I experienced the violence of male puberty on my psyche when living in Peru. I have written glimpses of this life and shared them here, as erotic (ish) stories, and laced into observations of a Latin American childhood.
It was in Peru that I had my first orgasm. I was wearing a diaper. Go figure. It just happened. What had been a pre-existing, and innocent desire to remain a baby forever, to experience the mother’s embrace which I somehow lacked as a baby, became symbolised with the trappings of my own infancy. Pacifier, diapers, the smell of baby powder. How I loved them.
But with that first orgasm, and the feeling of intensity that preceded it, I was in new territory. I understand the need for a clinical term like paraphilia to describe it, paraphilic infantilism. A fellow traveller of mine.
Already as a small child, filled with a desire to be a baby, to be treated like a baby, shame already existed, for I hid this desire when I found it met with disapproval from adults and peers alike. It went underground, and thus became a fetish. But a fetish only really steps out of innocence once it becomes sexualised. And with that first orgasm, it did.
In Peru, in those days, babies, especially boys, were kept as babies for a long time, much longer than we see in the Northern countries. I was jealous of the 5 year old with a pacifier in a stroller. I had been weaned of that at 2, so had to go underground. Part of me thinks that boys need this, and while the social structure of Latin American society is not one that we often think of as a benchmark, in this way, I think they are on to something important about respective developmental needs. And I wonder whether my experiences as a transgender adult in Latin America have anything to do with the superior self-confidence that comes from a boy being held in this dependent and much-loved space for as long as possible.
As an adult transgender person, trending female, my experiences with men in public in Latin America has been universally positive. Gallantry, politesse, no stares, no whistles, no inappropriate touch.
I believe my life would have been very different had I grown up this way, and not been on the outside looking in. That said, although this was not our culture, it was the culture of our maids, and that is how they treated me…and look what happened, I ended up sexualising it. Is that healthy? Probably not, only the sexualisation occurred because my own family model was different and told me that this desire was shameful. Sexualisation is the only safe place to manage shame.
And then there was my feelings about girls, about my own body, about wishing that sex wasn’t interfering with friendships. Suddenly, everything with my former friendship base became complicated. It was all about dating, and boyfriend-girlfriend. Every girl in the class, especially the pretty ones, were my gf’s for at least a day. But I didn’t know what it meant, other than for a brief moment, when she said ‘yes’, it felt like bliss. But what does a 4th grader do? Okay, there was a little innocent kissing. But suddenly my friends couldn’t be my friends anymore without the complications of sexuality.
And then here I was, just wanting to be with them, to be like them, and also thinking boys were gross. How they acted, the things they said and did, how they smelled, how perfidious they were in games with girls. And I couldn’t understand why girls liked this. In a way, I still don’t. Absurdly, it bothered me.
Ex-Mistress said that she loved men. That was healing when I heard it. Current Mistress said she loved men. The total lack of hesitation and total enthusiasm poring from each of them in such similar ways has settled into me. I take that as respect for them as individuals, but also respect for the profession—I don’t know if you could do the work they do without a deeply felt love of their client base—surely it is necessary for long-term survival in the industry.
My mother told me to not be afraid of the prettiest girls, as they are often the loneliest. She knew, she had been one. Boys are intimidated by beauty. The desire to possess that comes with male showmanship, is just that, a desire to contain and control that which they fear. In the modern world, I am surrounded by ever-increasing examples of female power. I exult in it, but I think many men are scared.
I joked with my endocrinologist the other day as she was doing a mental health check-up with me (yes, this is part of taking hormones—are you healthy of mind and body), “maybe this time around it will feel right.” What I am going through in my body (and mind) now is what is known as “second puberty”. One of my siblings remarked that oestrogen has taken a decade off of my skin, my face, my features, that I have lost weight (even though I have not—it just looks that way).
Well, my body feels better than I can ever remember it. For someone who struggled to touch “his” toes all my life, a “talent” that I cultivated with stretching and exercise, it is now easy. The Snow Queen has commented on my flexibility…and in truth, as I wriggle on the mat in front of her watchful gaze as she transmits divine feminine energy into me, I often find myself writhing like a snake. It is a trip, but she is activating me in ways that are as powerful as any drug-induced experience without any stimulants.
