Advertisements

Posts Tagged With: FTM

Is Transitioning Becoming Too Easy?

201028_10151165838073172_3735344_o

 

I realize that this may be a touchy subject, so I’m going to make it clear right away that I mean no disrespect to anyone.  It isn’t really my style to purposely hurt anyone or to judge anyone. My intention right now is to delve into a topic of discussion that I’ve had recently with a few people close to me.

As a butch woman, I have to deal with a great deal of prejudice from a lot of people. The direction from which this prejudice comes is sometimes astonishing to me. Other lesbians who are more of a feminine persuasion and are attracted to the same type of feminine woman have a tendency to talk to me like I’m dirt sometimes. They do not understand me and often go out of their way to say things like, “you are just trying to be a man” or “if I wanted to be with a man, I’d choose a man” and so on and so on. I’m not going to get into all the things that being butch means, but it certainly does not mean that I want to be a man. I consider myself to be a combination of masculine and feminine energy that compliment each other in ways that bless me in my life. I feel that I’m lucky to be me.

I’ve grown to believe that sexuality is a very fluid thing.  I believe that we are all capable of loving men or women, regardless of who we are. We may never act on it, but I honestly believe that many people would if they hadn’t already been taught by society that it is somehow “wrong” to do so. I also believe that this early programming has seriously affected lesbians in many ways. Sexuality simply cannot be placed into a box of choice.

I believe that many years ago, lesbians thought that they had to give-up their femininity in order to be gay. It was almost expected that women act more masculine in those days because they were a lesbian; society had a vision of what a lesbian was and that was anything but feminine. Many women felt they had to give-up dreams of having children or families in order to live up to some sort of ideal. Only in the last twenty to thirty years are we realizing that we don’t have to choose one or the other. We can be lesbians and be parents. We can paint our nails, wear heels or we can wear jeans and a ball cap. We truly can have it all.

As we (lesbians) have evolved, there seems to have become some sort of a split with many sub-groups. There are now so many labels that I personally cannot keep up with them and I certainly imagine that heterosexuals are confused as well. Being butch, I’m noticing that more and more butch women are gravitating towards transitioning from female to male in larger numbers than ever. I notice that there is a rise in interest in binding, top surgery and a desire to even mimic male behavior patterns more so than ever before. I’m a little puzzled by this because I’ve always been proud to be lesbian and even more proud to be butch. I’ve always felt that I was better than men because I could embrace the masculine while having the brains to know better behavior. I am comfortable with my masculine nature but I am also very comfortable to be a woman underneath it all. I embrace my softer side; the part of me that enjoys cuddling and having a good cry from time to time. I feel that I have managed to take the best of both worlds – male and female – and make them uniquely my own. I believe in respecting women, holding the door for them, getting the chair for them and holding them in only the way a butch woman can. I also believe that it’s okay for me to cry, be soft and enjoy putting my head on someone’s shoulder sometimes and showing my vulnerability. This makes me feel whole.

My concern is that because transitioning is so easy to do now (and so common) that it may just be too easy. Just like Botox and boob jobs, people now think nothing of taking “T” and growing a beard. Honestly, I’m concerned that someone in their twenties is not fully equipped to make this decision. Before some of you get your boxers in a bunch and tell me that the difference is that you see yourself as a guy in the mirror, let me cut you off and tell you that there was a time that I did too.

You see, when I was much younger I considered whether or not that the choice to transition would be right for me. I didn’t take it lightly and I went through a phase where I probably had “penis envy” in a way. I used to think that I was in the wrong body but not because I truly felt that way on my own – society was making me feel that way. I am saying that I was slowly conditioned to look at myself the way others did…I had short hair and I had big hands and feet. People assumed I was a man and still do. I’m often called “sir” out in public. The fact is that it doesn’t bother me. I am secretly pleased to know I am a female underneath it all. By the time I was in my thirties I had come to a point where I learned to like myself exactly as I was.

