A Eunuch's Love Life

The more personally intimate blog of the love life of an androgynous but not sexless eunuch in this post-modern world

Friday, March 31, 2006

Cocksucking sissyboygirl

I went to a funeral of an elderly friend yesterday, a lovely affair scripted by this old Bhuddist anarchist free-thinking sage, and following his life example, today I took a chance on a older larger man at the sauna today (the one in Chinatown. It was just up from the cinema I saw V in, and I knew I'd be in a good mood after V, so it was part of a planned day...) who talked nicely to me, and I got nicely sorted, thank you very much. I'm a happy cock-sucking sissyboygirl now (for at least a week maybe). Not every man looks down on "bottoms".. some actually appreciate us!

I went with the older gent after a younger Asian guy had tried his luck with me, but after a short suck he (Asian guy) wanted to fuck, and then found he couldn't manage turgidity with a cunt (he was forewarned, and knew the score before he led me to a cubicle!), and left rather abruptly. I think I prefer older men who know their sexuality, rather than young guys who are studs in their own minds but are so often dismally disappointing. In my youth I'd just have flipped these guys over, but I don't have that option now ; )

And anyway, much as it galls me to admit it as a feminist, I am by nature a bottom.

Apparently there is some scientific evidence indicating that some people are attracted to men because of a genetic disposition to liking men chemically. This trait is on the X chromosone, and while it has obvious fertility value if the recipient of this is female, every human has an X chromosone. Maybe it's a factor that's present in some and absent in others, or present in all and suppressed or augmented to varying degrees. Anyway, I got it, and to function healthily I need the smell and taste of man regularly.

Whether this man suits my ego's ideas of who it would like to be seen with is beside the point.

At the end of the day, any man who is nice to me and fancies me and has all his working parts working will satisfy my needs as a sexual human animal.

The drawnback, sadly, is that men are so often vile to people who love cock. Think of all the bad names for us. Honestly, finding a man who wants his dick sucked, and who won't give me any grief for doing that, is a major challenge. So many of them have wanted to play power games, or human possession, or stole my rent money cos I'm just a cocksucking faggot.

However, the more sure I am of the rightness of me being as I am, the less these losers bother me.

Oh, and just in case I thought I was now living in happy fairy land, tonight the local kids decided to hurl water bombs into the house of "the trany". Luckily I heard them plotting and closed the window just in time for it to take the brunt of a water bomb, but then a few rocks followed.

Never the less, it's my job to be as my creator made me, true to my effeminate androgynous androphilic nature, no matter what the consequences.

Only three months in, and already TWO roots this year! That's double the whole of last year! And today's success has given me more courage that I am reasonably attractive, including my particular gender/sexuality.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Three Androgynous Sexual Attractions

Now that I have abandoned any prospect of overlaying my androgyny and acquiring female secondary sexual characteristics, I am happier in my body, and it is producing happier thoughts. I may not appeal to people who are single-gender-fixated, but they're not really my type anyway, and my own androgynous body gives me some attractive features, by virtue of its androgyny:

(1) Its perfect androgyny, the moving play of ying and yang, the appeal of the exotic. Standing naked, I look like a character from another world, a bit like a nymph, or an elf. Or an androgynous angel ; )

(2) My androgynous body could be attractive for a bisexual lad who wanted to be monogamous, for he could have relations with both sexes without having to have more than one partner.

(3) OK, here's a rude bit warning. There is a warning in the intro, but you may have forgotten or not noticed it, so here's the warning again. The next bit is , well, rude, so don't claim I'm responsible for offending you if you read on after the warning. Ahem Where was I? On yes,

(3) Fucking me is like fucking a boy and a girl both at once.

: )

ScAndal!

------------------

My self esteem has recovered, my sexual and personal confidence returned and increased, as I appreciate more and more all that my creator has made of and for me. My connection to the Way, to the abudant flow of life, increases as I learn to trust and expand my senses and awareness of my world and how I am in it.

