*Warning: this post is about sex.
So I’ve been slowly becoming sexually active again, after having stuck to make-outs during the beginning of my physical transition. In spite of my extremely high sex drive when I first started T (it has slowed some since then), I found that identifying as trans made me feel in some ways more dysphoric about sex than before, even once I began to feel more at home in my body. This is because before I claimed a trans male identity, there were no particular taboos I had to negotiate concerning sex. People would assume that they could touch me anywhere and do anything to me, and it would not change the way they thought of me if and when I let them do so. On the other hand, I would have to deal with the ick of feeling that, during certain sexual encounters, partners were treating me like a woman and wonder why that felt so strange.
Once I claimed trans maleness, I became preoccupied with ascertaining that both my partner and myself were able to experience my body as male (or at least as trans male) during sex. It was no longer acceptable for partners to perceive me as a woman, even a masculine one, in a sexual situation. But this created several new taboos.
With queer women: on anything that might resemble “lesbian” sex – a category so nebulous as to potentially swell to encompass any act one could imagine performing with a woman anyhow. But also, if I were having sex with a woman and I was a man, then it seemed to me that there needed to be clear demarcations of difference between each of our bodies. And since our bodies might, in the end, look objectively similar, this would mean a difference in what could be done to each of our bodies – meaning that I would not be able to get fucked. No, not by a woman.
However, to have sex with a gay cis man would produce a whole new set of anxieties. How would I get off? I would have to either be fucked in the front hole or get my dick sucked or jerked off. But would my dick be seen as a dick by gay cis men? And could they really fuck me in my front hole without either me feeling powerfully dysphoric or them getting grossed out? Grossing out a gay cis man would probably be the worst sexual experience I could imagine.
This left other trans and genderqueer people, about whom I certain had fewer qualms, sexually. But ultimately, I did want to be able to negotiate satisfying sex with cis women or gay cis men without having to worry about my gender getting out of whack.
Yesterday, I had a gay threesome with a trans guy (chest surgery, no hormones), and his cis boyfriend. I had already hooked up with the cis guy once, and that was cool. We stuck to non-penetrative stuff and I barely felt self-conscious at all. The real revelation, though, was when the trans guy joined us. This was partly because this involved a more elaborately planned scene with a range of sexual and kink acts, and partly simply because it gave me the chance to observe another gay trans guy in action.
When it’s just me having sex with someone, I can worry that some act or some body part is not being experienced as male by the other person. I am inside my body, which is a confusing enough place to be, and it’s hard to imagine what this body seems like in the midst of sex to someone on the outside of it. Watching the trans guy have sex / watching myself have sex with him was a little bit like getting to watch myself have sex from the outside and getting to watch myself do at least one thing that, out of fear, I have not yet done. In this process, what I found powerfully reassuring was the fact that he was so clearly and obviously male the entire time, even with his high voice, even when I was jerking him off, even when the cis guy was fucking his front hole, and even when I was fucking his front hole. For instance, when I was fucking him from behind, I was relieved to verify that a trans guy’s front hole is not a vagina, it is just a second or “bonus” hole. Now I already knew this, of course, but it was revelatory to experience, from the outside, that this was so obviously the case. Phew.
Now, I know that he and I are different people with different bodies and different sexual styles, but seeing him do all these things that I was afraid of without it impacting his maleness in the slightest – in his eyes, my eyes, or his boyfriend’s eyes – gave me hope that I could do them too one day soon without fear of sexual dysphoria.