I think all human beings go through this phase, but because it has become so popular to blame our sexuality for unhappiness, many butch lesbians think that transitioning will make them happy or whole. I’m not entirely convinced that this is the case for most. That said, there are people who honestly do need to transition in order to live a whole life;  they are truly mentally the opposite sex. I’m not disavowing anyone here. I just wonder if it has gotten too easy, like taking Xanax instead learning to deal with your life? Has transitioning become the latest plastic surgery fad and is it being done because doctors see it as a way to make a lot of money? Are we making it too “cool” to do?

I worry that fewer and fewer women live as butch because they don’t see that as a viable option anymore. Pressure from society and from those we might hear referred to as “lipstick lesbians” make us feel unwanted by our own community at times. Is this what makes us feel that the only option is to conform to what the world thinks we should be? I wonder where are the proud butch women now? It seems they are being replaced by a younger generations of “bois” and female to males in transition. I’m concerned if this is because we are placing too much pressure on young butches, making them feel that they need to be something other than what they are. I’d love to hear comments from others on this.

Again, I stress that I am not in any way trying to talk bad about those who choose to transition. I’ve always been very supportive and have friends who are in transition and are fully transitioned. I just feel that this is a valid argument that needs to be discussed and I wonder if we need to be having this discussion more openly rather than just automatically telling our friends to go ahead and transition?

A friend of mine has a friend who is in the hospital right now, possibly dying from an infection that is the result of a compromised immune system – a side effect of transition and hormone replacement therapy. This happens in some cases, as well as other medical complications. There are also many other things to consider, such as never being able to afford bottom surgery – which is also not perfected yet. Someone may start the transition and never fully complete it for many reasons. Personally, I could not handle being in this sort of sexual limbo or giving up sexual satisfaction…which is the case most of the time. I’d really like to hear the opinions of my readers on this. Please, keep it respectful as people from all walks of life read this blog. Thanks!

Advertisements
Categories: equal rights, gay lesbian, lesbian | Tags: , , , , | 30 Comments

A Tease to My New Novel – “Love Me Like I Don’t Deserve It”

The doorbell jarred Jaime out of dreamland, and the dog started barking at the intrusion to the morning silence. Where the hell is my robe?, Jaime thought to herself. She moved to find her robe. It was early and all she had on were her boxer shorts and a tee shirt. No way was she answering the door in that. She retrieved her robe from the back of the bathroom door, where it had probably been for several months, and then drug her way to the front door. She was still half asleep.

Jaime reached for the door, turned the knob and opened it. Standing before her was a gorgeous, blonde woman, as if she had been placed there by the universe. Jaime couldn’t help but look her up and down. The woman was wearing a green dress that stopped just above the knees, high-heels, and was carrying a purse that was designer and sporting perfectly manicured nails with red nail polish. In an instant she had determined the woman was about a size 2. Hello! Jaime took a lot of pride in knowing her woman’s sizes. It was sort of a butch thing.

Jaime was definitely a masculine woman. Her hair was cut in a very military style, as if she had just gotten out of boot camp somewhere. For a female, Jaime was pretty tall, at five foot nine inches in stature. She also was very muscular for a woman. It seemed to just come naturally. All her life she had worked on farms and around animals, and it showed. Her ‘style’ is jeans, tee shirts or button down shirts. Getting dressed up in Jaime’s world, meant putting on her fancy boots and new jeans. Once in awhile she might be talked into a nice jacket and slacks…but you can be sure that she’ll have her wallet in her back pocket. Most of the time, in public, Jaime was referred to as “sir”, and this didn’t really bother her. Using public restrooms could be uncomfortable from time to time, but mostly she thought of it as more of a compliment when people mistook her for a man. Jaime was a proud, butch lesbian; happy to be a woman, but pleased to look like a man.

Jaime had to gather herself for a couple of seconds, before she could muster, “Hi, can I help you?” For a quick few seconds, the other woman also seemed to be also gathering herself, perhaps taken back by the woman in front of her? Jaime smiled, was used to it. The woman looked at her with big, brown eyes (something that Jaime found irresistible on a blonde) and answered with a flustered and desperate tone, “Yes, I was on my way to a friend’s and my tire has gone flat. I have my cell phone with me but I am getting no reception out here and I am just really in a bind. Could I possibly use your phone?”

