Alright. Here I go.

I have pretty much always identified as female. Cis-gender. I have never thought about anything else, really. I have never been aware that there are other options out there, much less considered them. But I’ve also been on the tomboy side of female, right from the get-go. I hung out with boys, I beat up boys, I followed boys into the bathroom and watched them pee. I really really wanted a penis, and I tried as hard as I could to grow one. I remember when I was little I’d sit in the passenger seat of the car as I went with one of my parents on an errand-running mission, and I would feel a certain friction between my legs or against my groin from the way I was sitting on the seat, the way the seatbelt fit or my pants were tugging, and imagine a penis growing between my legs.

From the age of four I started making out with girls. I always got them in trouble. Their parents would always find out, punish them, blame me, and that was the end of our friendships. But I didn’t see anything wrong with it. Guys would express interest in me and I always felt awkward. I didn’t get the whole wooing thing. There were several guys that I felt attracted to, and I would go on to have long-term relationships with men, but it was girls that I began to explore my sexuality with.

As a teenager I really had no sexual identity. I would sneak my mom’s romance novels into my bedroom and masturbate to the sex scenes. The part that always got me the hottest was the part where the man gets aroused. The part where the virgin feels the pain of first entry. Not so much the description of the man, or the rest of it. It was the fucking that got to me. I had a very active sex life (with myself) but did not feel much attraction towards other guys. I think maybe three times I felt attracted to them, and I was always the aggressor. I always went for them. I played sports. I wore sweats, sweaters, jeans. I hated doing my hair. I hated the female beauty standard.

After I graduated I became something of a party girl. I was still a virgin, but I started getting more into flirting and being with guys. It was okay. There was one guy I liked and he was really hot. We used to dry-hump on his sofa. I would end up losing my virginity to him a couple of years later. But again, I never felt like one of the girls. I never really felt like anything, certainly nothing like what the atomic family mating ritual was supposed to look like. I liked to screw around, and the feeling of being desired.

As I hit my twenties I moved to the big city, started partying harder, and that’s when I actually started sleeping with women. I enjoyed it, but because it was usually in a threesome with another guy and usually for his gratification, I never really got the full benefit until I started having my first one-on-one female encounters. That’s when my sex life actually started getting interesting. Around that time I had a good friend who ended up coming out to me. We went to gay bars all the time. It was awesome. I’d never felt so welcomed and at home and comfortable in my entire life as I did there. I was also fucking anyone I could get my hands on (mostly straight men at this point). It was okay, but really for me the excitement came from being able to say I’d done it. I just enjoyed sex and being sexually active.

I ended up accidentally pregnant at 23 and gave the baby up for adoption at birth. That changed my sex life for good. I was still sleeping around but encounters were few and far between. I had an online relationship that lasted over six years and ended after we met for the first time; we realized, of course, that we had nothing in common. By that time I was sober and wanted different things. I ended up celibate after that, and single, for four years as I sorted myself out.

In that time I came out to everyone in my life as bisexual. It wasn’t a difficult thing for me to do; I have some pretty open-minded people in my life. It was most difficult for me to tell my family members, even though we’re not all that close. Everyone was okay with it. And then my life kind of spiralled. I started to lose sight of who I was. I know that I was queer, for sure. I just felt totally alone with it. I was 29, and by then my gay friends were all married with kids. I didn’t party so it wasn’t like I could be all promiscuous and experimental, as I’d been in my early twenties. Besides, I knew I wasn’t ready for any kind of contact: dating, sex, relationships, anything of the sort. I needed to be single for awhile. All of my relationships had been disasters. Plus I didn’t know what I wanted and my self-esteem was so low that I couldn’t imagine anyone even wanting to be with me. It was easier to just stay single.

Eventually I met my current partner. I had just begun to feel the stirrings of wanting to date, casually meet women and explore that side of me, since it’s something I had never really had the chance to do outside of a few sexual encounters and my childhood explorations. We met in a park and she came on to me. I thought it was wild. I was sober and here was someone saying things to me that I had only heard from drunk people in bars. It took me three weeks but I finally took her up on her offer. I was nervous because she’s a trans woman and I wasn’t sure what that meant. I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself. I remember heading to her place that first night feeling like it was the first time all over again. She ended up being really amazing about it and we had some of the hottest sex of my life. Initially we agreed that we were going to keep it casual and see other people as well but it became clear pretty quickly that we were falling for each other. We have now been together just about two years and are engaged.

I have realized in the last few years that ‘bisexual’ does not entirely explain my experience of my sexuality. I now more or less identify as pansexual although most of the time I just refer to myself as ‘queer’. In my time with my partner I have discovered so much about my sexuality that I didn’t know. I LOVE BDSM. Love it. Words cannot describe my unending love for it. It was just recently Pride weekend in my city, and a local BDSM organization (they host monthly parties and other special events) had a just-for-queers play party. It was my first public BDSM experience and it blew my mind. I’m pretty sure I’m a lifer. But something else happened over the weekend. Through reading gay male erotica, as I have discovered a penchant for, and watching some gay porn, I realized that I have some questions about my gender identity.

I have never considered the possibility before that I may actually identify as anything other than female. It’s not that I’m particularly attached to the label. I just have never considered it before. I’ve always just been me, and I’ve always known that I’ve been different from other people and that I don’t really fit any clear label. I continue to want a penis. I often feel much more sexy and confident when I dress in anything that even hints at masculinity. My partner and I have had many discussions about how badly I wish I had a penis and what I would do if I had one, which is pretty much my favorite version of ‘What if…’ ever. She has questioned in the past if I think I’m trans, and I have dismissed it because I didn’t think it applied. But then there I was, all of a sudden realizing that gay male stuff doesn’t just turn me on. There’s a deeper psychological element to it, and for some reason now I am able to tap into it and connect to it.

So now I’m a little confused. I am not really sure what’s going on. I went out packing yesterday for the first time and felt amazing. I felt confident, and free, and like myself, which I have never really felt unless I was dominating someone in bed or doing something creative like writing or making art. I felt like a part of myself was out for everyone to see, finally free, out of the cage. And at the same time I felt self-conscious because of my breasts, being as large as they are. I wondered if people would stare at me, cock and tits. Wonder if I was a freak. Wonder if they saw what they thought they saw.

I have been talking to people who identify as genderqueer. So far it seems to fit. I don’t really identify on either end of the spectrum anymore. I believe that right now I find myself just on the male side of things. I don’t really know what else to do right now except continue exploring. I want to get a real packer, and start getting men’s clothes. I want to cut my hair, when I get the money. I want to see what it feels like to step into the shoes. I want to be a genderfucker and see how it feels.

Even writing this is a bit strange for me. I feel like it should be more of an Earth-shattering experience, but it’s not, really. It kinda just feels natural. It feels like this was the next step. I am excited to see what comes next. I’m also a bit scared. I have only told one of my friends and she was really cool about it. But I really don’t know how other people in my life would take it. I know my partner has expressed some concern, wondering if I will turn out to actually be a gay man. I can’t answer those questions, though I don’t see it happening at this point. I just don’t really know anything right now. Not like I thought I did.

I am going to a genderqueer support group at the local queer community resource center. They’re open to folks who are questioning. I’m not really sure how else to support myself at this stage of my life. I just want to make sure I’m present for every second of this experience. I want to feel what it’s like every time I step out in public letting another piece of me shine through. I want to put myself on display. I’m tired of hiding.

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