Last Updated on March 28, 2024 by sensation-experience
Hello, readers. To-day I will briefly jot down some of the interesting things I discovered when I got to do something that practically everyone has on their bucket list at one point or another. If you are squeamish, it is best that you stop reading at this point, because I am going to be talking about things that might be pretty repulsive. If you’ve got nerves of steel, continue reading at your own risk!
Potty Training 101
One day when I was too little to know how old I was, I was made aware that I was no longer wearing diapers, and that I sometimes wet my clothes. I vaguely remember my mother picking me up and propping me on top of the toilet seat and stimulating my genitals to get a few more dribbles before gently wiping my groin with a warm washcloth. That was my earliest recollection of being potty-trained. I don’t remember how I learnt to poop in the toilet, though. My favourite memory was when she handed me a plastic cube, and water was dribbling out of a hole, and my mum sang to me, ‘Here comes the peepee!’ I literally thought that’s where it came from!
Then, sometime had passed when I had somehow found a bag with some leftover diapers, and I tried putting them on myself, wondering why I sometimes had them and sometimes didn’t. However, I noticed that they rubbed up against my scrotal sac in a peculiar way, and I was acutely made aware that the ambient breeze inside the lavatory was causing me to feel aroused in a peculiar way, but I didn’t know what it meant. But from that point on, I always had to wear underwear that clung to that area tightly. Whenever people handed me boxers or briefs, I kindly told them, ‘No, thanks,’ after trying on a pair and noticing that it had that same feeling of being exposed.
My mum never quite knew how to refer to my genitalia other than the little birdie for the penis, and the testes as huevos, or eggs in Spanish. One of my nursery school aides, who sometimes reinforced some of the potty training my mum did with me at home, even laughed hysterically when I kept calling it the birdie, every time she pointed it out to me. I could sort of see how it might look… a bird’s bill, with the scrotal sack being the gizzard. As I attended more and more nursery school events, I also noticed some of the smells associated with baby wipes, powders, and urine, which smelt more sweet and not as pungent, although it reminded me of the inside of some rubbish bins.
When my mum took me to the barber for the first time, she told me that my hair was getting too long, and that she didn’t have time to cut it herself in the lavatory. She instructed them to make my hair as short as possible on the back, but leave only about quarter to half an inch long on the top and sides. When I felt my dad’s head and it was practically bald, I wanted one just like it, and people often gave me lots of compliments in school!
The Question Every Kid Asks
One Saturday evening in 2000, when I was at a church retreat, and people were dancing in the Sunday school’s gymnasium, a guy picked me up and started strutting around with me. I felt his face, which was probably typical of someone who couldn’t see and they had no filter. I suddenly went down below his chin and found that he had a huge bump. ‘What’s that on your neck?’ I had asked.
“I’ve got an apple stuck in my throat,’ was his reply. I never gave much thought to it until I read about it many years later.
After a couple of years had passed, I asked my mum, ‘Why do you always have to sit when you pee?’ She had previously taught me to stand up when I needed to go.
‘Because we don’t have birdies like you boys do.’
“Oh, what do you have?’ I kind of had an idea that my mother was in the same category of humans called female, but I wasn’t entirely sure. She usually called them girls, but I always associated that word with kids my own age.
‘We have a little slit,’ was all she said before changing the subject. I also forgot about it, and quite interestingly, I inadvertently found a box of tampons which I thought were fireworks, because one of my mum’s friends gave us some fireworks that had lots of string, and the box I felt also had lots of string. But my mum corrected me and left it at that. She and I sometimes took showers together, and I noticed that she often left her underwear on. I forgot what she told me as to why she didn’t remove it like I did, but she was often very open and upfront about all the different things I had questions about, like finding her brassiere on the vanity station, or even about where babies came from, for that was eventually what every parent would expect to answer at some point. I often asked her why we never had any babies of our own, after I grew bored of just having an older brother. For those of you who read my coming out journey, which is password protected, then you might remember how briefly obsessed I was with wanting to have a baby, and how, when visiting her friends, my mum frequently asked me, ‘Wanna take this baby home with us?’ But as I grew older, I gradually knew better that babies belonged with their parents.
Anyhow, what she told me was pretty interesting. ‘Your papa puts sperm in my tummy, and the sperm also comes out of the little birdie.’
‘But how does he know to put sperm instead of pee?’ I wanted to know. I had this image that my dad put it in a cup for my mum to drink, and that’s how it got there.
‘Well, God gives him a lot of energy to be able to separate it, so that he only gives me sperm, ‘my mum explained patiently. We were both sitting on the couch, with the TV set on a soap opera that she often liked to watch.