Jaime stepped aside and motioned for the woman to come in. It was raining and Jaime was the ‘gentlemanly’ sort. Always help a woman in need, this was her old-school, butch motto. Jaime was the type to hold the door for people and help them into a chair…especially those of the feminine persuasion. She was trying very hard not to gawk at this woman at her door, as she watched her walk past.

“Sure, the phone is over there on the desk. Do you need a phone book?” “No, I have my my friend’s number here in my phone, but thank-you”, responded the beautiful blonde. As she walked by, Jaime couldn’t help but smell the perfume and before she even thought about it, she remarked, “I love the perfume you are wearing. That’s really nice.” The woman smiled and tossed over her shoulder as she walked by, “Thank you! It’s Burberry…London.”

The stranger in front of her dressed well, everything about her was coordinated and put together with great care. While the woman talked with her friend, Jaime made her way to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. She pulled two cups out of the cupboard for the unexpected guest. As she’s waiting for her coffee to brew, Jaime couldn’t help

but look at the woman in her living room and admire her legs, and follow them up and down a few times. The mystery woman had high cheek bones and a small, well-shaped nose that fit her face perfectly. Her neck was long and slender and lead down into the cleavage of her dress. She had really nice curves, in all the right places. Breathe, Jaime….breathe. Okay, maybe if someone like THAT wanted to be my girlfriend, i might change her mindabout not dating.

The woman hangs up the phone and Jaime abruptly diverts her gaze to her coffee cup and collects herself. This is why I used to love mirrored sunglasses as I recall. “Would you like a cup of coffee? It’s cold out there this morning.” The woman steps towards her and says, “Oh, that would be so nice! Thank you. Yeah, it is very cold out this morning and I’m afraid I look like a mess. My hair got all wet and my clothes are wet…I must look like a drowned rat!” The comment makes Jaime smile because this woman couldn’t look a mess if she tried. Once the coffee finished brewing, she poured a cup for her guest and handed it to her, “ Would you like a towel or something? A blanket?” Kim takes the cup from Jaime and responds, “A warm towel might actually be nice? I’m freezing!” Kim continued, “My friend is going to come and get me but it may take a while, she’s a good 20 miles away and wasn’t dressed to leave the house. Will I be inconveniencing you to wait here for her? I’m so sorry…I can tell I must have woke you when I rang your doorbell!”

In true butch fashion, before she even can think about it, Jaime’s mouth opened and poured out, “Of course, no problem at all. Make yourself at home. It was time I got up anyway.” Immediately, Jaime thinks to herself, Dude, you just love torturing yourself, don’t you?

“Have a seat if you like”, Jaime motions to the sofa. “Thank you so much, I really don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been home. There really isn’t anything out here. By the way, my name is Kim.” She extends her hand and Jaime takes it and responds, “I’m Jaime, nice to meet you. Yeah, there isn’t another house for about two miles. You picked a bad place to have a problem with a tire. Do you have a spare? I mean, I could probably change it for you if you wanted?”

Kim looks at Jaime and smiled, “I am sure you could! No, my spare is flat, I already looked. My husband was supposed to take care of that weeks ago. But you know how men are!” Jaime thinks to herself no, I don’t, but she laughs and says, “Oh yeah…I have brothers.” Kim sort of cocks her head to one side and half smiles. “Yeah. Well, men are hard to live with. My husband drives me crazy. He procrastinates about anything that needs to be done, for me or for the house. Now, if it is for HIM or his job, then he is all over it!”

Jaime comes back from the bathroom with a towel, which she hands to Kim. Then she turns around to the wood stove and begins placing some newspaper in the bottom and some small pieces of kindling. It takes her just a couple of moments to have a small fire crackling. Kim was watching her and studying her. Jaime had a strong jawline, her hair was cut in a mans style crew cut. She had on jeans now, a pair of hiking boots and her shirt was a button-down striped shirt over a navy blue, long-sleeved Henley. Different for a woman…but somehow it works for her. She was smiling as Jaime turned and walked over and plopped down in the recliner and casually said, “Yeah, I have a good friend who goes through the same thing with her husband. He’s a great guy but he leaves her home alone a lot, doesn’t really do anything to help her around the house and is sort of an absentee husband. Matter of a fact, he doesn’t even take out the trash.” Kim shakes her head, stares into her coffee cup and softly says, “Yes, I completely understand what your friend is going through. Cal, my husband, is a real estate agent. He makes good money and I have never had to go without anything. We have a nice home, nice cars and he will buy me anything I want, but sometimes I feel like he is buying my faithfulness to him and our marriage. He knows that I am not happy with him and the hours he works and spends away from home. He also doesn’t seem to care.”

