I've been meaning to write this for a while, but haven't managed to find the time in my normal pre-sleep time. A few weeks ago I managed to have my first orgasm post surgery. The mechanics aside, it was a an intense experience.
Outside the muscle and pleasurable aspects. While I was cleaning up and showering, I started to laugh, and cry, as this wave of mirth and contentment washed over me. There was just this ocean of warmth and relaxation that came in getting that weight and worry off me. I had been really anxious about not being able to orgasm since my previous attempts had been unfruitful. I'd started to think I was just broken, and doomed to a life of unfulfilled sex, and unfulfilled relationships. Sex, is, and was, a huge part of my life. It's always been the catalyst for the emotional intimacy that I crave. It's when I'm my most open and vulnerable, and sharing that mental space, with someone who is just as vulnerable, and connected with me, is, well, it's like no other feeling I have.
In the past, that love has always had a sideline of shame, of incongruence, dissonance, and disharmony. Sex was always like a musical chord with one note slightly out of tune. You got most of what you wanted to hear, but it wasn't right. It was that slight drizzle when you wanted pouring rain, the inch of snow when you wanted three to close down schools. I always got the sense that what I felt was..close enough to what it should be. But it never felt whole.
In that orgasm, I left behind all the surgery baggage. I've no regrets or worries about it anymore.
But also, in that orgasm, I left behind all the negative body shame and baggage that I've felt in every previous orgasm. That emotional self-disparaging wave of shame that always followed like the bad comic that always seems to open for your favorite act. Experiencing the bliss of an intense body orgasm, with no negative emotional baggage of shame or the normal self-loathing that I'd contained, and quartered, and carted off into their own little mental spaces, was..well..enough for me to cry tears of joy for the first time in my life. It was mind-shattering, and world shaping.
It's such a strange place to be in. I promised myself I'd rip open every ugly root of my experience that I didn't like. So far, so good.
The evening that followed said experience, was filled with good friends, and a party, that involved a good fifty people cheering, celebrating, and toasting, to my orgasm. It's a surreal moment that I don't think I'll ever forget. It was, fantastic, and awe inspiring.
It feels, weird to be happy again. Which, in itself is a sad statement. I'm glad to be where I am, not that I'm satisfied however.
6.22.2015
6.10.2015
Not even my final form.
It feels weird to be trans now. That might seem, like an odd statement, so let me explain.
For a long time I've distanced myself from the trans community because I felt ashamed of being trans. That, largely from terrible people teaching me it was something to be ashamed of, meant that being in the trans community meant facing my trans status. I acknowledged it, and dealt with it, but it was never celebrated. It was too painful to celebrate. I'm sure there's a post here from years ago where I can't imagine how or why anyone would celebrate or take pride in being trans. It felt like taking pride in being disfigured or injured, sure you can celebrate surviving it, but no one celebrates the fact that you are it.
That..feels different now. I know this is, sort of shitty of me to admit, but it feels much more acceptable for me to label myself trans, now that I don't have to deal with the worst aspect of it. Being post-op, I gain a great deal of privilege that most trans folk don't have to deal with. I no longer have to have "that conversation" with people about my genitals. I no longer have to stress out about if a person I'm into, is going to abandon me because my parts don't match what they're expecting.
I have this routine every time I shower. I get out, I dry off, and while I dry off my legs, I lean over and try to touch my toes. It feels nice as a stretch, and also, coincidentally puts me eye level at my parts. For years..YEARS this moment was filled with some combination of animosity, hatred, shame, loathing, or at best ambivalence. This routine continues now, but it's never filled with any of those feelings.
I look in the mirror, and think, is this the body I always wanted (mostly), is this how I wanted to look? This all seems like shit I should have thought about in Thailand, but to be honest so much of that time is spent in a hazy clusterfuck of healing and therapy and crazyness that you never get much downtime to just sit, and stare, and think about how insane it is to have something, you've dreamed about for the last 19 years. I get teary eyed if I stare at it, and this weird smirk, it's sad to me, that being comfortable in my body, in how it moves, and how it looks at different angles feels so foreign. I'm glad, but also sad that it took this long just to feel normal.