Normativists beware, and diss not my way!
I have less time
for tiny tiny minds!

My libido, ego and superego are all three of One Mind.
And not of this kind or that kind, but simply of the One Kind.

Sunday, March 19, 2006

Androgyny for me forever

Well, that's that settled then. No hormones, no development of female secondary sexual characteristics, just being as I am, androgynous, female, boyish... and anyway, I do have secondary sexual characteristics.. those of a eunuch... I smell like me, and I look like me, and if God hasn't put somebody else on this planet who'll like that, well, that's God's business I suppose, and odds are G probably wouldn't strand someone like that, but anyway I'm sticking with being me because this is how I like me most, and although I'd like it if I met some nice guy who liked me too, that's up to God to arrange, and it's nothing but bad karma if I alter myself, this living androgynous divine art work, out of however strong a carnal desire, however wretched the despair. My first duty is to honour my values, and their priority, and being true to myself is right up there, along with my love for my androgynous body.

Well, at least I can clearly state that I have no gender confusion. After all this, I can confidently state I am profoundly androgynous. Androgyously female. Whatever. But no boobies for this beautiful lithe ladytomboy, thanks.

And I am sure of my course, even if I am terrified of the potential consequences, but I cannot choose any course but being true to myself regardless of the cost to my personal comfort. What's the point of me being just another sell-out?

I accept fully who I am, and I am committed to being true to that, wherever it leads.

Even if I am whispered about constantly in public, even if the kids whine "Are you a girl? Are you a girl? Are you a girl", even when strangers feel impelled to police my gender abnormality, even if almost every guy finds me sexually unattractive... whatever...

I am not here to sell out my physical body for the sake of mere sensory gratification (and shit karma). I can alter my desire sooner than I would alter my body now.

Clearly, it's my calling to be me, as I am now, androgynous, totally vulnerable to all the abuse hurled at people percieved to be of gender diversity/ deviation, facing my worst fear, (lovelessness), releasing any hope of the ego arranging some guarantee of emotional safety, not leaping into the abyss but confidently striding through the dark, knowing that this is God's path for me, knowing that only by being true to myself am I in the Tao, the Way, and that anything less is bullshit.

I went to Paddy's, and bought some lovely clothes for my lovely androgynous frame. I'm a size eight skirt, size ten with lots of taking-in adjustments for a lovely white linen Chinese unisex suit thing. Oh it's lovely. It'll be ready Thursday, and I'll be walking tall, unique, eunuch, taking it all on the chin and in my stride, at the mercy and grace of the Oneness we are all part of, surrendering to my maker, because at the end of the day, I am in awe of what they have made.

Thank you to all who were part of my journey through this, especially to Dorothy, and whoever wrote that first hymn that cracked me up or broke me well through this morning. I lived it as I sung it.

Blessed be.

Right of Reply

I just watched my naked body in the mirror, and I think it's okay, it's sexy. What is WRONG with you guys???

I started off a little suspiciously, noticing the lack of secondary sexual characteristics, being critical and wondering if itwas normal for my chest to be so curved from a front view. Then I figured I was being hypercritical, and acknowledged that I didn't look so bad, and could even see that I was fanciable, but I just didn't compete well against someone with a similarly healthy human body but who also had....Special Features to that body! Men and women have "special features" on me.. well, I might have a special feature too, I thought, for just then my core muscles engaged and animated my form like a tantric yogini with flowing abdomenal ripples and the dance of Shiva in my spine.

So, that' s what I'm going to be today. I'm miles away from being sexually attractive as a woman, so in the meantime, androgynous dancer is all I got. And I don't think there's anything wrong with it, and I think everything is right with it, and I don't like the idea of changing it... but I understand why I have to change it, and I will change it, I promise...

No, bullshit, this is my Right of Reply, and I do NOT promise to change my body, I am the part of me that loves my body absolutely as it is, and I want to keep its beautiful sexy androgyny, the whole physical form animated by my dancing soul, exactly as lithe and boyish and effeminate and completely womanly as it is.