Jaime studies Kim’s face for a few moments. It’s clear that the woman was very sad. Still, it was surprising that someone could have designer clothes, shoes, perfume, drive fancy cars and yet still be totally unhappy. Suddenly Jaime thought that her own life wasn’t really so bad. “You know, if you aren’t happy, then why do you stay?”, she tossed out. Playing devil’s advocate was always her most favorite thing to do. She never did it to start trouble, she enjoyed inciting deep conversations and philosophical debates. Ever since studying anthropology at the University of Arkansas, Jaime was very interested in cultures and the things that made people tick.

Kim looked up from her coffee cup and seemed almost defeated, “When you get married young, and you have more or less always been a ‘kept woman’, it just isn’t that easy. Sometimes I wish I had the nerve to leave. I never went to college. I have never had a job. I don’t even know what I could do to support myself?”

“So is that the ONLY reason you stay?”, Jaime inquired of the stranger on her sofa.

“Not entirely,” Kim replied “he doesn’t make me feel loved or appreciated anymore though. Some days I just want to strangle him, like today. I wouldn’t be sitting here on your sofa, bothering you at an early hour, if he’d done what I asked him to do. You’d think MOST husbands would be concerned that their wife was safe and they would even drop what they were doing to come help. Nope, not Cal. He is just so totally self-absorbed and money driven. Sometimes, I wish we didn’t have money, then our lives wouldn’t have to revolve around it so much. You know?”, she looked at Jaime with questioning eyes.

Jaime stood, and reached for Kim’s coffee cup, “Yes, I do know. I just got out of a pretty bad relationship a few months ago. We were together for a long time and my partner was totally career driven and all about money. In the end, she cheated on me with someone from work.” She waited for the response. The look or the comment that generally comes when someone ‘gets it’. It didn’t come. She poured them fresh cups of coffee and handed Kim her cup. Kim smiled in thanks and commented, “I know that must have been very hard for you. How long were you and she together?”

“Seven years.”, was Jaime’s short response. Even now, it was hard to talk about. The pain seemed not so long ago, the day she had walked in and caught them together. She had suspected something was going on for a very long time, but anytime she brought it up or tried to talk about it, arguments ensued. In the end, she had been right all along, but somehow she would rather have been completely wrong about that one thing in her life.

Kim had been studying Jaime again, as she poured the coffee. Her hands were large, like a man’s, yet

there was something almost pretty about them. Jaime has very pretty, no….handsome actually, with blue eyes and a relaxing voice. It was hard not to be drawn to this woman in front of her. She could see that there was still pain in her eyes and she immediately wanted to know more about her. “So how long have you been a lesbian?”, the question snapped Jaime back out of her train of thought. She smiled at Kim, “I always knew. I can’t remember not knowing. I was looking at little girls when I was still in grade school.”

“Wow, really?”, Kim was leaning back on the sofa and she kicked off her shoes and curled them up under her as she asked the question. “Yeah,”, Jaime replied, “I had the biggest crush on this girl that was in my class. It went on for years. It was really horrible for me because she was a close friend and I just had it SO bad for her. I was always petrified someone would find out.”

Jaime thought to herself that it was true you couldn’t judge a book by its cover. Kim was actually pretty cool. For all the looks of ‘high and mighty’, she was really a pretty down to earth person, sitting on the sofa with her legs crossed under her and the towel she had dried her hair with was across her lap. Her hair was still damp, but it was beautiful. It hung down past her shoulders and framed her face perfectly.

“How long have you been out then? I mean…I guess I am assuming that you are out. You ARE out of the closet aren’t you? That is how you say it, right?”, Kim’s line of questioning continued, much to Jaime’s amusement. She sort of liked when people asked questions about what it was like being gay. It made her feel that there actually were people out there who wanted to learn and be more open. It seemed amazing compared to what life had been like all those years ago. “I have been out for twenty-five years. A lot has changed in those twenty-five years.”