Then, speaking of God, I often wondered, since my mum portrayed him as male, if he also had a little birdie, as well. She sometimes pointed it out to me that it was usually located below the belly button on some crosses that we had. I sometimes kept asking how people knew the difference between a boy dog or a girl dog, or whatever pet I kept seeing at the time. Instead of people answering me in a roundabout manner, they usually pointed out other traits that had nothing to do with their genitals, like how a female cat was a calico, or things like that. My mum told me that roosters step onto the hen to mate.
Sometimes, when I was bored, I dialed random 800-numbers just to see what I could find. One of my other blind friends did this too. We eventually came across hot boxes and bulletin boards. But sometimes I heard a very soft feminine voice say things like, ‘Mmm, get to meet your sexiest hot ladies by putting in your credit card number.’ Why did people talk like that? I thought. I also heard guys talk very similar, but it was more like they were making an animated speech that went like, ‘You’ve reached the right place to meet hot dudes’ or something like that. Of course, we never knew how to access credit cards, so we never got past that point. Eventually, we learnt that you had to be at least eighteen or older to use those services.
But as we kids grew older, we sometimes got visited by a stranger danger campaigner who spoke with a stern voice and who also sounded pretty androgynous. They reminded us about how not to talk to strangers, no matter how much they coaxed us. But more importantly, they said, ‘If somebody grabbed my private area, then I have to tell the police.’ So, I generally associated that with not allowing people to see what I had down there. Kids usually start developing modesty about undressing in front of one another, regardless of sex and gender.
Then of course, my dad asked me that one time if I was feminine or masculine, and since I didn’t know what those words meant, I took a random guess and said I was feminine. He immediately corrected me and told me I was masculine. If that were true, why did he sometimes get a stud pierced in his ears?
But while I always hung out with a mix of kids and didn’t mind what we played with, some people did point out things like, ‘No, that’s for girls,’ or ‘I don’t think you’d wanna play with that.’ Still, that didn’t stop me from being curious, so I discretely played with some dolls and rode girls’ bikes without anyone knowing. What they don’t know won’t hurt them, right? But how did people know what things were for boys and what things were for girls? Bikes obviously felt the same. ‘It’s because girls’ bikes are pink,’ my mum said when I had asked her about it. Some of them didn’t have cross bars, which I later learnt was so that the skirt wouldn’t get tangled. And that also brought up some questions I later had about tights, leggings, or slips, also called pantihose. For some reason, I didn’t like the harsh materials jeans were made of, so I constantly wore pull-up sweatpants until one of my aides told me and my mum that it was important for kids to develop fine motor skills by learning how to latch and unlatch a pair of jeans. So, to get around this uncomfortable sensory experience, I put on sweats underneath the jeans for about six months until I had gotten used to it.
I still didn’t know how colours worked, but then I learnt something else. Sometimes there’d be frilly materials that flared or tapered off, and I gradually learnt that those were more associated with feminine things. I even remembered trying on some girls’ clothes and wondered why they clung to my body a little bit more. Was it because I was too big for them, or was it just that boys generally wore baggier and loose-fitting clothes? I even got to wear high heels once, and I totally felt comfortable walking around in them! People had always complimented me for having great balance. I think I also learnt about makeup and jewellry a few years later, though, but I know my mum was big into that stuff.
Quite surprisingly, when my underwear had gotten soaked when I was playing in a kiddy wading pool, my dad, or probably his girlfriend, handed me some weird underwear, which I figured out how to put on, but it was most likely a pair of knickers. All I remembered was that the texture felt completely different, for it was not made in the usual custom, such as my Batman underwears that my mother had sometimes gotten for me. I had forgotten all about it until my mother helped me undress for the night. ‘Ooh,’ she said. ‘That’s really sexy!’
‘What’s sexy?’ I naturally wanted to know.
‘It just means you look super,’ my mother replied.
Fantasies Galore!
When I was around nine or ten, I was outside, playing out on one of those play structures, when I decided to try something I’ve always wanted to do. I tried climbing up that firefighters’ tube that you usually slide yourself down on. But in order for me to be able to climb it successfully, I had to straddle it very close to my body. And when that happened, I accidentally rubbed my genitalia up against it in such a way that sent waves of pleasure throughout my entire body. I was caught up in that wonderful moment of bliss, and I did not want it to end! But I also knew that whatever I was doing was probably not meant for public viewing, so I reluctantly got back down. I later learnt that pre-teens often experimented with similar things by humping on pillows and other hard objects. Bit by bit, I was getting nearer and nearer the truth of my mother’s statement about how babies were made! But if that weren’t all, I also learnt that at that point in time, I had no refractory period, meaning that if I had continued doing it, perhaps I would’ve continued to have multiple orgasms forever!