Time for my morning exercises now (ten minutes for the Tibetan Rites, go on, google them and do them, you won't be disappointed... oh hang on, what do I know? I'm supposed to be the one with crap unsexually attractive body aren't I? ["Unsexually attractive" I'll save that phrase for later cogitation...] Well, whatever,

NO, I don't have to talk myself back around before I finish this post. This is the Right of Reply, since no one else will speak up for my body as it is. Unsexually attractive.. well, maybe that is what I am, and maybe that can work too, being attractive because of my relative lack of sexual differentiation.

And, fuckin', what's fuckin' unsexual about it? Fuckin' look at it! There's certainly nothing unattractive about it!

Except for the opinions of others.

[Sit's back in head. thinks: this could be an interesting morning. never a dull moment in this head.] [slight break for Tibtan Rites, and eye exercises in half shoulderstand]

Why should I give up the smell of me for the smell of them (men)? There would be nothing left to love... If I give up the things I love about my body in order to get loved, how much of a loving person have I left myself?

I'm not just gaining a womanly body if I go on hormones, I lose the smell of ME. So maybe no one else likes it, I like it.

And I don't want boobs in my face when I'm doing a shoulderstand. I love my body as it is. And my love is a litte angry that you would dare contemplate diminishing it for the sake of the opinions of others....

Time for the shower then...

Saturday, March 18, 2006

Choices

I'm not impressed; NO one has tried to talk me out of taking hormones, no one suggests that it's possible that some nice guy will find me sexually attractive as I am. That sucks with teeth, man.

But they're right; while there may be a small percentage of guys who feel about my body along the same lines that I do, it's such an astronomically small number that my odds of meeting one in the next century are pretty poor.

Still, that doesn't make me unsexy, it just means I have limited appeal.

And I'm about to increase that limit by a similarly astronomic factor.

But the heart has gone out of going out for me. For the next few months, while, ironically, my actual sexual attraction factor will be soaring with the implementation of secondary sexual characteristics, my sexual self esteem is starting from an all-time low, with the realisation of how improbable it is that without secondary sexual characteristics (as I am) I could ever elicit the same response I have for the secondary sexual characteristics of guys.

Still, I get points for perserverance, and for being willing to do whatever it takes to get whatever is really important to me, and for acknowledging what is important to me and even for weighing how important it is against what I am losing.

I hope that's just a degree of androgyny, and not for long the current loss of peace of mind. I suddenly realise I am invisible in the sexual world of men and women. That's yuck.

Not screamingly horrific like the terror of a life without prospect of love for me, just yuck like cough medicine.

But friends are invited to humour me, and lie to me in a week or so saying they can see how much prettier I look already ; )

Friday, March 17, 2006

The end of childhood

So, I've talked with a few people about my decision to go on hormones, and they have all agreed strongly that if I want to be sexually attractive, I have to have secondary sexual characteristics. I can take a hint. I guess that's more realistic than my egotistic fantasy of them saying, "Oh no, no, don't be silly, lots of guys fancy you, here, come to this party with me and meet some of them..."

And if it's just a hypothesis, well, I've bloody well tested the other hypothesis under every condition I could imagine, and found it unproven, so its time to test this new hypothesis.

A body that looks as female on the outside as I am on the inside is only a few months away.

And it's time to let go of the childish things I've been attached to, like the tranvestic thrill of hiding my true sexuality under an androgynous shell. Yes, I may have an androgynous personality, but my sexuality is quite more gendered. Or am I trimming the story to fit a more viable scenario? Ah, whatever, I quit, I surrender, I submit, I want to play the sex game and I am willing to do whatver it takes to do that, whatever it takes, and maybe it's well past time I let go of my Peter Pannish/ eternal tomboy self-image.

Certain adult things are important to me, so it's time to grow out of my girlish body. Pheromones and hormones and fatty deposits, here I come.

I feel crap if I think the hypothesis is true and think about being me right now, being therefor as sexy as a milk crate. But I should just think about the potential I have now, and it'll only take a few months, and it's better to realise that I am less sexy than a milkcrate and therefor be able to choose to change that, than to not realise I am less sexy than a milkcrate, and therefor be stuck being less sexy than a milkcrate whilst desperately needing to be rather more sexy than a milkcrate. Nothing against milkcrates or their admirers, mind you.

So, my Lenten journey may be to be true to my sexual needs, and sacrifice my old self-image, shed my tomboyhood, and rise anew as more like an adult woman.

Previously I'd thought it was about being true to my androgynous self-image, no matter what the opinions of others, and perservering through into darkness for a while to find the light. But mayhap not.

And so, reluctantly, I go, committed to hormones, and hopeful that the different results will ease my grief at losing some androgyny, and for being so wrong for so long.

How could I be so wrong for so long? But then, it takes as long as it takes, and I'm as smart as I am, and I've never thought I was the most intelligent when it comes to human interaction, and I was probably a bit blind sided by the initial catalysts of me going off hormones, with those nasty things that happened when I was first newly a woman (post-op, that is).

Life is Change.

Femme we go again

"I am beaten; I'm going on hormones. "

That's an unuseful ego talking.

"I've learned from my mistake, and I'm fixing it. "

That's a better way of putting it.

I am already grieving the end of my androgynous body, but of course it is not dying or even sloughing, but simply being changed.

How ironic that the Bhuddist/Hindu meditator should be so attached to a state of being. But I think I have to choose between being a special sex-hormone-free eunuch, and being sexually attractive enough to attract a man (through developing secondary sexual characteristics, including all the actual chemistry that is between other adult people).

And I could stand it if my breast filled out a little, and I'd welcome a bit of fat on my recently bony ass and thighs. All I have to do is accept this decision and I can see some good things about it. (Other than just saving my life by putting me back in the game, I mean.)

Doctors will be consulted, prescriptions issued, hormones purchased and installed (or however they are adminstered these days) and my androgynous form will become feminised, and one day I will be woman enough to attract a man. Time to grow up, I guess.


:.-)

the end of androgyny?

IN response to the "Smell of Friendly Man" post at my general blog (I May Well Be..), Anonymous said...

dear norrie-may,it was with some sadness i read of your current distress over the lack of a meaningful relationship in your life. i've followed your web site for a while, and we even met briefly at uwa about 25 years ago.

now i don't want to be hard, but it seems a bit rich to complain of lack of sexual attention when you've gone out of your way to remove (or not add) any distinguishing sexual characteristics. or more bluntly, with no tits and no dick it's no wonder the phone ain't ringing.

i'm reminded of plastic surgeons who cut off the occasional additional toe or finger that crops up in newborns. this procedure is often entirely cosmetic, with some attendant risk from the anaesthesia. but six fingers is a huge turn off for many people. so you either turn the child into a postergirl to educate the world about how silly it is to be turned off by six fingers, or you cut it off. so i suppose you've done your best to educate the world how silly it is to be constrained by notions of male/female, though at an individual level it still seem the best advice for anyone who changes gender is to go all out for it. fabulous tits, muscular arms, whatever. stack on those secondary sexual characteristics, get yourself a date and someone who'll care for you.

regards,

christopher

-------------------------------

I think Christopher may well be right.

If I want to play the game, I have to have the right equipment.

This may be my Lenten journey, going towards the end of my hormone-free body, to be recast with secondary sex characterstics into a new life with more possiblities.

I am trying not to make a decision until Mercury stops its retrograde movement (March 26), but I am already grieving the end of my androgynous body. Or perhaps I am just grieving its lack of sexual attractiveness. It tried so hard. It's gone from blobby eunuch to athleticly toned trim flexible dancer, and it has partied, danced, done shows, networked, socialised, and so on, but without attracting a single spark of sexual interest.

It may well be that time is up for it, the fifteen year experiment concluded, the conclusion that I can't be sexually attractive without secondary sexual characteristics, and I need to be sexually attractive, so bring on those hormones doctor.

Life is change.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

no ho or not no ho, is that the question?

Is this my crisis for Lent? How well do I stay to my true course when I feel threatened?

I am seriously comtemplating going back on hormones, to become chemically sexually attractive.

Is this true to my androgynous nature? Am I really so androgynous? Does my sexual desire for men indicate that I am somehow female in my core? I feel feminine in my actions and movements, but inside I feel like me, I don't know how others feel, sometimes I think I'm just a girl, sometimes I think I'm no different to any girly queen, I certainly have no regrets about my body being male in the past, but I really like my body as it is, although I could just maybe stand the effects of hormones, and I certainly don't think I can stand being sexually unattractive to every man. I don't want breasts. But I don't want to be chemically unattractive more than I don't want breasts, and I don't expect huge knockers anyway.

I'm really having to ask myself why I don't take hormones. When I quit them fifteen years ago (two years after sex change surgery), I just wanted to be clean of them, to be myself, and to not have who I am be dependent on a bottle of pills, to not have to buy myself from the shops. Or maybe I stopped hormones because I was traumatised by being threatened by a man who was angry when he found out I was not "a real woman" (a situation I am now more likely to avoid, by being hormone free and therefor looking less female), and/or traumatised from the gang rape that happened later that night (by boys who thought I was female, and again, I am less likely to be subject to that now that I am off hormones)... and maybe I'm older and faster and stronger and wiser and I will not be so threatened by situations like that again even if I take hormones.

Christ says there is neither male nor female in the ideal state, nor any other division (the other examples given being Greek or Jew, Master or Slave). Am I diminishing my commitment to following my truth if I take something to assume a female chemistry?

It may be that following my own course, if that is androgyny, then that may only allow celibacy, through being chemically sexually neutral to men. Is this part of my cross to bear?

Or should I just stop being a damned martyr and take the bloody hormones and give myself a decent chance of getting a decent fellow? Is my disdain for buying hormones just misplaced pride or hubris or an outdated post traumatic stress reaction? Maybe chemical androgyny causes celibacy, and I don't want celibacy, I don't, I really really don't.

I don't want to take hormones, but more, I don't want to be celibate. Is it a choice of one or the other?

I love my androgyny.

And maybe I just have to loosen my attachment to this eunuch state and join the rest of the chemically gendered human race.

Eww, it's just not ME

God help me.

Monday, March 06, 2006

The Smell of Friendly Man

I went out with Gadget to Oxford Street on Friday night, and made brief eye contact with a few guys, who lost interest quickly, which I put down to them working out how effeminate I am, when they are looking for a man. I woke up crying uncontrollably Saturday morning, cried all morning, and cancelled my planned trip to Villawood (to support the people detained there without charge or fair reason by our racist fascist government), because I kept breaking down in tears, and was not in a state to support anyone else.

Saturday was the day of the Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras. There seemed not to be anything about my sexuality to celebrate. My sexuality just puts me apart from all desirable humans. A sissy boy is just an object of ridicule, not lust. I refuse to get artifical breast impants, I refuse to be dependent on commercially supplied hormones, and I really like my body as it is, androgynous, slim, boyish, girlish, ambiguous, faerie. I insist on just being a girly boy with a quim, but there is no demand for that. My sexuality is just an empty unfed unfeedable unwanted beast.

Trans men, there is a demand for. "Guys with pies", as one phrase has it, appeal to people who like men, because it is masculinity that is attractive, more than a particular plumbing arrangment. Girls with boy's bodies but without the bits boys find interesting (ie the boy bits)... there' s just not much call for it. Well, not with men. Women, yeah, sure, and if only I were gynophilic I would be well partnered. But I'm not, and I'm not, and I haven't been for years now.

