This Tranny Wants to Get Laid

By J.R.

Very few people like first dates. It’s kind of like trying to channel a used car salesman, only you’re not selling a busted Toyota. You’re selling yourself. You have to find the middle ground between sharing some things about yourself to keep the conversation going, yet not scaring them by revealing too many intimate details. I often use the model of “can you put it on a resume?” Plus, you need to figure out where to go on your first date, and what the hell are you going to wear? And in addition to all this fun, I get to add another wrench into the works: I’m a passing transsexual, and at some point this must be addressed.

Obstacle Number One: When to Disclose This Information

My main hurdle is that at some point I must be honest with the person and have a conversation about the fact that he or she may not know that I’m a transsexual. I have a rule that I’m not going to bring someone home and then tell them. It feels dishonest. Usually people have some clue, but I never assume they know. Even though I do transgender activism, talk an awful lot about gender theory and am fucking short for a guy, these are not dead giveaways.

I’m awful with this. When other trans friends ask me when and how to disclose, I tell them I’m the wrong guy to ask. I was out on a date with girl at a coffee shop and hit her with, “How’s your moccachino? By the way I’m a transsexual.” After stopping briefly from making out to pretend we were watching a band play I whispered in this poor girl’s ear, “I’m transgender,” making her another victim of my non-sequitors. She pointed out that she couldn’t really hear me. So I yelled it just as the band stopped playing and everyone around me heard. I’m not good with subtlety.

And then there are the times when I decide to repeat this as many times as possible because I can’t believe that the other person is ok with it. It’s amazing how little credit I give people. Somehow I’ve bought into the idea that no one will ever like me and that everyone will desexualize me.

Obstacle Number Two: Negotiating Sex

Sex is fun. And, being that I’m a big fan of porn and sex, you would think I could talk about it. But somehow, when it comes to my own desires, I become mute. Author’s note: if you ever want to shut me up just ask me what I want to do in bed. I will become a dark shade of red and slink away.

But this is not productive when I actually want to have sex and the other person needs to have some understanding of what I do with my body, what my body looks like and how it acts. I get extra tongue-tied having to talk about parts that exist but don’t have universal names. I stumble through talking about blowjobs given to parts that detach. I know full well that my desires are ok and there isn’t one model of how I should feel, just as not all lesbians have sex in one way. I don’t need to subscribe to the stereotypes and expectations of others as to how to use my body. I can talk about desiring someone and have him or her not be ok about it, but if I don’t ask then I shall never give nor receive.

Often I feel defeated by the assumptions my potential partner has about how I relate to my body or what I want to do with it. I once had someone tell me that she knew from a documentary that I would only have sex in the pitch black. The problem with that was that I then couldn’t see her or enjoy viewing her body and it’s reactions. False assumptions feel like a strip of my individuality and the uniqueness of my body.

I’ve spent years trying to make peace with it and get a sense of humor about it. So now my right hand and I are off to spend some quality time. At least we know each other’s limitations.