I feel like a trans ally now, rather than a member of the community. Do I have any right to carry that flag now that I don't have to deal with as many of the negative aspects of it? I suspect I do, but I'm not sure.
The other side of this, is I have this strange confidence and assuredness in expressing my sexuality that I never had before. It feels very strange, and okay to post nude photos without feeling disgust or shame. I find myself flirting more, and being a lot more open and expressive with my body and sexuality. I was always a very sexually drive person, I love that connection and intimacy that I have with people, but so much of it was bottled and restrained (really should be a bondage pun here) by dealing with the trans shame that it came out in (heh) small, isolated spurts. It was always a restrained confidence, one of first acts only, one I couldn't pursue in front of people, or at my own whim. It had to always be carefully planned and organized as to avoid being seen.
Now though, well, I'm no longer bound by that shame. I'm as light as the wind, as strong as the sea, and I won't be bound by any such small thing again.
For a long time I've distanced myself from the trans community because I felt ashamed of being trans. That, largely from terrible people teaching me it was something to be ashamed of, meant that being in the trans community meant facing my trans status. I acknowledged it, and dealt with it, but it was never celebrated. It was too painful to celebrate. I'm sure there's a post here from years ago where I can't imagine how or why anyone would celebrate or take pride in being trans. It felt like taking pride in being disfigured or injured, sure you can celebrate surviving it, but no one celebrates the fact that you are it.
That..feels different now. I know this is, sort of shitty of me to admit, but it feels much more acceptable for me to label myself trans, now that I don't have to deal with the worst aspect of it. Being post-op, I gain a great deal of privilege that most trans folk don't have to deal with. I no longer have to have "that conversation" with people about my genitals. I no longer have to stress out about if a person I'm into, is going to abandon me because my parts don't match what they're expecting.
I have this routine every time I shower. I get out, I dry off, and while I dry off my legs, I lean over and try to touch my toes. It feels nice as a stretch, and also, coincidentally puts me eye level at my parts. For years..YEARS this moment was filled with some combination of animosity, hatred, shame, loathing, or at best ambivalence. This routine continues now, but it's never filled with any of those feelings.
I look in the mirror, and think, is this the body I always wanted (mostly), is this how I wanted to look? This all seems like shit I should have thought about in Thailand, but to be honest so much of that time is spent in a hazy clusterfuck of healing and therapy and crazyness that you never get much downtime to just sit, and stare, and think about how insane it is to have something, you've dreamed about for the last 19 years. I get teary eyed if I stare at it, and this weird smirk, it's sad to me, that being comfortable in my body, in how it moves, and how it looks at different angles feels so foreign. I'm glad, but also sad that it took this long just to feel normal.
I feel like a trans ally now, rather than a member of the community. Do I have any right to carry that flag now that I don't have to deal with as many of the negative aspects of it? I suspect I do, but I'm not sure.
The other side of this, is I have this strange confidence and assuredness in expressing my sexuality that I never had before. It feels very strange, and okay to post nude photos without feeling disgust or shame. I find myself flirting more, and being a lot more open and expressive with my body and sexuality. I was always a very sexually drive person, I love that connection and intimacy that I have with people, but so much of it was bottled and restrained (really should be a bondage pun here) by dealing with the trans shame that it came out in (heh) small, isolated spurts. It was always a restrained confidence, one of first acts only, one I couldn't pursue in front of people, or at my own whim. It had to always be carefully planned and organized as to avoid being seen.
Now though, well, I'm no longer bound by that shame. I'm as light as the wind, as strong as the sea, and I won't be bound by any such small thing again.
6.04.2015
A Eulogy for a Relationship
Fights come and go, as do partners. She came and got her stuff, without issue. The goodbye was a bit awkward and, for me, a bit sadly nonchalant. Though I'm the hopeless romantic of our pairing (and most to be honest). The week since has been mostly trouble free. A few down moments that get combined into messy balls of depression, but overall more just peaceful, calm, sadness, rather than outright heart ache or grieving loss that it used to be.