Or maybe it's because I am hypercritical, or because I find the preoccupations of ordinary people to be uninteresting, repulsive, or insane (eg devotion to the violence-enforced authority of the state, the breeding activities of actors, or any bullshit physical competition performed by avatars for the commercial consumption of non-particpant fat passive absorbent spectators). Yeah, well, there you go, I'm not the most easy going social creature.

Whatever the cause, I have been without a boyfriend for years, and there is no sign at all of that changing. So, I cried on and off all day, trying to keep the noise down, losing a lot of salt, and often making breathing difficult.

A male housemate came home late, and when I had managed to stop crying long enough to look passably human, I joined him in the lounge room to watch something I'd taped from television earlier. We sat together on the couch for half an hour watching the video. My equilibrium returned. Just breathing in his body odour and/or pheromones seemed to reset my chemistry to functionable. If I was only twenty years younger...

But maybe I just need to breathe him in every day or so. He chooses to spend time with me, and seems to like talking with me. He hasn't shown any sign that I'm sexually interesting to him, and that's fair enough. I don't find even my own lovely quim at all as sexually interesting as an erect penis, so I can understand and accept that sexual preference (shaped by gender or sex or race or age or accent or hair style or whatever) often precludes me.

There will be contact improv dance class on Wednesday (I did finally get to a class on time, and have had fun rolling around with my fellow humans at three classes now), and I will be able to inhale some male sweat there too. And probably just getting some fun and friendly human body contact is good for my human chemistry.

I tell ya, I could really do with some more effective strategies to avoid or deal better with these tragic days waking in tears, unable to find an optimistic thought about my feelings.

Or just make sure I sneak a whiff of friendly man on a more frequent basis.

sex work on the radio

I had a chunky bit on this show about sex work, broadcast last Friday on Triple J's Hack program

Go to twenty minutes in for the loser lead-in...

http://www.abc.net.au/triplej/hack/mod_windows/fri.asx

This link will only be good for a week, I expect.

Friday, March 03, 2006

Bent for Lent

At our fortnightly church supper, Dorothy read an article she wrote about Lent (check out tomorrow's Melbourne Age), basically three schools of thought about how one might reflect on Jesus following his course true even into death.

One angle that I get is that I have to stay true to my own course, and not compromise it to alleviate the emotional anguish or slight mental discomfort of unwilling abstinence. It really is a matter of belief, and while the Universe may be trying to bring me the good stuff I want, it is also obliged to bring me the bad stuff I focus on, because it just brings me what I believe in, good or bad. And in my brain there have been a lot of thoughts pretty much amounting to I am not / have not been/ am not likely to be sexually attractive to a healthy man. These thoughts tend to come up whenever I think about wanting a lover, because I then reflect on my record. And they are completely counter-productive.

I think I have to just stay on my course, abandon any conformative notions like going on hormones or dressing as one particular gender or getting cosmetic surgery or altering my behaviour to follow the agendas of others.

Yesterday morning, on waking, I had a moment. I was thinking of God, and I felt that I was in our church with our little congregation, and really felt comfortable and connected to the Universe, that God loves me, and if I put my faith in that, then my beliefs will shift, and therefor so will my experienced reality.

People have all sorts of agendas, conflicting, shifting, some based on love/good feelings/good intent, some unexamined and based on fear. Following them is a pretty dangerous idea. But I can be more in control and mindful of my own agenda, and have faith in God (who loves me, and will bring me the lover I want when I stop sending counter-productive signals), which will increase the quality of my beliefs and my thoughts and what I do and what I pay attention to, and therefor increase the quality of my manifested reality.

I'm giving up other people's agendas for Lent.

I'm giving up any influence of normativity. I resolutely reject the hegemony, and resolve to stay even truer to my own light. And trust God.

I can be uptight or depressed or anxious or desperate... OR I can trust God. That's not a tough choice. As long as I remember to keep making it! (Oh, but the seductiveness of emotional intensity and angst and drama.... yeah, FEH! I want the good stuff, thanks, and to accept no subsitutes!)