I’ve been thinking about this quote by Néstor Perlongher (a gay Argentinean poet & activist): “We don’t want to be persecuted or discriminated against or killed or cured or analyzed or explained or tolerated or understood: we want to be desired.”
Lately, I’ve been feeling alternately sad and angry about the cis world, particularly the cis gay male community; I have lots of reasons to be angry, but right now I’m just sad because I feel left out. When I started transitioning, gay men smirked or laughed (or at least looked confused) when I expressed an attraction to guys: they left it very clear that I could never be “one of them”. Now that I “pass” as cis, people assume I’m a cis gay male when I’m in lgbtq spaces, but men still lose interest when they find out I’m trans. I don’t want to be part of a community which has so many problems with inclusion (not just trans inclusion), but I’m still attracted to men, and it would be nice to be desired.
I know that some cis men are ok with trans guys, but it’s hard to know who they are. My theory is that most men would answer “no” if asked “would you date a trans man?”, but that many would date a trans man if they found out after getting to know him. If that were true, I’d eventually find someone if I started hitting on large quantities of men. But it’s really tiring; every rejection gets me so down on myself that it takes months for me to regain confidence (plus, I suck at the art of flirting!).
It’s not only being trans that makes me feel undesirable: I actually love being trans, and I love my body, though it isn’t always easy in a (cis)sexist world. I don’t feel ugly, exactly, but I do know I’m not terribly attractive (because of my personality, my voice, my inability to dance…). I really identify with this quote by transartorialism: “…sometimes to me it feels like we build our primary bridges into (gender)queer communities by arching our backs in bed, and that makes it so much harder for those of us with bodies and minds and personalities that are not the model of desire in our “communities” and even less so on the outside.”
Most of the time I don’t mind being single; family and friends are enough. But every once in a while I see two men together and I feel a longing to have that for myself, and it saddens me to know that it probably won’t happen. Of course, the idea of finding someone is scary, too: I’ve grown wary of cis men, so I’m really apprehensive of trusting them with my body. I usually try to ignore the sadness until it goes away and proceed with life as usual; I wonder if I’ll every break the cycle and actually do something about it.