At around ten, I was in a van with a few other kids, some of whom were way older, like seventeen or eighteen. One of them, a guy, took my right hand and told me to ‘push on it.’ I felt something bulging underneath his jeans, and although I probably should’ve let someone know that he had done it, I didn’t really know how to go about it, because I was kind of caught off guard. But one thing was pretty clear. He was definitely older, and he had a deeper-sounding voice. I also met another guy whose voice went down to around B1 on the piano, and it also sounded very deep and resonant, as well! That was the kind of guy I wanted to be with. I should’ve probably took my mum’s warnings about my own voice getting deeper more seriously, or else I wouldn’t have had so many issues understanding this as I grew older. But I had always dismissed it with a wave of my hand. I never thought this would happen to me. I just figured that it would happen to other boys, but not me. So, whenever I got bored in school, I frequently daydreamed about meeting older guys. Hmmm, let’s see. If he had a bigger body, bigger hands and feet, had lots more hair (my mum told me I’d get pubic hair), and had an even deeper voice, then he’d naturally have a much bigger and longer penis. I’ve fantasised about being in a large room with a few of those guys, watching as they walked around with their penises slowly swinging to and fro, like how a dog slowly wags its tail, sometimes dragging it along the floor and pounding it like a drumstick. It’s what I later learnt is considered to be a third leg.
So, when I entered sixth grade, I noticed that some of the boys whom I’d previously known had deeper-sounding voices, which made me feel extreme cognitive dissonance. I didn’t know if it was because I wanted my voice to be deep like theirs, or if it was because I felt like they had become complete strangers (maybe they had suddenly become grown-up!). But one thing I also learnt was that it was very common for kids to have same-sex crushes on their older role models, often called hero worship. Even my dad acted as if I were clewless, for whenever he asked me if I had a girlfriend, and I sometimes said yes, he’d often ask me, ‘Have you planted the seed yet?’ And I’d sometimes say yes or no. Obviously, my mum probably told him, for they sometimes still talked to each other even though they were getting a divorce, about how she had explained sex to me.
Late one December morning, during a heavy snowstorm that blanketed our neighbourhood in a white winter wonderland, I was warmly curled up in my twin-sized bed, reading the second book in the Oz series… The Marvellous Land of Oz. In it, the author described a character who initially appeared to us as male, but by the end, it was revealed that the true ruler of Oz lay somewhere in a wicked transformation that a witch had practised upon him. I later found this in a book written by Rachel Gold, Being Emily. I was totally taken aback when I could relate to this scene really well!
By the time I got to junior high school, I got my first real taste of what some of the older boys were like, for I had met an eighth grader, whose physique felt like that of a teacher! He was already broad-shouldered, muscular, had coarse skin, and was much taller than I was. He’d be equivalent to a guy with a crew cut and who’d carry a jangling set of keys to his car. I imagined feeling his thick biceps and just having him be there, but at that point in time I didn’t experience any sexual stirrings yet. I also met some eighth-grade girls who were as tall, and whose voices sounded a little deeper, and the way in which they talked sounded as if they could be the teacher. In fact, when I attended orientation, somebody read me a sentence by accident about how girls should ensure that they have their undergarments secured at all times. I must’ve looked confused, for they said, ‘It’s so that these (lightly tapping on my chest with a pencil) don’t show.’
Influence of Puberty
Growing up, I was a very picky eater, not liking a lot of vegetables and fruits, most likely because I was a super taster, and a lot of them tasted bitter! Our ancestrons actually used this for survival, because they didn’t want to eat something that still wasn’t ripe enough. Also too, plants often develop chemical defence mechanisms to ward off predators. Licking a banana slug actually makes your tongue feel numb. Drugs were also manufactured based on these principles. So, the next time you’re mowing your lawn or inhaling that pleasant aroma of freshly cut grass, perhaps you won’t think it’s so pleasant if you learn that it’s actually a sign of distress that alerts other animals that there is danger to the lawn. Anyhow, I hated eating spicy foods, carbonated drinks, coffee, tea, candy, gum, and things like that. That might have been a blessing in disguise, for I never once got a cavity! I did eventually discover how to mask the flavour of vegetables by using various salad dressings, so that definitely helped! When I later tried drinking the communion wine in church, I was afraid it’d taste like poison. This was great, since I never engaged in any well-known vices, such as drinking or smoking, at the risk of being called a milksop, I never had to worry much about peer pressure and stuff like that. Still, my health literacy teacher actually told us that those who engaged in such behaviours often remained stunted for life, though they also admitted that people born prematurely were more likely to have stunted growth if no action was taken past their second birthday.
