Aguilas Off Pine

Month: October 2021

Wanting Not so Much as to Transition

Aguilar

Last week I went out with a friend to Rough Trade in Silver Lake and purchased another set of leather gear. I had a cheaper one, fake leather, this was the real deal. I needed to go to purchase leather arm bands for a Halloween costume and had invited Ben to come along. The store itself was great, the service perhaps a little too friendly, but I was happy with what I had purchased. Butch, masculine, hot, all these words ran through my mind while I flexed into the mirror of the dressing room. The attendant was quick to compliment my body hair and was letting me undress in the middle of the store to try on more gear, a stark contrast to the local store in Long Beach that hadn’t let me try on a harness without a shirt on. Ben seemed a little underwhelmed with the attention he was getting at the store, or perhaps had wanted to join in. I wasn’t sure whether the attendant was his type and I didn’t know how to tell him I was just playing along to see if I could get a discount or freebies.

Yes, I have no problem admitting I am that sleazy and available.

We left there and after a quick detour for ramen, headed to the Eagle with our gear under our street clothes. I had let him know that I had been there recently and stuck with my friends, most of the guys seemed these unapproachable packs of white, hypermasculine alphas. The vibe this night was different, a slightly more diverse crowd but largely still crowds of friends sticking to each other and not leaving much room for strangers to approach. We fell into the same pattern until a handsome stranger came our way. There’s nothing exciting coming next though. I learned Ben is even quieter than I and at some point we both let the conversation drop and the handsome stranger wandered away. Moments passed when I realized I should have asked anything to have kept the conversation going. These moments in the bar happen quicker than on the work site, where I can leave space to gather my thoughts, although there the contractors have to let me talk.

I had been angling to go to Puteria in downtown LA and Ben eventually agreed that would be the better spot. We headed out and drank and danced till the shirts came off and our harnesses were on display. It was the point of the night that other guys were taking their shirts off and we weren’t the only ones with light gear on. By the end of the night, back at his place and in his own way, Ben noted that he was somewhat jealous of the attention I had received. I was serving masculinity, muscle bear top, short king. I was disturbed to discover one of the guys I had made out with was looking for masc4masc on Grindr and had written an article on how to attract a masculine boyfriend.

All this over attributes I’ve either been forced to adapt, for ease of work purposes, or never had any control over, the copious amounts of body hair.

Yesterday at the gym I had what I saw someone on Twitter summarize as trans thoughts and I wondered what all the guys I talked to last weekend would have to say about that. When I had brought it up in prior sessions of therapy my current therapist hadn’t seemed to care? Maybe she hadn’t noted it down or I just hadn’t given it the weight. I had told her, “I wished I had been born a girl, so that these grown men and women would have treated me as a child rather than a young man.” In the context of our conversation regarding childhood trauma, it seems easy to imagine she had other topics to cover. Recently I mentioned these thoughts and she discounted them, perhaps didn’t catch them again. It’s not that I believe she’s uncomfortable with the topic but it does seem like she doesn’t have much experience with trans individuals. Not that I want to transition…

I was stoned and adding music to my playlist and I remembered Laura Jane Grace in Against Me!’s lyrics, “You’ve got no cunt in your strut/ You’ve got no hips to shake…” and “A fucked up kind of feminine.” A wave of emotional resonance passed through me, the weed doing its job to inhibit my emotional guards. The next second, an unease and queasiness emanated from my stomach and I thought to myself, “I thought I was over this.”

Lately I’ve been trying to accept the parts of my personality that come from the traditional way I was raised, full on Mexican machismo. My mother still won’t admit to it, but there’s a reason I’m able to get along with my conservative, old school coworkers. These are men, we are men, and we’re working together to complete construction projects. Grunt! No feelings! Anyone who gets overly emotional gets mocked, although I’ve gotten worked up and shown the range of feelings stemming from anger that are appropriate for men. I’m sadly more scared to join our design teams because there are more women and I don’t know how I’ll fare there and stay closeted. It’s not too hard to dodge relationship questions, because again, these are traditional men. Most of them are easy to set off on a rant about their wives and just want sounding boards. I’ve even stopped trying to lose weight and have focused on just gaining muscle and fat, getting bigger and heavier. The last break through at therapy was that it was totally ok to throw down to defend myself. My words not hers, but the more clinical way she put it isn’t as funny.

So I was surprised to still be imagining myself as a woman, desiring my body to be lighter and curvier in their way. In the past I know I have recoiled at the attention I got from other men, hidden myself from the male gaze. Lately though, I had been feeling more comfortable in that spotlight, had been defending myself from unwanted touching and had even experienced a resurgence in my libido. So again, why now?

Perhaps more terrifying was the thought, “What if this never goes away?” What if I will always find myself desiring to have been born a woman. To the questions of what superpower I would want, I have often answered shapeshifting and mentioned wanting to be able to switch between man and woman. Flight was the other frequent answer, to fly rather than run from my problems. Often too, I have lamented that I wish I were a lesbian, with all its implications. I see the chasm I could cross but like a green light across the lake, I will not reach it.

I don’t want to undergo an expensive process and find myself regretting it, desiring the ability to pass again as a straight man when necessary. Look at today. I have walked about 10 minutes away from where I parked, perhaps more actually because the entire time I was looking at my phone, chatting away with my cousins. I will walk back through downtown Los Angeles to my car, drop off my laptop, and go get myself into trouble. I couldn’t do this so easily were I woman. My costume for this adventure? My work boots, business casual attire, a jean jacket and my virility. It’s not that I won’t be fucked with if I stupidly walk into Skid Row, it’s that I am not scared to wander around on my own.

Also, the body hair will be really hard to get rid off… And there’s a lot of that!

Stepping into Kink and BDSM: Taking Inventory of my Mental State Before the Journey

Aguilar

Dan Savage hosted Leigh Cowart to chat about their book Hurts So Good: The Science and Culture of Pain on Purpose on this week’s episode of Savage Love. As I was listening during work, I only caught bits of it but was excited to learn that our bodies and brains are complex enough to be able to interpret physical pain during sex as something erotic, to take into consideration that you’re in an aroused state and let you enjoy what in another situation would only be pain. I have wanted to explore BDSM, have my ropes and regularly ask guys to bite a little harder, but have been too scared to jump further in. I’m afraid of triggering some trauma response, especially right now when I feel I am doing so well. Plus, I’m still carrying around this shame for how I used to be in the bedroom, often channeling anger and insecurity to hammer away, to choke a little harder, to take out frustrations on mine and my partner’s bodies. This was back when I couldn’t bottom either, too angry and insecure in my sexuality to relax.  I’m also ashamed of how I used to be in the bedroom, often channeling anger and insecurity to hammer away, to choke a little harder, to take out frustrations on mine and my partner’s bodies. That’s why my sex drive had lowered since my first bout with therapy and now I’m looking to learn how to enjoy sex, pain, and pleasure to bring that drive back.  

I am going to read Cowart’s book but felt it apt to write an initial post that I can look back on, to take stock of how far I’ve come.

First, contrition for how I behaved in the past with hookups and long-term partners. I remember once waking up next to my college boyfriend and seeing all the markings I had left on his body, mostly hickies and hard slaps. I was tracing them out and we chatted about it. He said, admittedly, his friends asked him about the marks because in their med courses he routinely volunteered to take his shirt off and let them… listen to his heart? He didn’t mind it he said, but was annoyed that one of his friends said out loud that she couldn’t imagine what kind of person could enjoy receiving so much pain during sex. Clearly, my ex did and I were able to have ongoing conversations about the kind of sex we were having. Not as much for the guys I was hooking up with. I enjoyed ravishing men back then, thrusting in anger, slapping away frustration and rage. I am not there anymore, but I remember the need to feel large, imagining greatness while I was manhandling my partners.

I want to make clear I don’t feel guilty for my actions, but my intent. That was my stress relief, my therapy, when I was young. The guys I got with seemed to enjoy it, although every once in a while a guy would tell me I was a little rough the last time or complain that something was still too sore. I recall a guy telling me his nipples felt like they had chafed and that he seriously didn’t like it. I remember laughing at his text message, although in response to him I said something like, “Thanks for letting me know. I’m sorry and it won’t happen again.” I wasn’t planning on seeing him again, as back then I would already have been looking for the next guy, but neither would I have him on the list of guys I would send the infamous text, “You looking?”

Back then I wasn’t interested in their pleasure, or mine even, I just needed a release. So, once I started going to therapy, I was releasing and processing the wrath and hurt that used to drive these urges and my sex drive went down for a while. It came back for a time while I was a construction manager, working 60-80 hours a week and desperately needing a way to relieve tension. I’ve switched out of that environment and have resumed therapy, so now I’m learning ways to prioritize pleasure and joy, which has brought on its own drive. I’m still looking for release, but now it’s orgasmic and sexual release, not rage and fury driving me to the bedroom. The kind of sex I’m looking for now, the kinks I want to explore, these adventures can’t be so selfish because I’ll be looking to repeat with people, find a community of like-minded heathens.

Second, the idea of building up a community of pleasure is exciting and will be necessary for my journey into kink and BDSM. I have long term casual relationships, one that is for now only digital but I’m hoping he returns from Florida, and in the past two to three years have started making friends through friends with benefits. I find it necessary to note that we are actual friends, we meet up and hang out without sex being the primary reason, but it’s not uncommon for us all to end up somewhere, multiple bodies arranged naked and on each other. Thus far we have managed to avoid drama and perhaps it’s because there’s an informal vetting process before someone is there for the group sex, usually prior connections are drawn in to form new connections. As far as safety in kink and BDSM communities goes, from what I’ve heard on Dan Savage’s show, there is a less informal vetting process.

I’m hoping to exploit that vetting process to allow myself to feel safe, especially since I’ve had a very specific submissive scenario in mind since youth. I’ve held back on exploring kink and BDSM because I’m scared of being taken advantage of, of not being strong enough to defend myself or not being aware enough to hear my body expressing discomfort. The fantasy itself is colored by my childhood trauma and I likely shouldn’t enact the scene to the full extent. In this scene a hot domme ties me up and whips me, or paddles me, or in more recent fantasies, uses a dildo on me; the darker version has always had me using my anger to break out of the bindings, strong enough to flex them off, then use my massive cock to take out the anger on her. I suspect this scenario will remain in the background of my conscious thoughts, even as I explore the more realistic and healthier parts of it. To truly enact the scene to its fullest, I would need a domme that trusts me enough to put my hands on her. As I play and explore, I may find that the reality of such a scenario, the safeguards and restraint so as not to hurt the other person, may make it more work than it’s worth. However, I want to be clear that I’m not complaining about that, especially because I believe most of my kink partners will be men, some stronger than me. In the same way that I would want to know that these guys are gentle before and after a scene, that I can trust them not to hurt me outside of and beyond the scenario, I know any women I approach will want to know that of me. This is what I mean by exploiting the vetting process, making it work for me but also being aware of and wanting to build that security for others.

The above is really the second and third point. The second being that it’s cool to have sex with people whose presence outside of the bedroom you enjoy. The third is that the community helps keep you safe, because you’re going to be in compromising positions during scenarios. Fourth on my mind is that I have begun to allow myself, thanks to therapy, to aggressively defend myself against people who are not mindful of my boundaries. In short, my mother made me feel guilty whenever I used physical force to defend myself, warranted or not. So, in the past I have had moments of doubt before raising a hand to push away someone and panicked in crowds out of fear from scenarios in which I’d have to assert my physical presence. Wanting to not be seen in a crowd and wanting to have my physical space respected it is a difficult problem to solve. I have sidestepped this aspect of the issue because I don’t go to festivals anymore, the bands playing at these aren’t those I like enough to want to stand around in a field and the active bands I listen to now and tend to play in tiny venues or large concerts and stadiums.

It’s at bathhouses that I’ve learned how to defend myself. I was in a darkroom making out with someone and felt hands start to touch my butt and asshole. I quickly got annoyed because their fingers were too quickly invasive but first, I brushed the hands away softly but eventually grabbed wrists, threw the hand and firmly pushed the entire person away from me. I had to do that to a couple different guys, they had crowded around in that dark room, but they got the message. It didn’t register until later when I was taking inventory of the night and wondering whether it was time to go that I flashed back to an earlier cruise through the bathrooms and had a very different reaction to guys trying to do that without even the implied consent of scooting my butt toward them. An earlier time, a guy had come up behind me suddenly while I was making out with someone and tried to get a finger in as his opening move. I had stopped, pushed him away, but didn’t resume, instead I headed for the showers and left, my entire night ruined by this one awful interaction. I had every right to defend myself and to expect that my body would be treated with respect. But I was happier by how I had handled it this time, asserting myself and insisting on it, but also not letting it ruin my whole visit, not even registering until later in the day.

In summary, I am going to read Hurts So Good: The Science and Culture of Pain on Purpose and at the same time challenge myself to step into the kink community. I have reflected on the way I used pain and sex in the past and know the importance of prioritizing pleasure over hurting others. Second, I enjoy and want to continue building friendships around mutual sexual interest. Third, I want the safety and trust of the community to play out my fantasies and know I need to respect the others in that community, do the work, to build trust. Finally, I feel that I’ve recently come into a position in my life where I can assert and defend myself without panicking over that.

Best regards to future me!