One thing goes wrong, so everything is wrong.
I am simply too femme for the cute guys at 357.
I didn’t stop crying until I’d agreed not to make myself go back to 357 last night. It’s the wrong place, or rather, the guys there are not a match for me, and I’m not a match for them. I can imitate a boy, but at core I’m femme, even when I had a willy, and the gay boys don’t want a femme boy. And I’m sure the things I learned at cruising class can be applied elsewhere.
I thought about a straight boy who’d kissed me, and how good I felt about that. Beautiful, giving, soft but firm, intimate, unafraid, loving.
I love being treated as a woman by a straight man. My whole face changes when I think of how happy I am to be kissed as a woman by a man who is sexually attracted to women. It changes to look unmistakably womanly. My secret gender?
I spent some time then challenging my sexist desires, and realizing that the war of the sexes goes on in my head as much as anywhere. But I love doors being opened for me; I love the signs that indicate that in some nice man’s scheme of things I am to be treated like a lady, with respect, and as a possible sex partner.
But I’m glad I was born with a boy’s body, or I’d have been pregnant very young and very often, had all my time and energy taken up with other people’s agendas (the kids and the controlling male partners), and would have missed this fascinating free-wheeling life of the mind.
Interest from the gay web dating sites has been minimal to zilch.
Interest from a hetero site has been more voluminous, although it’s turned into a game of winnowing out those whose agenda is not just plain honest sex, since for so many of them with all sorts of baggage from their parents and sexism, interaction with a girl is not about seeing if she’s wants a root, but how much power he can have over her, how much he can manipulate her, can he get her to send her webcam or revealing photos when he’s giving so little, how far can he engage her before she realizes he’s a lying cheating cad. Most of them don’t behave any better than hairless apes.
Do I want to have sex with hairless apes? No, I don’t. I want to have sex with an Angel.
I think I’ll try and stay focused on MY truth, and not allow these poor damaged people trying to get what they can from other humans with dishonesty and exploitive manipulation to take up so much of my time.
And I’m going to spend less time in places that I feel bad in, such as the chlorine and amyl stench of 357. I’m still glad I’m fighting for the rights of gender or sex diverse people to access these Sex On Premises Venues, but I don’t think it’s healthy for me to be there.
I‘m just going to accept that there are not many emotionally and sexually available people evolved enough for me, and that I choose sexual abstinence rather than sex with a hairless ape. I’m an Angel, a divinely sexual being, and I’m not settling for less!