The other day I was in a gay bookstore, stocking up on feminist theory, lesbian fiction, books about trans politics and the trans experience. You know, light-hearted stuff.
It felt really good to be in that space. Comfortable. As if I belonged. How odd. I noticed it. A part of it was the way that the mostly female clientele and staff looked at me.
Women are often guarded around men. As I look less and less like a man, and am obviously dressed as a woman, this has softened. Out in the real world, this means that sometimes a woman might smile at me, and at the very least, not be afraid to look or to make eye contact, which is something that women have learned is not ‘safe’ in public spaces. I love it. I may even need it. It fuels me, makes transition and its challenges, so much more worth it.
To no longer be perceived as a threat. Please read that again. To no longer be perceived as a threat. I never was one. But in a male shell, it was unavoidable.
Male-female friendships are often complicated by sexual tension. Many women avoid male friends for the potential and unwelcome intrusion of desire. I found this too, despite not being a regular guy. I generally believe that most women knew I was straight, at least I think so, or would like to think so, but sometimes I discovered they did not. A gay man is less of a threat and a good potential friend. And as some women say, they aren’t competitive—’they look for different things, and they don’t stab you in the back.’
And I don’t know whether the women that are in my life, either new or old, are so comfortable with me because they now all assume I am gay as in straight gay. Its so confusing. As in, as a female presenting individual, I am thought to like men. That’s what Star Child said to me.
[Personally I think she was lying, since the first time we met we talked about my kinky fun with women and her own parallel relationships. And while I am on her, it was the toxicity of her previous relationships that freaked me out. This is a woman who has ended up with restraining orders against several of her former partners. I know men are real creeps, at least many are, but several with her? That scared me. As if to say that there was a toxicity in her that brought out the worst in people…I didn’t even want to begin finding out if it were true, as once I suspected it, I could see it.]
But it is like every woman I speak to these days is operating under the assumption that I like men. I am glad that they are comfortable around me. I am glad that they touch me, and are open and friendly with me. But why would everyone assume that to become a woman is to be interested in men?
I hate men. Sorry fellas. This is an abstract sense, and not specific to the individual. But I am very sensitive to the toxic masculine. This feeling is so strong that I have utterly and completely rejected my own masculinity, my maleness, since I was born, perhaps before, when I was in the womb…and this is real and possible, and a legacy of abuse of male on female. In other words, it made me not wish to be a part of the tribe called ‘man’.
On the other hand, I found femininity so utterly enchanting, compelling, seductive. I find women in general to have an insane beauty. I find that the struggle that women have for equality and for a voice, that they have to work harder for everything, is awful and wrong but also tragically beautiful and something I wish to fight for too. I want it so much, I want the vulnerability and fragility so much, that I am prepared for any of the sacrifices. I love women so much I want to be one.
Neither my dislike of men or love of women in this context has anything to do with sex or sexuality. I could easily imagine myself wrapping my arms around someone who fxxks me, someone who takes me in my neo-vagina, and how I will love that muscular, thrusting feeling overcoming me. I know how badly I will want a fxxking. But you know what. I’d rather that it not be a man. I want it to be a woman. And I don’t care that it is a fake dick. What I care about is to hold her, and to be held by her, and for her to be a Her. And if she pulls my hair and scratches me before biting my ears, then all the better, I will meow and whimper. I may be a giraffe on the outside, but I’m a kitten when it gets right down to it. A bunny.
For the time being I feel that I need to explain that I like women sexually, that I am not “gay” in the sense of being a man who likes men, or that I am transitioning because I can’t cope with the idea of being a gay man, and this is my way of making it palatable. I can feel that this need is disappearing, however, as I feel more naturally female by the day.
And back at the bookstore. The women there looked at me differently. There was never hunger like I felt from some straight women towards me as a straight man. There was certainly not fear. No. What emerged on their faces was indulgence, humour, openness, but more than anything, a kind of curiosity, expectant, gently probing, coy, smiling, maybe even flirtatious. It was unambiguously delicious.
I think I have found my tribe.
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You have touched on a subject that completely confounds me. I am a woman who loves men and yet men do not approach me, at least not the single ones. This has puzzled me my whole life. The only time they take any action towards me is if I am abundantly clear in my attraction to them. You said “ Women are often guarded around men….. afraid to look or to make eye contact…. Many women avoid male friends for the potential and unwelcome intrusion of desire.” I am not one of these women. I make eye contact. I smile at them. I have always had more male friends than female friends. It is the females I guard myself against. You maybe helping me to understand something I have always considered a conundrum.
Thank you so much for sharing, and a rich one at that. Maybe a lot of it has to do with context and milieu. By context I am thinking total strangers, a party where everyone is at least connected (and therefore vetted somehow), etc. By milieu I am thinking places I frequent like NYC or Miami or London or Milan or Paris…where you are possibly interacting a lot with strangers as you go about your day, are at a restaurant, the theatre or even just having a coffee.