Kim scooted forward a little, “Like what? Do you feel more accepted? I mean, I have met a lot of gay people in the last few years and it seems like they are living more openly. I don’t really remember meeting any gay people when I was younger. Maybe I just wasn’t paying attention?” Jaime lifted her coffee cup to her lips and thought about her response for a moment. She swallowed her mouthful of coffee, noting that it wasn’t as hot as it had been, and replied, “Well, it COULD be that you weren’t paying attention as a child because you wouldn’t have thought there was a thing wrong with it yet. Then society had a chance to indoctrinate you into what the general consensus on being gay is and make you think it was wrong? Of course, there is also the possibility that people are coming out of the closet younger and definitely are more comfortable in living out in the open. Times have changed for sure. Not that it is really THAT much safer, because the world is still a dangerous place if you are gay.”

“The world is a dangerous place, even if you are straight, honey”, Kim replied softly and gave Jaime a sweet smile. All Jaime could think was that this woman, gorgeous as hell, and sitting on her sofa, just called her HONEY. She could feel her cheeks turning hot and the surprise she felt for it only succeeded in making her even more crimson. Kim just sat and smiled at her, obviously noticing. The silence was deafening for a moment. Since hitting her forties, Jaime had sometimes felt like a teenage boy. She’d think to herself, be This MUSTbe what they feel like. It seemed that she was constantly turned-on by the slightest things and she found it to be mighty uncomfortable sometimes, like right now. Kim was totally her type of woman. Jaime was a proud, butch woman who favored very feminine women. Not all butch women did. Some opted for relationships with other butch women. Jaime just couldn’t imagine NOT being with a femme. She loved long hair, the smell of perfume, skirts, heels. God, heels were SO hot. Oh how she loved to kiss a sexy foot, with painted toe-nails and lick… KNOCK-KNOCK. The sound of someone at the door snapped Jaime out of another of her ‘teenage boy’ episodes. Thank God I can’t get a stiff dick, or I’d really be in trouble this very moment, she thought to herself as she made her way to the door. Kim was already standing, straightening out her skirt, assuming it was her friend to come get her.

Jaime opened the door. A woman was standing there. Kim spoke from behind Jaime, “Hi Sarah! Thanks so much for coming out here to get me.” Jaime motioned for her to come inside, as it was still raining. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”, Jaime offered, holding up her cup of now cold coffee. “Oh, no thanks. I already had my cup on the way out here… got some left in the car, but I appreciate the offer. Are you ready to go Kim? I thought we could just go have breakfast in town and stop to have Ryan’s garage come out and change your tire while we eat?”

Kim turned to grab her purse from the sofa, but Jaime was already standing there holding it out to her. Kim smiled and as she reached out to take the purse, she put an arm around Jaime and kissed her on the cheek, “Thanks for rescuing me today. You were so kind. Maybe someday we can continue our conversation? I’d love to talk more.” Jaime was so flustered by the kiss on the cheek that all she could manage was a nod and an “Uh huh, sure, anytime.”

Just as Kim was walking out the door, Jaime raced to the kitchen, reached in a drawer and came back, “Here, Kim. It’s my business card…in case you ever need anything. I am sort of a broker for people who sell recycled home building materials and household goods and furnishings.”

Kim’s face lit up and she responded, “See! I knew there was a reason to talk to you again, you KNOW this girl loves to shop!” She winked at Jaime just before she turned around to walk away. Jaime stood in the doorway, talking to herself softly, “Turn around and look. If you turn around and look back…” Just before Kim got to Sarah’s car, she turned around and shot a smile right at Jaime, as if she had felt her watching the whole time. Jaime blushed and stepped back inside quickly and shut the door. She leaned back against the door and rolled her eyes to the ceiling, “Damn teenage boy hormones!”, she chided herself as she walked towards the kitchen for hot coffee. Today was already interesting and she hadn’t even left the house.

Categories: erotica, gay lesbian, lesbian | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: