club would want to dance with me.

More importantly, though, is that bullet-point list of baggage from the beginning of this post. There’s still some hindbrain part of my psyche which thinks of me as male, as dancing with “another” man as a (male) gay act. Which is bullshit, and something I was able to drink myself out of believing, when my inhibitions were down and I wasn’t over-thinking every little thing. On the flip side, I’ve invested quite a bit of emotional energy into defining my sexuality as ‘lesbian,’ and while I’ve been recently question that for the more open-ended ‘queer’ I’m still not totally sure what that means for me.

That Whole Surgery Thing

Then there’s the final bit of this post’s title: Surgery. I’m still doing my research, but have basically narrowed down my selection to Drs Bowers (San Fran), McGinn (Philly), and Brassard (Montreal). I’m moving right now to schedule consultations with all three.

But what does surgery mean? There’s a part of me that – only somewhat jokingly – thinks that I’ll feel permission to slut it up, with my major worry of being ‘discovered’ as trans inverted up inside me. There’s exploration many people do in high school and college that I feel I missed out on.

At the same time, surgery becomes one more terrifying (and awesome and exciting, but also terrifying) ‘virginity’ to lose, both metaphorically and literally.

So, returning to my initial question, what does it mean to be a sexual trans woman? Hell if I know. I think it means all of this: this discovery, this forging my own path. Not only do I not want to follow a prescribed path to my sexuality, I don’ think there is one. There aren’t enough trans narratives to feel like I have the ability to find many ‘just like me’ role models out there. That isn’t to say I haven’t drawn from the experiences of others. Whipping Girl, Yes Means Yes, The Ethical Slut, How To Get What You Really Really Want, Cunt; these books (and authors) have all heavily impacted how I think of myself as a sexual being.

But I think I have to find the rest of the way myself.

“CHIP will not pay for any expense or charge:” (pg 31) ”for services, drugs or supplies that are for, or resulting from, surgery or surgeries performed in connection with sexual reassignment or gender transformation;” (pg 32)

Financial Institution. “Financial institution” means any bank, credit union, insurance company, mortgage banking company or savings and loan association which operates or has a place of business in this State. (Emphasis added)

Civil Rights Violations: Loans. It shall be a civil rights violation for any financial institution, on the grounds of unlawful discrimination, to…. Provide any person with any service which is different from, or provided in a different manner than, that which is provided to other persons similarly situated.