I love eye contact. And as a man, eye contact was more fraught for me. I knew that if a woman looked at me in a certain way, she would also talk to me. And this was true of even random places like the subway. But it was also rare because women do not usually speak to “strange” men on the subway. I presented as “normal” as in wearing a suit. But if you are not looking for a partner, does a woman look as much? I think men always look. That is still with me. The male gaze is a funny thing. And I mean that in a not nice way…because the male gaze is one-sided. It is not playful. When a woman looks, she is playful, open, curious. It is a very different feeling.
My version of the male gaze was to advertise my submission. Dewy eyed, coy, inviting a woman who felt a predator. Even as a “man” that was how I made eye contact. There are aren’t super many women who pick up on that and want to do something with it…emphasis on the doing something with it part. I am reminded, however, of a hilarious moment when I was courting the CEO of a company I wished to buy…I had invited him to dinner to talk about selling his company to me and he had suggested hosting me at his home for a drink, then going by boat in his motor boat with his wife out to dinner. Sounded great. At the restaurant, I made eye contact in my only way I know how to look at an attractive woman way, and it triggered an avalanche. She was a proper cougar even if she was my age or younger. She came right over, put an arm on me, and informed my dinner companions, complete strangers to each other, “after you are done eating, I will be eating him.” We all laughed at the line, but her strong hand on my arm put me in instant sub space. My dinner partners remarked on that encounter often–ribbing me, but she saw right through me.
What is the energy that you put into your stare, look. What does it feel like to you?
In my own transition, I have thankfully passed through the phase where gay men look at me as effeminate or gay–at least they pick up on the signals and my presentation. They are friendly now, but standoffish. Gay men don’t typically like trans women–at least not that way. I am picking up on protective vibes from straight men who are comfortable in their own sexuality, and who go out of their way to be solicitous–boys, I love you, you are the good ones–and many women are so warm to me as they know what I am “sacrificing” to join the tribe. Others, who might judge me, the famous TERFs or just women who are uncomfortable with a man becoming a woman and not feeling the experience or having the back story of womanhood, also come around as they come to know me.
But it is the select few of women who look at me and want me. I am reading about how lesbians date and attract. It is relevant for my straight female friends too, who are curious enough to want to play…my bestie says, “you have to kiss them when you first know them, otherwise you will forever slip into friend space.” This is something that I struggle with, as it is very forward feeling for me.
Thank you for thinking out loud with me. Have a lovely day!
What does it feel like to me? I do not have the skills that seem to come naturally to other women. When I look at men, I look them straight in the eyes and hold their gaze if they look at me. I don’t know how to be coy, or flirtatious in a look. My look is straight and for me to determine is he interested? Do I feel any sexual energy from him directed at me. In some cases nothing comes through and I know nothing will come of it. In other cases, I can feel his interest and nothing else happens. In other cases, we carry on a flirtatious conversation and still nothing happens. I am not a forward woman. I have always wanted the man to do the asking out. And yet, the only way a meeting happens is if I suggest it. This is very baffling to me. I sometimes believe it is my inability to seem coy or present as a woman who needs a man. I have learned I can live alone and be happy in doing so. I do not need a man. I do want a man, but I don’t need him and maybe this is what comes across and why they do no approach me. I am submissive but only those who want to use it to their advantage sees it and manipulates it. I suppose in some ways, I present a confused mix of submissive and dominance as I do not want to present vulnerable as too many try and take advantage if they see my vulnerability. I’m independent and have no desire to give up that independence. How does it feel? Is not an easy question to answer but if I look at it, feel it in its many parts, I would say the feel is a feeling of equality. I suspect this throws them off and they have no idea what to do with it.
Hi. I feel like I wrote a reply to this because I’ve been thinking about it, and couldn’t find one that had posted, so here goes. Your comment is super rich. The “female gaze” as you describe it is also very much how I perceive it and reminds me of my version of what was my own “male gaze” and what has become my female gaze. Curiosity, an invitation, but not a taking/having energy. When a woman looks at me this way I can feel my whole soul light up. And it’s a bit like a burst flavour that suffuses your whole body, this little rush of everything, thoughts, feelings, emotions, desire, possibility.
I also relate to the complexity of the interplay between feeling dominant and submissive. Submitting to someone is a form of giving for me. I know that this differs from how many people perceive it or play it out…the idea of submission as a gift, perhaps bizarrely, is almost always a burden, not a gift. But it can be. But only if the partner not only receives it but really wants to receive it. Because it feeds them.
And I agree with you about dominance. My general “way” is to dominate. My professional life and personal life is characterised by decision-making and leadership. But I am ready to submit to the right person, when it is of mutual benefit. I have always submitted to my secretary, for example. Her job is to dominate me. I choose her because she possesses what I lack, and she has the strength and resolve and certainty of her position with me to ensure that I am effective…and this gives her power and security.
Equality is a dangerous idea. We get caught up in this idea of 50:50…I think a better word is ‘equity’ and a closer measure of each bringing something to the table–we are fed equally by our relationship. That could be financial, it could be emotional, it could be domestic labour, it could be sex…so many variables. For me the measure of all relationships, including close family, is whether it is a healthy relationship. And by health, I mean is it growing in a positive direction.