Response to post: http://androgynish.tumblr.com/post/27626399560/thinking-about-gender-and-sex
I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, so I’m glad you opened the door for communication. Some background…
I’ve been out as gender-queer for almost two years (in October). It’s been a process. My gender identity and expression - as well as my sexual orientation, romantic orientation, and sexuality - are extremely fluid. So, sometimes it’s hard to know how I feel or what’s going on. I’ve definitely had my fair share of doubt and wondering if “it really was just a phase” (which is always way scarier than discovering new identities within myself) and going back around and realizing, no, not even, definitely still super queer.
As of now, I identify as a Fluid Poly-romantic Pansexual Gender-Queer FAAB. (If anyone who reads this needs clarification as to what some, any, or all of those mean, feel free to ask. I’ll be happy to explain.)
I started dating my current partner almost 3 months (on the 27th) ago - we’ve been sleeping together the majority of that time. She is a lesbian-identified, cisgender FAAB. I had two partners previous to my current, but all-in-all, my current partner is my first real sexual partner. (My previous experience was limited for a lot of different reasons.) For the most part, I’m the dom in the relationship. (I’ve considered myself vers for a while, but this situation works out well.)
Furthermore, sex has always been an interesting thing for me. I was raised in an environment where it was fine to talk about and have always been totally cool talking about it in a third party sense. But when it comes to me and my sex life? Oh noooo. Nope, not happening. Not so chill to talk about it after the fact, but even less okay to talk about with my partners, and especially in the moment or regarding my preferences sexually. I’m completely open to hear what my partner has to say and to respond and all of that, but I just can’t generally bring myself to talk about what it’s like for me. Sooooo, this is going to be interesting. Maybe typing will be all right.
Lately, the main struggle I have is that… well… sex would just be so much fucking better and cooler and awesome if I had a penis. Like, it isn’t penis envy in the basic sense. I don’t care about it most of the time, but during sex, all I want in an attached penis. And my partner tells me how great it would be, too. And it makes sex hard, especially afterwards. In the moment, I can mostly just forget about and be in what I’m doing because, you know, it’s sex and it’s awesome. But after the fact, or thinking about it now, or whatever, I get upset. I get dysphoric. I get uncomfortable. It’s even made masturbation hard. The thing about all of this is that it’s a pretty new form of dysphoria for me because it really never came up in the past. But it’s relatively prevalent now. And it kind of totally sucks.
Sometimes fantasy is whatever doesn’t do anything and sometimes it does everything. I’ve always had trouble with that internal voice you talked about telling me “no, you don’t have that”, “no, that would even work”, “no, you don’t even have three hands”. Last night was a an everything kind of night and I just went ahead and ignored that voice as much as possible. And, I gotta tell you, it was fucking awesome.
But now, in retrospect, thinking about it literally makes me want to cry. Because I CAN’T experience that with my partner, who I love and adore and enjoy in that way and in many others. I can’t share that with her, even though it would be so fucking perfect for both of us. And it hurts to think about. The scary and maybe best part really does come from exposing that vulnerability to another person and having it be accepted, having it be understood, having it be OKAY. And I can’t genuinely and honestly do that. And it fucking blows.
All-in-all, I think we’re in similar-ish boats. I don’t have any knowledge in how to handle the problems that come with all of this or how to reconcile them or how to work with them or any of that. But know that I totally hear where you’re coming from and I get it. And have experienced it, at least to a bit of an extent.