I became accustomed to drinking soy milk because someone told my mum that drinking dairy milk or mixing it in with my cereal was what had caused my frequent ear infections and excess phlegm. But it was actually due to the low level in which our eustachian tubes were oriented. In infants and children, it is almost completely horizontal, but it becomes vertical in adults. If you give milk and then lean them back, some of that bacteria can enter the middle ear and cause an infection. So, it was quite surprising to learn that I’d been consuming phytoestrogens for a very long time! I did have a brief period of having gynaecomastia, and touching my nipples sent waves of unpleasant sensations, but it went away in a couple of days. On the last day of school in fifth grade, the teacher handed me a bar of soap, but I never learnt why. I also never knew if other kids were also getting bars of soap, as well. But I did wonder why certain people had body odour, and others didn’t.
Just before Christmas vacation in sixth grade, all the boys, including me, stayed in the classroom to watch a film on child development. I didn’t know why the girls went somewhere else. I vaguely remembered paying attention to any of it. I just remember hearing an older boy talking and his mother saying, ‘I can’t wait to see the new you!’ I continued being the only way I knew how to be. Being interested in technology, helping to take care of my severely developmentally-challenged older brother, finding a group of blind kids who just wanted to have fun and cause a little trouble, and wondering why I didn’t see myself like the other boys did. Like for instance, I sometimes heard them crack dirty jokes, but when I tried to do it, they always sounded insincere. Likewise, some of my guy friends loved revving the car, but to me, it sounded as if something would blow up! And it was my mum who taught me to start up a lawn mower by yanking on the starter cord.
One evening, I was bragging to one of my brother’s caregivers about one of my fantasies, and he said, ‘Well, when you’re older, it’ll feel like this!’ He placed a ripe banana into my hands. Then, a few days later I was rudely awakened when my brother came into my room and used my head as a humping pillow, for he violently slammed himself on it, nearly causing me to see pinpricks of lights (which I later learnt were stars). That is around the time he was displaying aggressive behaviour to both himself and others, including me.
Then one Monday evening in March, I, out of all the boys in the class, got to spend a night with the other blind girls in going to a costplay event! I thought nothing of it at the time, but I wonder now if that meant something! Still, I didn’t understand why some of the teachers wanted me to join some visually-impaired boys in playing with a water column, which allowed you to change the colour or stop and start the flow by the press of a few buttons. It was so boring. I couldn’t understand how a blind school could expect someone with no sight to think of it as fun, the way my brother was being forced to bowl when he couldn’t see or hear the pins being knocked over. I wanted to do something that was either physically or mentally stimulating, like playing the piano or learning something new. Maybe it was because those things were too loud and noisy, but who knows.
It wasn’t until I read my first book by Judy Blume about Margaret, who talked about what girls went through! In fact, another reason I started this blog was because of the Pre-Teen Sensation, which primarily talked about sexual sensations, but I also wanted to cover general overall bodily sensations, as well! Anyhow, they described menstruation as feeling as a barely-noticeable dripping sensation that came from underneath them while sitting down. Others never even noticed a thing until they had removed their undergarments! They also described some cramps, and I remembered how my belly button would also cramp up if I sat up suddenly, and I’d feel a tugging sensation deep within! And now, for the first time ever, you can See this for yourself in realtime! I told my mother that I was just on the brink of making a huge discovery! Still, I noticed that my voice had gotten a little deeper, but not by much. I never had too many issues with it cracking, like most cis-guys did. I was still pretty skinny and underweight, but at least I was eating a little more and more each day. When I later watched a video about Elliot Rodger being rejected by the girls he wanted to date because he was seen as short, I knew I wasn’t at all like him, because I’d be more likely to feel sorry for myself and hurt myself than anyone else. He even wrote a very long manifesto about his experiences.
When I took part in sports events, I never really gave thought to whether I’d have an advantage over females. Usually people had me jump from the very end of the track leading up to the long jump, whereas sighted people would either jump eighteen to twenty-four inches from the pit. I also felt like I was pretty well-coordinated in gymnastics, which I later learnt favoured more femme individuals! In fact, when I read Louis Sachar’s books about Marvin Redpost, Is He a Girl? I could totally relate to things like swinging off the monkey bars upside down or things like that.
People often teased me about my muscles, and one guy even showed me how he could make bulging biceps with very little effort. He also noticed that one of my pectoral muscles on my chest was only pronounced on one side, but it was flat on the other. I worried that something was really wrong with me. Luckily, my general practitioner at my annual physical told me that if you moved your arm too much on one side of your body, chances are that more muscle would develop on that side. Still, I did enjoy swinging myself off the monkey bars and track with rails that I often found on play structures. Hint: if you’ve ever smelt your hands after grabbing onto that piece of metal, you might have noticed a peculiar scent emanating from them. I’ll explain why in a moment.
