Sex and sexuality: Part 1

There is so much to say it is hard to structure my entries to be meaningful to you as a reader. The reasons you have landed on my site are complex. You may be a ‘straight spouse’ who has recently discovered that your partner is a cross dresser, you may have been together a long time, or you may be a new couple. You may be a trans person looking for insight into how your partner is feeling. You may be a student in the Trans world, either from personal experience or for academic learning. I can’t hope to fulfill any or all of your needs. I am merely me, with my own story. If you can prevent yourself from judging me, that would be great, but probably not realistic.

My friend advised me ‘you’ll need to talk about sex soon enough to keep it interesting’. A funny insight into the world of blogging, sad maybe, but very realistic. Helen Boyd, in 'My Husband Betty', tells of numerous parties when mere acquaintances feel they have the right to ask her about their sex life. As with everything in life the communication of one speaks more of their need than yours. If you asked me in a party I would probably just tell you to fuck off. But here I commit to speaking my mind.

It’s complex and can’t be covered in just one entry. So here begins what I predict will be the first in a series of entries ‘on sex and sexuality’.

Before I lived this life I remember watching Eddie Izzard. He expressed his identity as ‘I’m a lesbian trapped in a man’s body’. At the time this felt like a fantastic explanation of the transvestite male and I applauded his simplicity. It’s a sentence that haunts me now. You see even if my husband is a lesbian trapped in a man’s body, I am not a lesbian trapped in a heterosexual body. I am heterosexual. And I don’t think anyone really knows this until they have been challenged to think of themselves in every different eventuality. I would have thought that maybe there was more kaleidoscope in me. I feel badly about myself for this. I battled with it for over 2 years and tried to compensate for all my perceived failings as a straight person. And it exhausted me. And so I had to be honest with myself. This is hard. My intellectual world doesn’t really respect homogeneity. It applauds the ability to be liberal and to stand up for difference and explore all options. My experience of reading the writings of people in a similar situation to me is that this is the killer. How can I be supportive to my partners’ identity and sexuality while remaining true to my own self. And our sexuality should be part of this. So blog posts tend to be related to ‘at first I found it exciting’, or themes related to enabling exploration, or themes expressing violation of a sexual self. Helen Boyd, of all people, is the absolute emodiment of exploration of all definitions of sex and sexuality, and emerges as a winner in kaleidoscope thought. I envy her but I cannot identify with her. Ultimately, unless a person is truly bi-sexual or Gender variant as Helen would say, I think it’s the hardest thing to do. When your partner comes out to you and wants to continue your physical relationship he is asking you to submit your sexuality to his/her new identity. One friend of mine, when I urged the need for secrecy said to me’ of course I won’t tell anyone but you know I don’t see anything wrong with it. I mean I think role play is really healthy’. My heart sank. This is not role play. This is identity. This is not dress in heels for kicks and giggles. This is dressing in bra and heels because they feel so much more comfortable than rugby boots.

However, I am not a lesbian trapped in a heterosexuals body. I am a heterosexual. The certainty of it and the need to identify with this surprised me. And I need to know that this is ok for me and integral to my survival. This is about me.