I’ve always had a hard time coming to terms with the idea of transition, of having a moment or series of moments that define a transition. On one hand, it’s kind of a perpetual thing with a few very distinct mile markers; but then on the other hand, every life is a life in transition and it really is only those distinct mile markers that make it possible to differentiate between mine and yours and someone else’s.
I get to thinking about this kind of stuff whenever I have something going on with my trans-ness; whether that be dealing with hormones or meeting a new potential partner or figuring out a new way that I like to have sex. Sometimes they happen sporadically and it’s doesn’t really phase me that my trans-ness is more apparent then (when I’m coming out or picking out a new dick or whatever), but other times they happen all together and it just kind of hits me like a freight train.
For a while now my hormone levels have felt pretty wonky, but I’m all headstrong and whatever so I’ve chosen not to go to the doctor. I’ll be rectifying this mistake this week, but this has been a big weight on my shoulders for months and months.
Meanwhile I met Steph and we’ve been having this amazing sexual relationship. We have some awesome sex and part of it has been exploring ways of having sex that I didn’t think I’d be ok with. Being ok with having sex in whichever way I like is actually pretty anxiety inducing. Basically, we escalated from pegging (her strapping in and me receiving anal) to what I call “front pegging” (her strapping in and me receiving in the… front hole…). Now, being a guy (and a manly-man-guy at that), it’s quite scary to suddenly realize that apparently I like dick-like-things in my front hole. What does that mean? Should I be concerned that I made a mistake somewhere? Am I different now? The short answer is: nothing, probably not, and no. The long answer is: bodies feel pleasure so I guess mine is working pretty well, definitely not but kudos to me for finding a new way to get off, and no other than coming harder than I’ve ever before.
Alright, so wonky hormones and fun new sex aside, I’ve also decided that I want a way for me to wear my packer when I go swimming. This is such a common issue with trans dudes, and we know by now that when there’s a void, I like to provide a solution. So, I’m working out a version of a backing harness that I think will work well, but this seems to be putting my trans-ness on the forefront of my mind more often than any of the other things that I should be thinking about. Am I having some sort of internal trans revolution or liberation? Am I suddenly embracing my trans-ness?
What I struggle with is that while my thoughts seem to be very trans-focused the way that I just described them, they don’t seem that way to me. My hormone levels are messed up, and while this stems from being trans, I see it as a basic medical need. To me, it’s a chronic medical issue, but it’s not really any different than my boss’ bum knee or my coworker’s IBS in the way I go about dealing with it. All couples explore their sexual needs and desires together, sometimes that means that one person second guesses themselves and what they want or how they want, and how great that Steph and I are able to do so with such passion and understanding of each other. As for the packer harness, I can’t be the only guy in the world who doesn’t like swimming with my wang flapping around in my shorts, so I hardly think that even this SPECIFIC goal is all that different; I just happen to be doing something about it.
Life is a weird place. It’s always changing, evolving, backtracking, giving you hindsight and wisdom; a constant transitional phase.
Just when I think that I’m exceptionally different, I remember that I’m just as different as everyone else.