Another time,when we were doing a tasting experiment, my aide, male, commented in a disappointed tone, ‘You’ve got a small tongue!’ I didn’t know how to feel, but it did seem as if I were being blamed for that. I’ve always had a ton of orthodontic treatments growing up, though, so I don’t know if that could’ve had any influence. I was written about in some sports columns as not being physically imposing, which came off as a form of passive-aggressive body shaming. Whenever girls complimented me, like how I had very long eyelashes, I didn’t feel as if I were being blamed… in fact, I felt quite flattered!
But one thing wasn’t clear to me. What did it mean when people said things like, ‘You throw or hit like a girl’? Did that mean that they didn’t put much effort into their throw? This article seems to explain the phenomenon in more detail. Also, if a ball suddenly came flying at you, what would be your first response? I know that I’d probably duck and cover myself, which I later learnt was associated with feminine behaviour. Of course, since I wouldn’t even see the ball coming, I probably wouldn’t have reacted in time. But whenever we played Goal Ball, my throws may have been seen as graceful or not as strong. But on the flip side, it gave me a competitive edge because in order for you to block a ball, you have to be able to hear the bells inside. And when people throw the ball, the bells naturally bounce around inside. But I, not aware of this, naturally threw it in the best way I knew how. The result was that the ball glided silently across the court clear to the other team’s goal! That later became known as silent but deadly. I had also been observed to walk with outward-facing feet, like a V-shape or a duck, though I had always thought they were straight! Not surprisingly, in an inflatable wrecking ball game, the guy players were much stronger and easily threw me off, despite my vain attempt to throw them first.
I also remember reading a book by Dan Gutman, Mickey and Me, which briefly talked about hormones and what they did. It was to later set the plot for some biases the character initially had. I didn’t really pay too much attention to it. Hearing about naked women in the locker room held no significance for me. But I guess I should’ve paid closer attention when the main character was explaining that girls typically didn’t like physical confrontations. That description fit me exactly when I was in a self-defence class, and I was partnered up with somebody to practise some grappling and striking moves with. the mere thought of doing that was so revolting that I just couldn’t do it! I mustered enough courage to at least do it gently, hoping they’d forgive me if I accidentally hurt them because they knew it was just for practice. Obviously, if it were a life-and-death situation, I wouldn’t hesitate. Still, they noticed my hesitation, for they said, ‘Come on, don’t be afraid to be aggressive.’ Fortunately, I found this trans-affirming self-defence organisation where I finally got to be myself!
Then one spring during my high school year, one of my relatives passed on a phone number for a resource in Florida called Teen Link, which was a subsidiary of Hillsborough County WGBH News Channel Eight. It covered very comprehensive topics about sex, sexuality, gender, and relationships. It briefly talked about gang involvement, and I was reminded of the time I took part in a DARE and GREAT programme. I also read The Outsiders, which was also about a gang. I had then discovered the real truth about how babies were made! My mum said, ‘You can always come to me if you have any questions.’ I was excited to finally be able to leverage this new knowledge in some way, but I didn’t quite know how. I also had my first wet dream when I had a sex dream involving a girl. I never questioned what I was attracted to, because I didn’t know anything about what being gay or straight was. I found both penises and breasts attractive, but because people implied that I should only date girls, that’s what I mostly focused on. Still, I once heard some guys whispering in hushed voices, and I thought I heard one of them say, ‘Maybe he’s a… homo.’ What did that mean?
One evening, I met the daughter of one of my mum’s friends, and she told me how she was taking a parenting class in high school where they actually used a Reality Works baby simulator. It came with sensors on its diapers, bottle, and internal sensors for it to detect rocking, swaying, cuddling, or even if you dropped it or shook it. There were also bracelets with sensors to know who was taking care of the doll, such as a nanny, babysitter, or parent. I also met another blind person who was using one of those, and I resolved to look them up at my earliest opportunity. So, now I really want to try getting a Baby Think it Over, or maybe gain some real babysitting experience!
One day in my sophomore year, one of my new male assistants was helping me unload some books in a classroom, and since it was a Friday and nearing the start of an American football game, there were also some cheerleaders as well. I, of course, was completely unaware of this. Somebody came up to me and offered to help. ‘Wow,’ my aide said. ‘Your friend’s a cheerleader!’
‘How do you know she’s a cheerleader?’ I asked.
‘Well, she’s in uniform! Wanna ask her if you can feel it?’
‘Uh, sure?’ I replied uncertainly. Once she gave us permission, she showed me the elastic material that it was made of as he explained what it was. Unfortunately, the next day, he was reported by the teacher for having encouraged sexual harassment. ‘Well, if every boy in that room knew that there was a pretty cheerleader, wouldn’t it have been fair for him to not know of that fact?’
