Dick

“Boy” illustrated by Toby

As a trans woman, I will never get bottom surgery. I love my dick. I love how it feels, I love pleasuring myself, and I love how it looks. I love the word “Dick” and all its meanings. I’ve never felt dysphoric about my dick, and that makes me no less of a woman. Womanhood has and will continue to change me so much physically and emotionally, but I will always have my dick.

I don’t want to be reduced down to just my genitals. Trans people are treated as inherently sexual while shamed for expressing their sexuality. I don’t want people thinking about the genitals I have or thinking my gender expression is some kink. I just want to live my life as a woman and have people truly see me as one.

Dating a trans woman or even finding one attractive is seen as a joke to so many cishet people. Genitalia seems to be all that matters to them. I’ve never understood having a “preference” for the genitals your partner has. Genitals shouldn’t change your attraction.

We deserve to be loved by more than just each other. The genitals you’re attracted to don’t define your sexuality, you do, and society as a whole needs to deconstruct this association. What you like is for you and your partners alone to know. Identify with whatever makes you happy and stop caring about how others identify.

Few people want to even date us, and we still have wants of our own that need to be met. Chasers, cis people who date exclusively trans people are a real threat to us too. We’re treated as sex objects to them and pressured into pausing our transitions because they don’t see us as our desired gender. They prey on us because a lot of us are vulnerable people.

I feel like I’m forced into bisexuality to open myself up to as much as possible but I don’t know if that’s what I am. I’ve only been in one relationship my whole life, which ended as a negative experience for the both of us because I stayed much longer than I should’ve. I was not being treated well at all, but I felt like I had to cling on to what felt like my one chance at love.

I feel like my presence in public alone is wrong and perverse. I hate being perceived. I don’t like attention. I want to disappear. Being a transgender woman takes so much confidence, but it’s confidence I’ve never had. Being trans makes everything so much harder than before.

Mirrors only make me realize how ugly I feel. Trying to put makeup on only makes me feel worse. I want to feel beautiful. I want to be confident. I want to be loved. I want to see what I can become but is it even worth all the suffering it causes me?

I hate having to talk and hear about how transphobia affects cis people too as if transphobia affecting trans people isn’t enough to make people care. I’m tired of cis women speaking over us and policing our identities. Cis women are just as capable of harm towards trans people as cis men are and I’m sick of people thinking they aren’t.

I hate my body hair, it never stops growing. I have to shave almost daily. My skin is covered in razor burns and ingrown hairs from cheap razors and the sloppy job I do. There’s always a spot I miss. I don’t want to have to put effort into shaving. I just want it gone.

I hate my voice, it prevents me from talking so often. Every word I speak I decide to talk with my normal masculine voice and feel like shit, or force myself to soften my voice, being forced to repeat myself multiple times because I’m not loud enough. I just want a feminine voice but I have no motivation to voice train at all.

I hate how I can’t cry. I’m miserable all of the time, yet I’m incapable of producing a single tear. Male socialization has fucked my whole life up. I feel like I’m past the point of crying. I feel like an emotionless husk. I wish I could sob until I physically couldn’t anymore.

I hate how I can’t make friends. Everything changed for me when I realized I was queer. I can’t talk to people at all. I can’t make eye contact for the life of me. My social skills are horrible. I’m just so unconfrontational. I’ve only made friends by having people talk to me first. I’m physically incapable of speaking first. I run out of things to talk about with others so easily.

I hate that it has to be me that talks first if I want to meet people. Classmates turn to anyone but me to speak to. I just want someone I can connect with. I’ve only ever felt true happiness when I’ve had friends but I’ve been alone for so long.

I hate how I never got to have a real relationship with my family. I was close with my older brother until addiction changed him for the worse. I’m glad he’s better now but things will never be the same between us. I love my younger brother and he really looks up to me, but we’ve never been close. I stuck to my older brother when I should have stuck to him. I’ve never been close with my parents. They’ve always been very out of touch with my life and still are. I only really talk to them when I’m back home, but even then it’s not often.

I hate being alone. I exist in so many spaces but I can never feel a sense of belonging. Nobody knows what goes on in my life. I want to tell people how my day went, how I feel, things I’ve done, but I can’t. I’m too depressed to make friends, but I’m so depressed because I can’t. I’ve spent so much of my life running, hiding from my identity, hiding because I can only feel safe when I’m alone. I don’t have to perform for anybody when I’m alone.

I’ve thought about killing myself hundreds of times, my reasons, how I’d be remembered, who would care, all the times I’ve fucked up, and all the times I’ve embarassed myself. It’s become a daily thought, but I’m too much of a coward to ever really do it. I just have nothing going for me. I have no plans for my future and I’m doing nothing with my life. Me living has no impact on others. I don’t see things ever getting better.

I know my problems and how they can be fixed, but it’s too much to handle. I feel a crushing weight on top of me preventing me from ever making change. I get so upset over the smallest things. Therapy has never helped me. My days move from one deadline to the next. I spend all my time wasting away online. I’m tired of being alone. I fight every day to stay alive, but I don’t understand why.

I feel pathetic. I want things to get better but I know they never will. Every time things look up in my life something bad always happens. Things look more grim for trans people, and in general, every day. I have no motivation to do anything more than the bare minimum. There is just no pleasure in continuing to live.

Art by Viridescence