Hard Rituals. In which I resolve to keep my gender's yellow safety on.

My partner and I moved to Oakland from Seattle in January. And having cycled in both cities I have to say that it often seems like nobody in Oakland wears a helmet when they're riding their bike*. Now I totally see the appeal in that. I see cyclists wearing funky hats and rocking kick ass hairdos. And I kind of envy their freedom. Especially since (when properly trimmed) I like to coax my own hair into a something between a pompadour and a mohawk:

This hairstyle really can't survive being stuffed into a helmet. Despite how awesome it would be to ride around looking fly and feel the wind move through my bouffant, I don't feel safe when riding without my helmet. I'd get the chance to look more like me if I stopped wearing one. But I think I would stop acting like myself if I decided to stop wearing it. 

Wearing a helmet is part of my politics and process as a cyclist. It shows that I believe in prevention and preparedness when it comes to taking risks associated with moving through a world made for cars on something that is distinctly not a car. It's bright yellow dome is an advertisement about my concern for my own safety and my awareness of the risk I am taking on. It shows that I know how to take care of me.

Last night my partner and I had one of our first serious talks about the possibility of me taking testosterone (inspired by our new favorite TV show). When he asked me how I felt I took a long time and gave my answer as an incomplete list of feels (lists help me cope):

Complicated

Attracted

Conflicted

Frustrated

Ashamed

Scared

Complicated was a segue into everything else. But let's address the fear first. I fear medical procedures of any kind. I fear that my sensitivity to most medications and chemicals would make introducing testosterone into my system a change too enormous for my psyche to handle. I fear I will lose that very sensitivity. It can be a burden sometimes but I cherish it deeply. I fear losing the ability to cry. I fear that taking testosterone will make my masculinity (more) hostile, that it will turn me into a Bad Guy. I fear losing my ease of empathy. (this list goes on and on)

But the changes T would likely evoke in me are also attractive in many ways. I'd like a higher muscle to fat ratio. I want to be able to grow (more and darker) facial hair. I want to not have to hide curves to get the look I want when wearing mens clothes. It'd be a relief not to feel I have to "put on" any clothes or behaviors to be seen for who I am.

This is where the frustration, conflict, and eventually shame come into play. Granted I think I'd look good with many of the characteristics T would bring out. But I also feel angry and disappointed in myself for being attracted to/seduced by that. Because I like the way my body looks now. And I see the masculine in it. So do many of the people close to me. I love my body for the way it is now. I don't want to give it up. It kind of feels like I'd be abandoning a part of myself I am comfortable with, just to satisfy what I feel are the false standards of masculinity.** My demanding others see the masculinity in my big breasted, wide-hipped, and sweet-faced casing subverts these standards. It challenges convention by requiring those who associate with me to rethink what they learned about gender and body.

The ugly and common underside of this is that my demands are often rebuffed. People (even those I love and who love me) will refuse to recognize me by willfully ignoring my pronoun preference. And when I try to explain myself or my gender I'm sometimes blamed for the confusion and subsequent discomfort of others. If all that sounds tiring that's because it is. It's a lot of work. 

But for now the set of demands my identity requires is an honor and a privileged I'm willing to pay for. Making these demands is a ritual I give my energy to every day.*** Just like the practice of securing the straps of my helmet under my chin, it's tiresome and restrictive. It keeps me from appearing to others in exactly the way I'd like, but for the most part the security it grants me, and the hard message it sends, are currently necessary to my being.

*In California the law only requires that those under 18 wear a helmet. While there isn't a state law regarding helmets in Washington state, King County law requires all riders to wear one.

** This is absolutely my personal perspective on my own transition process and is in no way fit to apply to or reflect the transition or rationale of other trans people.

*** I'm no martyr. I know that I may not be able to "pay" this price of my energy forever and that a transition into a gender role society will readily accept may be in my future. I just want to fight while I feel I can.

An Open Letter to Anti-Porn and Anti-Kink Feminists/Activists

I attended a take back the night event last night at SCCC hoping for a re-imagining of how to make streets safer for everyone. How to make them freer of violence both physical and otherwise. I was nervous coming in. I have lingering issues with institutions of higher learning (as a first gen college attendee & someone who has been asked to leave a college program). I got lost in the building that had told me in authoritative white letters at the entrance that said "only students beyond this point". I had the harrowing feeling I used to have in college. I felt afraid someone would point me out as a nonbelonger and that I would be 86ed.

Eventually I stopped being lost & found the room. Inside there were two friends who both gave me much needed hugs. This helped immensely. The room itself felt both jovial and anxious. There were folks wearing stickers that said "If you can't imagine a world without porn.... then you're fucked" (as if fucked is the worst thing you can be).