I think about her on occasion, which, is going to happen. I'm not beating myself up for that, as I did with prior relationships. There are times where I'm longing for something, and unsure what it is, that I think she becomes a focal point for a lot of things, simply out of familiarity. It's a longing for a relationship (I think), and that intimacy and connection that is no longer there. Not necessarily a longing for her, specifically.
That's all rehash though. Closing the book on that chapter does my heart good, for all the loss it brings. I promised myself I'd be ruthless this year in changing what I was unhappy with. I almost have to force myself to be selfish in doing what is right for me, rather than thinking of other people's needs and wants first. That is what ends up keeping me in places where I'm taken advantage of, or throwing away good emotional energy at a lost cause.
A few things did come up in processing all this though. On some level, a part of me is exceedingly angry that I put up with people who treat me like shit, or who refuse to take my feelings into consideration. I'm not quite sure why it is that I stick myself to people and give them chance after chance after chance to prove me wrong, when I know they only continue to disappoint me with their selfishness.
I should have ended things when she wouldn't compromise with me on our relationship boundaries. When it became a dictatorship, with only her needs being considered by her, it was over. Yet I stayed for another six months, watching it slowly deteriorate and rot from the inside thinking I could somehow save it. When really, neither one of us had the strength to just end things then and there.
I blame that on myself. For all my emotional strength, I fall into a trap of romance. I talk myself into doing emotionally irrational actions. I tell myself "but what if this is the last time I see her" or "what if I just needed to do this one thing to fix this". Despite the fact I know people don't change. It is just a part of me. The source of my sweetness and compassion is also the source of my idiocy and unperceptive stupor. Love blind in a true sense.
At this point, I deal with the loss, and the stray thoughts, and I move on with my life. As I've done with so many other relationships. There are many other opportunities for change I need to breach, and new folks to meet that are hopefully a bit more compatible. I have an idea of where I want my life to go, it's just a matter of getting there. And hopefully, managing to not destroy myself on the way.
I think about her on occasion, which, is going to happen. I'm not beating myself up for that, as I did with prior relationships. There are times where I'm longing for something, and unsure what it is, that I think she becomes a focal point for a lot of things, simply out of familiarity. It's a longing for a relationship (I think), and that intimacy and connection that is no longer there. Not necessarily a longing for her, specifically.
That's all rehash though. Closing the book on that chapter does my heart good, for all the loss it brings. I promised myself I'd be ruthless this year in changing what I was unhappy with. I almost have to force myself to be selfish in doing what is right for me, rather than thinking of other people's needs and wants first. That is what ends up keeping me in places where I'm taken advantage of, or throwing away good emotional energy at a lost cause.
A few things did come up in processing all this though. On some level, a part of me is exceedingly angry that I put up with people who treat me like shit, or who refuse to take my feelings into consideration. I'm not quite sure why it is that I stick myself to people and give them chance after chance after chance to prove me wrong, when I know they only continue to disappoint me with their selfishness.
I should have ended things when she wouldn't compromise with me on our relationship boundaries. When it became a dictatorship, with only her needs being considered by her, it was over. Yet I stayed for another six months, watching it slowly deteriorate and rot from the inside thinking I could somehow save it. When really, neither one of us had the strength to just end things then and there.
I blame that on myself. For all my emotional strength, I fall into a trap of romance. I talk myself into doing emotionally irrational actions. I tell myself "but what if this is the last time I see her" or "what if I just needed to do this one thing to fix this". Despite the fact I know people don't change. It is just a part of me. The source of my sweetness and compassion is also the source of my idiocy and unperceptive stupor. Love blind in a true sense.
At this point, I deal with the loss, and the stray thoughts, and I move on with my life. As I've done with so many other relationships. There are many other opportunities for change I need to breach, and new folks to meet that are hopefully a bit more compatible. I have an idea of where I want my life to go, it's just a matter of getting there. And hopefully, managing to not destroy myself on the way.
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