The meaning of all of this? Second puberty feels right. Yes, it feels right in my body. But more importantly, it feels right in my mind. It feels right in my spiritual and soul-self. Specifically, I feel the return of innocence.
I sat with Ayahuasca again recently. I will write at length on that topic in due time. The experience(s) have been life-changing in very positive ways. This (third) time, was no less potent. I was exploring the nature of desire, my sexual self, my body. One of the gifts of being a trans woman is that many women are allowing me into their lives with curiosity and intimacy. I am being buffeted by a whole new language and way of interacting that involves touch, lot’s of emoji’s, and an emotional intimacy that I would have previously associated with a partner.
My default male reaction to this would have been to respond with desire. Not least because most of the people I become friends with are friends not because of what they do in life, or what they look like, but because they are good people…in other words, all of my friendships have some degree of a crush in them. As a male, my way of processing or exploring was to never make a move on someone who was attractive to me, to always wait.
Sexually, I have discovered this suits the world of primal play. But socially, it was the only way I could be sexually an embodied male. My bestie is pushing me to have sex with people, since she knows that is my goal…and I have tried doing this, but I also realise that it just isn’t my way—to be sexually forward. And I realised that even as a trans-woman, this hasn’t changed. I am not the one to sexualise a friendship, though I am open to it, but only when she initiates.
I spoke with a woman I am sweet on about this, and she said, she wants a potential partner to “jump her bones”. She was sending out signals to me that this is what she wanted from me. With the words of my friend in my mind, I did draw my face close to hers, and what followed was a delicious hug, a friend hug, and in a way, I was relieved, because a hug can tell so much. Our friendship has developed greatly since, and I can be comfortably back where I started—the me that has learned to cope with the world as a sexual being.
Life is delicious for the innocent and curious.
I brought up Peru as the location of my second sexual awakening as the connection to Ayahuasca is real. This is an Amazonian jungle plant. It occurred to me that just as my first puberty was lived out in Peru, my second one has been sparked through a connection to Peru.
My decision, the moment of resolve, to come out as transgender occurred whilst working with a shaman working in the Peruvian Ayahuasca tradition. Ditto, several months later when I moved beyond coming out to fulfilling the destiny that process revealed: I decided to take hormones. And now, most recently, I began to explore my sexuality in a body that increasingly feels female, at least that is how my brain is processing it—again with a (different) Shaman connected to Peru.
The ”slave” collar I wear is a necklace I have worn nearly every day of my life since I was pre-pubescent. It is a heavy silver chain that I bought in Peru, and which was just like the one a boy I knew wore. He was gorgeous to my eyes, tanned, effortless, a bit of a rascal in a good way, and also innocent. I wanted to be just like him, so I bought the chain. Retail therapy is real.
It was ex-Mistress who turned it into a slave collar. I have stopped wearing it since beginning my transition, as I associate it with my male past. But when I sat with Ayahuasca for the third time, I put it back on again, along with my new slave collar, also silver, just different. More importantly, I wore a necklace that symbolizes transformation given to me by new Mistress. I was well accessorized.
I make these notes in part as I was struck by how many ties there were between me and Peru. My second sexual awakening. And strangely enough, it was in Peru that I said goodbye to ex-Mistress for the very last time, when she opened the doors to my virtual cage and set me free. The baby I gave birth to in my first Ayahuasca ceremony was a Peruvian blanket made of delicious soft alpaca wool that I bought when going back for the first time since my childhood. I told the story of sitting next to a Peruvian woman from the jungle on my trip home, the tatters of
The resonance that exists in our own lives is evident if only we open our hearts and all our senses. I carry Peru inside of me. It has been a battleground of bittersweet feelings of the loss of innocence, and now innocence regained. It was also the moment of being pushed out of the nest, and yes, I have unfurled my wings and am taking flight. I do not know where this will lead, but am flying again. I feel it by day, and at times dream of it by night…the return of my frequent dreams as a child…always in flight, always in flight.
Beyond Non-Binary 
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