“Uh,’ the principal hesitated, unsure as how to answer that question. Whatever it was, they got it sorted out. I learnt a whole lot more about dating guidelines, like how to wait at least until you were sixteen, etc. At the same time, I had begun reading novels (mostly about teenage) girls facing life-altering decisions by Lurlene McDaniel, and I was caught up in the events those characters often partook of, like prom. I also read about transplants, and how the biggest caveat was rejection and having to take anti-rejection drugs for the rest of your life. I completely hated that! But you know what? Maybe it’s best to fight one enemy with another enemy… the enemy of my enemy is my friend. So, to completely trick the immune system into accepting the new organ, we are using humanity’s biggest nemesis, cancer!
But if there was one thing I was completely oblivious to, it was fashion and trends. While most of these things applied to femme individuals, there were also masc or butch trends as well. For example, I learnt that having jeans with ripped knees was a popular fad. If people went to a social event that had a specific theme, how did people dress to conform to that theme? I briefly got to do that for homecoming, but I didn’t have a lot of experience with that. Sure, my mother got me slacks, a dress shirt, a sports jacket, and tie, along with some dress shoes, but I never knew that there was more. Dressing up is just one of those things that is still very gendered, although I feel like we’ve come a long way in providing folx with more gender-neutral options.
One Sunday afternoon while I was in the shower, I was briefly playing with my penis and watching it grow. I didn’t know how to stimulate it enough to achieve full climax yet, so I never got to experience that until much, much later. But anyhow, I was washing it when I suddenly felt something open up from deep within, and I immediately felt the area become much more sensitive! I had no idea that the foreskin had just been retracted, but my mother warned me many times when I was little to frequently pull it back when I was in the shower, so that I wouldn’t have issues when I was older. I didn’t know that it was what she had meant until I was at least twenty-one! I did worry all that week, though, thinking that perhaps something was wrong, and I eventually put toilet paper around it to protect it. After a few months, though, I gradually became used to it.
The next few years passed uneventfully. I finally decided to branch out even further and eat a wider variety of foods. I was able to tolerate tastes that were a little stronger. I was gradually putting on weight, but I always had a short stature of around five feet and four inches. I learnt to anticipate what the cooks would be making on their menu just by prediction. Sometimes they’d have a cooks’ choice, though.
Sometimes our PE teacher reminded us with things like, ‘Boys, be careful where you touch the girls, and girls, be careful where you touch the boys.’ I liked that he had included everybody, though I wish there had been more sense of gender neutrality, for we were apparently playing fleet ball. My mum had also got me a copy of What We Have Told Our Kids About Sex by having my brother’s case manager contact the talking book library on my behalf. This is where I first heard the words gay, lesbian, transgender, and transsexual. I didn’t really attach too much meaning to them, though. Quite interestingly enough, when our group of blind kids were singing a song we have just heard… I’ve had a sex change, I’ve had a sex change! Everybody in the world needs to have a sex change. and how he changed his name from Wendy to William, the chaperone we were with said at the time that there were actually people out there who had those kinds of surgeries!
We had a sex education unit in a health literacy class, though, and that was pretty fun and exciting. We also met somebody who used an electrolarynx for our drugs and alcohol unit, and we also learnt about dopamine and the pleasure and rewards system.
The next time I saw my dad, and when he asked me that familiar question about planting the seed, I gave a look of scorn and said, ‘Don’t you have any condoms? I know the truth now.’
‘You’ve better ask your mum about that,’ he said. Still, I persisted, and he finally handed me a few.
Just before leaving, he pritz my pulse points and clothes with some masculine-smelling cologne that I often associated with Mexican cultures. So, when I rode the bus home, a lady sitting across from me asked me, ‘Do you speak English?’ I answered her in the affirmative. Still, it was hard to say whether she thought I only spoke Spanish because of that, or because she heard me talking to my dad in that tongue. So, even certain scents and fragrances can be culturally defining, as I had previously learnt when doing laundry. Some people also eat fermented foods, so that might also be a hint. Still, I was clewless about B/black people, since that was more of a visual thing, and none of the people I met had spoken using the African American vernacular or used ghetto.
But one summer day, when I was hanging out with a group of friends and doing laundry, a guy with a developmental disability and a mild speech impediment took out some of his laundry, and one of the other guys happened to smell it. ‘Eww, that’s nasty!’ he said. I rushed over to see what he was smelling. I sniffed it and thought it was very sweet.
‘But I really like it!’ he replied. Saying nothing, I put it down. I didn’t think too much about it until many years later, but I wondered if those guys were teasing him for having feminine-smelling clothes. Given that I had also been raised by a single mother, I picked up quite a lot of her mannerisms and habits, like wrapping two towels around both my upper and lower body and things like that. I got to wear a bathrobe, but I haven’t worn a night gown or a night shirt yet.
