A Transsexual Isn't a Fetish Object

Were you to look over my old entries on nelly guys, crossdresser and transgendered people you wouldn’t see transsexuals on my shopping list.

Charles who was at times more girlish than any girl - at least any I’d associate with - is a better example of what I look for in the abstract: drenched in pixie dust, flamboyant - the modern gay man’s nightmare. (If I saw someone who acted like Charles on a TV show I’d probably consider it homophobic.)

The transvestites that I might’ve become involved with were always near misses. Distractions and schedules got in the way. I’d say the main quality I was looking for was comfort in being happy with their gender and attire. All too rare: too many crossdressers are self-hating.

Honestly if I’d been searching for someone whose transgendered status included more than clothing it would’ve been that rare group that chooses to live with attributes of both genders. Choice is a key: not people who do so involuntarily.

I’m most strongly drawn to people who either incorporate both genders and ideally enjoy subverting gender norms.

I wasn’t looking for a transsexual. Someone who is willing to undergo an orchidectomy is too committed to one gender to fall into my idea of androgyny. Quite the opposite.

Alex and I knew each other for several years before we started talking about getting together.

Originally he was Sendy. A (as far as I knew) femme gay boy who was too young and too far away. Sure in my heart I’d wonder but never expected we’d ever meet.

When our conversations made us each wonder if distance could be overcome I knew Alex was considering SRS. Pansexuality is a gift in that: you don’t care.

I love Alex and will do everything I can to support her choices. But my eyes didn’t light up while I said to myself “Oh Boy! A tranny!”

(And should my troll be reading she isn’t short nor submissive.)