A while back I spent some time chatting with a new FtM. You know, one of the ones with less than a year’s time on hormones.
So I’m sitting in my chair, clicking off in my head all the physical changes he’s showing, and he’s talking about how hard everything is, and people don’t understand, and it’s bad, bad, bad. Then he riffs for awhile on the LGBT panel circuit gig. How much that sucks, what with no pay and all. And I’m thinking about all the babes who are now drawn to him as he transitions, etc., the ones that stand near him at events, etc. The one’s I’ve seen touch him, and fawn over him, etc.
“I agree with you about panels,” I shared and then BOOM! Right between the ears, I realize:
I was just like that, about seven or ten years ago.
I used to talk about how hard it was, especially to some hot babe, then bask in her glow as she said something like, “oh, that is so hard!” and snuggled up next to me, (where her breast might rub against my arm) or hugged me (where both her breasts might touch my chest) or touched my face (where, depending on her top, I might get a freebie peek at her cleavage).
So this realization begins to permeate my core, and then BOOM! I realize I used panel discussions to get dates. In fact, I used the whole -transitioning-is-hard-maybe-no-one-will-date-me-life-is-hard schtick on the LGBT panel circuit to get dates.
Not in any thoughtful way, mind you. But as I listened to this guy go on, I just saw myself, seven, ten years ago, using a combination of self-fetishization and pity to get the babes to date me. I thought:
What a dorky approach! How obvious!
It worked though. At least then it did, and if the babes flocking to this guy reflect today’s times, it seems to be working still.
Then I just started laughing inside myself.