A friend of many years asked me a question that you really shouldn’t ask a transgender person unless you’re close enough to have laughed about how neither of you are sexually attracted to one another. In other words, I’m really close with them and comfortable with satisfying their curiosity and concern. For the sake of taking a bit of the mystery away from others honestly wondering to understand a little more deeply about a trans female’s mindset, I’m sharing this unique, juicy, and mildly insightful information.
That’s the only reason why you’re here, right? So, the question was:
Will your decision to be intimate with someone be based on how you feel about your genitals? Like…they’re okay with you as you are, but I know you’re not.
Honestly, I had no idea how to answer that. As someone who has virtually shoved nearly all manner of sexual thoughts and hopes into a deep, dark closet, I really didn’t want to care enough to answer. But I gave myself a moment to really think about all the possibilities that immediately separate me from all the typical cisgender females in the world. All these concerns and fears that swam through my mind – if they didn’t know I was trans* and things got heated, or if they knew and somehow had a different expectation of what it would be like, or how uncomfortable I would be regardless because of how viscerally I’d be reminded of my inadequacies in the presence of another…
My answer was simple.
I don’t expect to be sexually intimate with anyone for a very long time. If ever. Whether I am intimate with anyone will depend on so much more than just my body. And if they’re okay with me as I am now, I still don’t think I’d ever be okay with thinking, even for a moment, about the possibility that I am being fetishized.
As a trans* girl, I want to be loved, cared for, and given attention just like any other female. Except for the additional scenarios regarding genitalia and the possibility of being raped or killed out of rage…we are not very different. What it means to be a woman is something I’ll be learning for as long as I live, but lately I’ve been coming to terms that I’ll never be able to bear a child. That I’ll never have a proper period. That I’ll never have to take a pregnancy test. That I very well may never experience and be able to offer the level of intimacy and tactile affection that are typical of being female.
Basic every day things that I thought I’d be able to ignore and shrug off have gradually crept into my heart and left me crying on the inside. I’ll always be this anomaly – passing physically, well attuned to girl talk, stirring the sexual curiosity of various people – but never quite being complete. Accepting the body that I have, yet crushed by the reality of being denied experiences I deserve.
Then I wonder what will I do if my significant other is unable to do the things I should be able to do. A surrogate just…I just wouldn’t want that. Though I make no point to hide that I’m transgender, thoughts like this make me feel like a broken failure. Though I’m strong enough to not allow my emotions to tear me apart, I’m still hurting.
Intimacy in itself remains a strange mystery to me, regardless of who I’ve messed around with. And the thought of someone wanting to be intimate with me is honestly pretty unfathomable at this point, regardless of how much I love myself now more than ever.