Last night I went out for some drinks with an acquaintance at the Magnolia Brewery on Haight at Masonic. We�ll call my friend �France�. Well, France and I, were sipping our deliciously strong brews, while sitting belly-up at the bar, were, let�s just say very close at the moment. Fingers, tongues and lips glided across special areas of the body as if they were lost explorers discovering exotic new worlds. Right there at the bar! Suddenly, the bane of my transsexual existence pops up to meet his awkward searching hands. I don�t ever let anyone touch there, mostly stemming out of that fear of violence once someone found out I was male born but I had to let my guard down at that moment because I thought he knew. I thought he knew that he was making out with a transsexual at that bar.

Maybe it was his SMT (Straight Male Training) that kicked in at that moment that I had asked him to come over and fuck the shit out of this beautiful bi-racial sensual kindred spirit of a transsexual goddess. �Just because you are attracted to me, doesn�t mean you are no longer straight.� I say to France. �I know.� he replies. I am eased a little by his openness. I know now that this newcomer to The City is open to new things, I should just take it slow. And honestly, I absolutely forgot I had that male part attached to me still.

I am wholly a woman. No matter how big my oversized clitoris gets. I have been living as a woman since about late last century (let�s say 1999), and not until this year have I noticed such an influx of swooning natural young handsome men, and all of them vying for my complete attention, some or most of them know that I am a transsexual; often times that�s what adds on to the attraction. But there will be those men who haven�t really gotten it yet. This is where I begin to tread lightly. I don�t want these guys to freak out on me like, BAM! It�s Gwen fucking Araujo all over again. (RIP GWEN)
Am I that passable to where I can non-purposefully fool any red blooded tom, adam and john into wanting to fuck me? That is scary. Because I know I have no reason to fool anyone. What makes me such a real person is the fact that I do specify (and have specified in the past) that I am a male-born-woman. That same fear of becoming the next Gwen Araujo is what fueled my desire to express my apparent trans-ness to the world. I feel like the main reason why I stopped being the transsexual menace so much is because it just gets so damn draining to keep reminding people about pronouns and boundaries. �Please don�t call me dude.� I remember saying to some guy last week or something.

He says he really didn�t mean to offend me. And, I think that that�s just it, people just plain don�t know about things they just don�t immerse themselves in. And, who am I to tell people I just meet that the way they are referring to me is wrong? A perfectionist? A hardass? Or am I just a human being with sensitive needs and expressive desires to share with the world? I think it has gotten to the point to where if I were to get transbashed right now, it wouldn�t really matter, you know? Like, I just remember every other bashing I�ve had performed against me in the past decade and I look in the mirror and say �Look at that resilient beautiful woman� and it starts to feel better. I am a much stronger person now than I was a decade ago by far.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gwen_Araujo

http://www.transgenderlawcenter.org/gwen/index.html

transhouston.org

http://www.glaad.org