More FtM Blues


Indeed. In my tiny life, to pack or not to pack, haunts and sustains me.

As long as I can remember, I’ve obsessed about the size of my package. And I’m talking about nerf balls in my underpants in the third grade, too.

Despite my fascination with cyborg imagery, I shock myself when I call my various packing devices prosthetics. No, I say. Artificial legs, arms, eyes. Those are prosthetics.

My pink piece of cyberskin is, what? Me? A manifestation of a yearning?

I don’t know. I guess I think I should know by now. After all I’ve been packing in some manner for about 30 years. Still I don’t.

What I do know is that I haven’t packed at all in the last few weeks. The worry about what others might think about my lacking package just sort of fell away.

Stuffing my underwear every morning feels like too much work. Too much not me. My package is tiny….a microbrand, if you will. ;-). That used to bum me out, radically. Now I just think it something true for me.

I am most suprised by how much my obsession is just so masculine/male/manly. Guess I’m not too different from alot of other guys. Each of us is left to decipher and decode the package of the penis/phallus/cock.

To pack or not to pack. To stuff or not to stuff. What matters is this: which choice represents the most compassionate act I can do for myself?

Performativity Schnormativity


Alas, I know I should care more about these label wars. After all, on the U.S. left, we trade in radicalness. No one wants to be average or ordinary or, gasp, normal.

The whole thing borders on ridiculous, though. Radicalness derived from labels?

Hardly. Radicalness derives from actions. Continually.

What wows me about the whole transgender/transsexual divide: ten years ago, when the modern trans movements began emerging, we used the argument that everyone is transgender.

You know, because transsexuals were way too out there for most gays and lesbians and transgender described people who were neither cross-dressers nor transsexual. (In fact the term itself, I believe, was coined by Dr. Virginia Prince, who worked for Harry Benjamin.)

Radical is as radical does.

[Note: I can’t even get excited anymore when certain gay men use certain gay publications to state that transsexuals and transgenders should be more subtle. And I really can’t get excited by the reactions to said editorials when transsexual folks claim we all have the same issues……am I the only one who thinks the name change and birth certificate changes allowed by some states can be overchanged/not recognized by certain wack-jobs?]

Conformity and Transsexualism


My pal Az at going somewhere has a great post about the failure of nationalistic metaphors to describe transsexual experiences.

The value of his efforts recently came home to me. A non-trans friend and I discussed acceptable metaphors and stories that she as an African-American lesbian and I as a white transsexual man can say to our communities and the world at large.

We both agreed it unacceptable in a collective sense to say to our communities and the world, “I changed my gender (or became a lesbian) because I wanted to. I chose it.”

Talk about cognitive dissonance. When I have told people I chose to change my gender their faces cloud over. My answer must not have been a box on their transsexual checklist.

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Get It Right


(For Anna Camilleri and Maria at Daily Dose of Queer)

[Update: For Ona Marae, too. And all the nelly, faggy, poofter, limp-wristed, femme, super feminine bois, trannies, and men out there.

Until we stop worshipping the cock in all its forms, we f-u-c-k ourselves in all ways orificial and spiritual.

Easy to say. Hard to do, I know. But we know we have to do it and we know what we have to do.

Oh, and comment me some other femmes you love!