But if I wasn’t sure about my own gender identity or sexual orientation, why did I never say things like sir, madame, man, bro, dude, etc.? Why did I feel so uncomfortable making such outbursts like that? When I was little, I could easily yell and squeal with nobody commenting or judging me, but since then I’ve gotten more reserved. It was as if I were afraid that people would tease me for sounding like a girl, even though nobody had, or at least not explicitly. Still, if I sounded too masculine, that, too, made me feel very uncomfortable. Why was it so hard for me to say my own name when people asked me what it was? I never knew the answer to those questions. Could this have been a form of hypervigilance? Sure, blind people rely on voice to know the gender of said person, but if you don’t know who’s there, then what would you say? ‘Excuse me? Hello?’ I also became used to never cursing or swearing, just because I grew up that saying those words were considered bad words. Maybe not being used to saying those things was a blessing in disguise for what would come later on! I know at least one trans-person was offended because a blind person had addressed them as sir based on how their voice sounded, not on how they actually looked!
Like any teenager, I was attracted to the catchy and popular tunes from our time and didn’t really know much about some of the bands and musicians that people once listened to in the past. I also didn’t know about things like emo, punk, Goth, or any of that other stuff. Again, a lot of that was visual. I also had trouble understanding the meaning of the lyrics, as well, so I didn’t know that most of them were anti-government and things. It didn’t help that our impoverished family could not afford internet, so the only way I could look up llyrics was at school, often with sites blocked by Websense. But then, when a choir teacher commented that I had such perfect pitch, despite my hearing loss, I picked up the piano once again, and I began a phase of rebelling against modern music and making fun of those who listened to it. Interestingly enough, though, nobody seemed to make fun of me for only liking classical, Jazz, and third-stream music, because I later learnt that it was mostly associated with effeminacy. The only thing I was teased about was of being old-fashioned and not keeping up with the trends.
But on that same note, when I read how authors sometimes portrayed old-fashioned speakers like the Amish, or those who spoke a foreign language as having precise English vocabulary and speech patterns, I subsequently began adopting their mannerisms. It was how I ended up using for as a conjunction, and why I started making fun of people who only wrote laconic responses and texting lingo. I later found out that I may have been an old soul without realising it! I just couldn’t see myself mingling with such teeny boppers after that. I preferred hanging out with people with whom I could really have an intellectually-stimulating conversation. I have also been known for being very observant and noticing the slightest details, which I later learnt wasn’t necessarily a feminine trait, given that Sherlock Holmes was also a great detective, a lot of whom were cis-male!
One of my female aides let me into a little secret when she told me that she was feeling dizzy, and that she needed to rest. She attributed this to having hot flashes, basically teling me that older women got them. I didn’t realise that I’d soon experience something similar, and at a much younger age!
Just before graduating high school, I learnt that Obama would be supporting same-sex marriage. Since I was still pretty impressionable, I often went back and forth on what I believed about gay marriage. But I also knew one thing. I subconsciously knew that many girls wanted guys to present their feminine side when in a romantic relationship, as I had previously been asked for dating advice by a girl, and I told her what I knew. But generally, guys aren’t supposed to give that kind of advice, but of course I didn’t know that! Anyhow, it later prompted me to ask the question in my diary, What is the difference between being transgender and being transsexual? I was in self-denial, afraid that if I heard or dwelled upon those words for too long, it would immediately become a reality!
First Relationship
At long last, right after I had graduated high school, I landed my first relationship with a visually-impaired girl with cerebral palsy on-line! She and I both had nerdy interests, and we both liked music. I was just discovering my synaesthesia, and I was off to a new start to celebrate the new year! I had also met a great gentleman who sounded very young, but who was nearly twice my age! Some of the blind new adults I was hanging out with at the time teased me behind my back by saying that I was now with a blissful man. I, of course, didn’t hear it until he pointed it out to me. But then things started happening rapidly. When my then girlfriende offered to give me men’s things, I was so mortified that I was at a loss for words. How could I still be polite to her but still say ‘no’? More importantly, why did I not want those things? She ended up not getting anything for me, and we eventually ended our relationship because she started having feelings for someone else. She had expected me to be jealous and angry, but instead I felt more sad and upset, like a submissive guy I had read about in One Flight Up. Also, when she heard my voice, she was completely taken aback! Now, I don’t know how common this is, but there is a condition called puberphonia, where a guy still uses a high falsetto, or even a high modal voice because of how he was used to talking at a young age. When I had that revelation in June of 2013 when I had that dream in which I was swapped with a female’s body, I was all excited to learn about voice feminization therapy, and I ended up working for a company that did just that! In fact, here is the very first YouTube video that I watched on the topic! I was so mesmerised by how her voice sounded that I was afraid I’d freak out if I heard how she sounded before, but I eventually got a good grip on my courage, so that I could proceed.