I was heartened by the first few announcements which included a welcome and a support person from the counseling office letting folks know that they were available if anyone became distressed or got triggered. The use of the word "trigger" gave me good feelings

The first speaker to come up and begin talking in earnest about the night’s intents and activities began to talk about pornography as an incarnation of misogyny and violence against women. In an effort to construct an argument she listed several types of penetration as well as money shots as evidence of exploitation. She also told the story of another Take Back the Night event
where dissenting bystanders were brought to a local porn shop which had a prominent display of “torture porn”. She spoke with what I interpreted as disgust about the bruises and other evidence of pain play that was on display.That was the moment I felt most acutely that I should leave.

I began to feel that the writing I had brought to share (which was specifically about generating consent culture between everyone) where not appropriate for this event. I would not have felt comfortable or supported sharing my stories about being assaulted by women. In that moment I felt as if the space was specifically focused to discuss herterosexual male-to-female violence. I felt my preferences and wants being erased & pathologized. I felt encouraged to censor myself rather than extend compassionate/considerate consentful communication about needs/wants and boundaries. I felt very clearly that I was being asked to impose on myself an oppressive restriction over my own wants/preferences. Because well...

I like simulated exploitation. I like bruises. These are (some of) my preferences. They are not disgusting (as some find them to be). The denial of my wants/preferences is what is.

Porn does not directly cause cultural misogyny &/or violence against women. The vast majority of what comes out if the industry certainly subscribes to and profits greatly from the cultures of violence and misogyny but it didn't invent it nor doesn't hold the whole of these destructive forces in its realm. Messages about violence and misogyny and anti-consent start way before a kid sees their first porno.

Channelling rage against porn (and kink) in this way is not useful. It will have little/no effect on a hugely successful industry, but even more than that: it stomps all over the agency of any woman or otherwise non-privileged person (folks of color and trans folks) participating in sex work or kink. I could not stand for/with the way the speaker erased the agency of (female) sex-workers (film stars) and kinky folks and even pathologized them exclusively as victims. This is why I chose to leave the room. Women, hell, people in general, don’t need to be saved from their sexual choices and preferences.

I understand the caring impetus behind wanting to divest violence from sex. It has been a point of dissonance I am still struggling to resolve. But I want to do more than just critique what happened last night. I want to at least offer an explanation and entry point for folks who are unfamiliar with kink and sex- & sexworker-positive culture.

I'd like to propose a new language for fucking. Let’s talk about engaging in sexual activity in terms of "lead" and "follow" (you can substitute the words “give” & “receive/take”). I hope that by using this language I can draw a parallel between the experiences of folks who prefer vanilla/nonkinky sex and those who enjoy to kinky sex.

A feature common to kinky sex is the (often vilified) use of the roles of dom/sub
or top/bottom. A good way for folks who prefer vanilla sex to conceptualize these roles would be for them to think first about their own sexual activities or fantasies. In those scenarios who leads and who follows?

Even in the least kinky of intimate activities shared between more than one person someone leads & someone else consents to follow. To say that this lead/follow power dynamic is inherently misogynist or sexist (even if they aftermath such as bruises cuts and scars are disturbing to you personally) denies the person in the role of follower any ability to consent. It can also pigeonhole them as powerless victims. It also denies the incredible care, energy, and responsibility it takes to lead/top/dom another person through an intensely vulnerable experience.

The position of follow can and often is rife with power and agency. The role of lead, however extreme it may look, can and often is full of awareness and a beautiful sense of collaboration and athletic-style encouragement. When a person takes on a role of less/more power within the boundaries of sex/play it does not mean they are tied to that role of power in any other way. Healthy BSDM requires an high level of awareness surrounding power dynamics, it does not always but certainly can actually contribute to better and more regular practices of consent.

Part of the fun of sex is the process of working with our words and bodies to navigate the tension between whether you/your partner(s) will follow their/your lead. Often in a kinky context an important facet of the play/sex is that folks are pushing the limits of how far they can go in the roles of lead and follow.Think of this as them being serious athletes seeking to push their limits


Yes there is a risk and sometimes a simulation of risk but it is not uncommon at all for humans to engage in situations of risk or simulated risk to push themselves to new level or even just for the rush of it (rollar coasters come to mind). There have even been studies that demonstrate sexual and romantic arousal to be more likely in situations of heightened danger or risk.

Like endurance-based athleticism, kink is not for everyone for reasons both physiological related to personal and preference.


Regardless of how far a person wants/doesn’t want to push/be pushed in their sex there will always be a tension between the position of lead and follow-- between the objectifier and the objectified, between Dom & sub or top and bottom. The decision of how to approach that tensions in a way that would be most pleasurable and least damaging is a decision best left to the individual and those with whom they share their sex lives. To mandate a level of “safe” or “nonviolent” sex without leaving space for that variances of sexual tension would sanitize and sedate so many sex lives. We can’t get rid of objectification and the lead/follow roles it involves (without drugs/surgery). It’s the support structure of sex itself. Sex is the agreement to enter into the lead or follow position of drawn out, intimate objectification. You either lead with your objectification or follow in being objectified by the leader. This process of objectification is not dirty. It is what human animals do.