Comments (3) I’ve been thinking about sex. With men.
This isn’t something I’m sure I want to do – now or ever – but it’s something thathas been on my mind for a long time. And, as my transition had progressed and I’ve moved from being perceived as a man to being perceived as a woman, the idea has seemed less and less outlandish.
It’s kind of like being a vegetrarian.
Enter your password to view comments. 
The obligatory 'queer sexuality' symbol
A while back, beo_shaffer asked how I feel (sexually) about “people with non-binary gender [and] about other transsexuals?” I’ve been thinking a lot about it since then, and realized I don’t have a quick-and-easy answer. So I’m going to use this post to talk about beo’s question, but also to more broadly consider my own sexuality.
I identify as a lesbian. And I think, to some extent, that means I’m saying that binary genders are important to me sexually. Or, at the very least, that I perceive people within binary gender categories, even though politically I don’t think we should see people that way and it’s something I’ve tried to overcome when I notice myself doing it.
At the same time, I do find the idea of penetration to be a turn on. I know penetration is not an inherently heterosexual act, but I’ve been exposed to 25+ years of heteronormative culture and I do associate the two to some extent. While I’m coming to understand a much wider (and healthier) concept of sexuality – one not so penis-in-vagina-centric – most erotica I’ve read has been heterosexual. Mainly because I can’t find reliably good lesbian erotica. (Suggestions welcome!) And while I’ve never found a specific man to be attractive, the theoretical idea of being with a man sexually is interesting to me. (Probably due in no small part to the copious amounts of erotica I’ve read over the years…)
To put it another way, I feel like I’d probably be a five on the Kinsey Scale – I could imagine having fun in a heterosexual sexual experience, but it’s not what primarily ‘does it’ for me.
Continue reading 'Sex and sensibility: thinking about attraction'»
I’m going on a date tonight (oooh) and a coworker was joking with me about it. “Don’t put out! By which I mean do put out. Or hopefully she’ll put out.”
I laughed, and shot back, “You suck!”
Which of course made her respond, “I don’t, but hopefully she will! Wait, that doesn’t work…”
I almost reminded her that, no, the parts I have does let that joke work. But just kept my mouth shut and smiled.
(And don’t worry, I’ll do a post on how the date went.)
It’s been a while, I know, but I figured it was time to finish off some of these questions. Lets go!
“Bottom” surgery usually means sex reassignment surgery (SRS) and I think “want’ is a tricky word to use here. If the Vagina Fairy came through my window (no, not that one) to wave her wand and give me a pussy, I’d say “Yes!” in a heartbeat. I’d also say that I do want to have had SRS, in the same way I want to have learned a foreign language: I want the results, but don’t want to go through the pain and suffering to get there. But do I want to have surgery at some point in the future?
I’m not sure.
Continue reading 'Questions on being trans, from highschoolers (pt 5)'»
emotion, gender, sex, trans, transitioning
| 
questions, sex, trans, transitioning
I’m looking for some 1950s sex ed videos as part of something I’m thinking about for my next show, and thought I’d share. The restrictions on square dancing are near the end, around 4:30. (You can picnic while men-stru-ating, thank goodness!)
Enter your password to view comments. 
One of the questions I’m sometimes asked is whether or not there’s anything I regret about transitioning. Generally I either say “Nope!” or comment on how I missed the testosterone-fueled muscles I had pre-hormones, but not much else.
As summer approaches – and Chicago experiences an unseasonable streak of 70+ degree weather in early April – it made me realize I do miss one other thing: going topless.
I’ve had a link sitting in my ‘To Write About’ folder for a while: Reclaiming trans sexualities: A personal manifesto of sorts, from over at Questioning Transphobia. I’ve been wanting to respond to it, but haven’t been sure where to start. The post itself talks about the tangled relationship between the sexual and the political for many trans people:
When I began talking [about what I liked doing, sexually] I didn’t discuss the things lovers have done I’ve really liked or dynamics which I find hot, instead I found myself explaining my sometimes difficult relationship with cissexual queer women as a group and as individuals, the fucked-up attitudes about trans women I’ve encountered in various communities, the mistrust I have because of the history trans women have with cissexual queers – all of the things I write about and do activism on which intersect with sex, but I had nothing to say about the actual sex I have or would like to have. I stopped myself and apologized for not answering the question, then sat back to consider this sudden disheartening awareness of how deeply my sexuality is entangled with the politics in which I am active.
This spoke to me because of what I’ve felt recently as an uphill climb toward finding a relationship. First, I’ve been socialized in the rituals of straight sexuality. I didn’t buy into them for myself, but I did end up with a peer group that is almost exclusively straight and cis. So while I see friends all around me meeting people, hooking up with people, being introduced to friends of friends, I feel kind of left out.
At some point in college, my high school friends and I constructed a ‘sex map.’ I think we used dotted lines for making out or hooking up, and solid lines for sex.
I was the lone dot.
Just finished watching the latest 30 Rock. I do love their take on the Comcast takeover of NBC, as they’re spot on: Comcast provides no minimal service to its customers. (She says, typing away on a computer connected to the Internet via Comcast.)
But the final twist in the episode was “Kablevision” (the 30 Rock stand-in for Comcast) attempting to double its porn profits by providing “porn for women.” Specifically, attractive male models who will look at the camera while smiling and nodding. All for $24.99 an hour. Because the only thing women want is “to jabber,” which conflicts with the only thing men think about: sex. They take the train of thought to its logical conclusion, with one character saying “I mean, I’m more than a pair of ears! I’m a brain, too! A brain that thinks about sex every seven seconds.”
Well, xkcd said it best:
Continue reading '30 Rock on the ‘porn for women’ bandwagon too?'»
Panorama Theme by 
Themocracy
