BenFriday

Glad Introductions are over. Let’s talk about Genital Fixation. I’m a student. The awkwardness never ends there. Every few months I have to introduce myself to new people. I used to love that kind of life event. Now I forever despise it. Mostly I’m sure because it means coming out to new people, and while I don’t regret for a moment coming out I sometimes find doing so over and over a rather tiresome event. I frequently refer to my life as the picture perfect awkwardness that comes from a society that assumes it knows everything. I think that being honest about who I really am is awkward for other people. I feel sorry for them. I also feel sorry for the lack of education on Trans-matters. I look to the news for some kind of…help on this. Nothing positive there. There seems to be a rather…unexplainable Genital fixation that no one addresses. What about how we feel? I feel good today, my binder isn't itchy yet, and my bobs* are still in place. I feel free. Why, Ben? Why do you feel free? I feel free because I know no matter what happens today I’m not lying to the new people about who I am. Well I feel free for like two minutes. Then the questions come. I was raised to always tell the truth. Always. I feel like if they ask, I've got to answer. Some people say the best thing to do is tell them to Google their questions. I tried googling it myself. Some information out there is flat out wrong. Some information is out dated. I don’t think telling people to Google it is at all a good idea. The internet is not always a friendly place. Still I don’t like to be asked, “So how big is it gonna be?” ( It meaning my Penis….) Or “Is it gonna be the right color?” So before it gets to that I answer the first genital related question with, “It’s like expecting a baby. I’ve no Idea how it’s going to turn out, or how expensive it will be, but it will be worth it. So no I can’t tell you anything about that, and even if I could don’t ask.” It came as a shock to me the amount of things people don’t realize about someone else’s lifestyle. My mom assumed that since I’m now a man I don’t care what I look like as long as I look like a man. She’s wrong. She thought because I’m a man I’d want to go out and ride dirt bikes instead of decorate cakes. She’s wrong. The oversaturation of a clearly dictated gender binary sometimes overwhelms me. I think the hardest thing for people to understand is that we aren’t trying to be different people. We were always these people, we’re just getting better at expressing it now. So it was with utter lack of grace that my internet campaign was started…. Rome was not built in a day, I know, but maybe by the time my nieces and nephews are my age they won’t have to pity other people’s awkward genital focused attitudes. Or if it isn’t about my genitals it’s about my bobs1. I’m a trans-man. I don’t ever want to talk about boobs. I don’t care if you’re jealous of mine…Take them! Take them, PLEASE! It grates against every fiber of my being to talk with people whom think I’m just uncomfortable with my body. I’m not a fan of plastic surgery. I’m not vain. Okay… maybe just a little. I like to look nice, doesn't everyone? To me looking nice is not about the perfection of your body and how your clothes fit. But rather the way you feel inside your body and how you feel about yourself. My bobs are too big. I’m on no supermodel in any sense of the words, but they feel wrong. Convexly the nakedness downstairs also presents a confidence issue. When people tell me I’m a pretty girl, I want to kick bite and scream. “I’m a Man!” There is more to a woman than being pretty and more to being a man than having a penis, but I digress. Instead of biting I simply state my disagreement. It's difficult to resist the urge to not be quite as polite. Frequently I must remind myself that I'm not alone. Frequently I tell myself attitudes will change, and will myself to be nice. First impressions are important especially when you may be someone's first impression of a group they know very little about. I tell myself for every Cisgender person I educate, I save the next Transgender person the irritation. Maybe just maybe someday I'll just be some guy who used to look like a girl. Next topic: Support. (Not so much of a rant.) Bobs is what this transman calls his large saggy man boobs. It’s boobs minus an "o", because they’re on a man.

I'd like to introduce myself. Hi I'm Benjamin. I'm a T-guy who lives in Connecticut. Before I go any further let me answer some quick questions I always get. No I'm not rich. No I know being a Trans guy doesn't make me the world's foremost expert on anything and yes I'm aware being a T-Man doesn't make me special. Yes I'm aware that occasionally I capitalize random words for no reason. This blog may come off as rant sometimes. Sometimes my mind moves too fast for my fingers to keep up. Sometimes my fingers move too quickly for my keyboard. For all these things, I apologize. That's all I apologize for. Moving on to more important things than me. With the emergence of Laverne Cox there is a wave of concern about Trans-gender rights that has really brought to light the misconceptions that others have about us. Starting with our genitals and ending with our hearts. People generally get confused about how to address me. It's simple. My pronouns are: HE, His, And Himself. I am not afraid to correct people. I am not afraid to ignore those who use my birth name. I am not afraid to answer any questions they have about my gender status, because I consider myself to be an ambassador between our community and the Cisgender folks. I am an open book, mostly, but I still dread answering the first two/three questions when I come out to new people. You know the first round of questions that people usually tactlessly allow to careen out of their mouths. Coming out and staying out is a continual process for me, Like most people. I find the first question to pop into everyone's mind is usually one of two questions. 1. So you're going to get a Sex change? 2. Does that mean you want to date me? (Usually from females. OR so if you're guy does that mean your boyfriend is gay?) No matter how many times I'm asked the first question, I'm never quite prepared to respond. I'm not quite sure why it seems perfectly plausible to ask me about my genitals. It always leaves me explaining to people why it's rude. Which is a completely different bit of awkwardness entirely. I hope this isn't common ground for everyone who is transgendered, but I fear it is. After my lengthy explanation, or defense in some cases, of my gender status I am generally besieged by my other least favorite question/s. My gender status has nothing to do with whom I date. I'm not quite sure why it matters. I'm also not quite sure why younger females automatically assume I'm into them. I think that it has less to do with me and more to do with our society's stereo type of Butch lesbians/ Transmen. We are not the same. Not by long shot. I suppose that Trans-Ladies suffer the same deal with being lumped in with Drag Queens. Not that any of the aforementioned people are to be viewed in any sort of negative light. Just a comparison. I personally date a man. When I state this People generally ask, "Well then doesn't that make your boyfriend gay?" My partner as I call him, doesn't really care what's in my pants. We as a species are all too concerned with fornication. I've been told I'm just trying to be a gay guy. That I'm confused, and I've endured plenty of inappropriate jokes about who's doing whom in the butt. After all the unpleasantness I can safely say that I am confident in my Identity and He is still confident in his, and while we may not know how to define ourselves for other to understand, it doesn't really matter what other people think. Now does it? We're two boys who're in love. Comments?