I didn’t know what the Adam’s Apple was until I learnt about how some transgender women opted to have it shaved down. I examined my own throat and found that mine was barely visible! Was that then why people later told me my voice had a naturally high resonance even when I talked in a much lower range? People also commented about how high-pitched my S-sounds were, but being hard-of-hearing, I couldn’t hear it. I had also learnt about how the castrati eunuchs were popularised by the Roman Catholic church for many centuries, and I was reminded of the times my mother enroled me in that children’s church choir, although I personally didn’t really understand the songs we were singing because my hearing started deteriorating rapidly!
One afternoon, one of the young ladies who was guiding me pretty quickly to catch up with the group of blind adults in a training programme that I was with, she briefly held onto my left hand instead of having me hold onto her elbow, as you’re supposed to. She commented in nearly a whisper, ‘You’ve got soft hands!’ I pretended as if I hadn’t heard anything, because of that self-denial I was still experiencing at the time. Another lady had once said to me, ‘You’re a bright and intelligent young man!’ But when she saw me flinch involuntarily, she immediately corrected herself and said, ‘young adult!’ But at the same time, I felt very pleased that somebody had noticed, for I thought I was just imagining things!
I also thought it was interesting how a girl said that she enjoyed watching really pretty pieces of art that made her cry with the sheer beauty of them, and how she said that was a girl thing. What a coincidence! I was so engrossed with my new-found synaesthesia that I felt compelled to make a sound portrait of a girl with blonde hair, blue or green eyes, and creamy white skin with a flowing dress that flared out as she silently danced in the moonlight, with its cold, silvery light shimmering with intricate patterns.
It wasn’t until I read Mom, I need to be a Girl by Just Evylin, in which I finally confirmed my suspicions about who I really was as a person! I subsequently learnt about the left brain versus the right brain theory, as well as the nature and nurture debate. As a kid, I enjoyed reading and writing way more than I liked math and science. The only time I really liked science was when I could actually feel the experiments going on, as opposed to just reading about it. Ramona Quimby, from Ramona the Brave, actually liked results, and fast. Her friend, being the typical guy that he was, liked to take the time to think things over and figure things out. Therefore, I found that I loved the thrill of going on amusement rides, and hence, why I love watert, air, and space travel way more than car or train travel.
Since then, I wrote my first NaNoWriMo novel in 2014 about a character living in our time, but with very futuristic and transhuman technology that would make it possible for them to completely transform into the desired gender they had always felt themselves to be! In other books I have read, a male gynaecologist and a neurosurgeon actually proclaimed that the human body was such an amazing thing. Capable of pushing another human with such strong force out of their body, with brains that could lift vehicles to the moon, and that it was a shame we lack so many of the other things that animals have, like magnoreception or the ability to naturally change sexes. Complete with a VKET and battery of psychological evaluations, I modelled it after my own experiences and things I had read. Then of course, I heard Testimony by Stephen Schwarts being sung at my queer youth chorus, which has now been my favourite hallmark and anthem of all time! I used it to remind myself that things would get better for me someday; that our government would soon allow other gender markers besides male and female, that I’d get electrolysis or laser hair removal, that I’d get to wear more trans-affirming clothes, and that I’d soon find a partner to potentially move in with. And now look what a life I’ve earned! I hope to find closure by telling those in my past all the things I’ve learnt!
The following year, after I had read things about autocircumcision, I realised that I’ve had my foreskin retracted all this time! So, I went ahead and tried pulling it forward, and with some effort, I was able to get it back to where it was before! I had also ordered my first sex toy, along with some trans-affirming articles of clothing. I finally knew how to masturbate both with and without it, and I started joining dating and sex groups again. At the same time, I had begun reading horror stories about trans-women getting beat up, sometimes to death, by cishet guys who did it out of fear that they would be seen as gay if anyone found out. A lot of those trans-women tried to hide it, but those guys seem to always have a sixth sense. ‘Why are your hands and feet so big? Why does your voice sound so low? Why don’t you have any baby pictures?” I don’t know how it is for trans-guys, for they usually grow to be pretty muscular and develop bone structure when taking testosterone. It’s unfortunate that the body can only grow in one direction. I was so worried that I’d also be a statistic, so I decided to do away with dating straight cis-guys. I’d only date guys if they were bi/pansexual or trans-masculine, and cis/trans-women and nonbinary people who were also affirming, as well. I had to get used to ignoring messages from guys who just wanted to hit on me or try to take advantage of me in some way, but again, I always loved getting the attention that somebody at least noticed me! Basically, I, being LGBT, would only date other LGBTQIA+ people. Just like how blind people only feel comfortable dating other blind people, so do I. Yes, I know there is a big push to get blind people to date sighted people, but this doesn’t always work for everyone, and nobody should force their beliefs on them. It’s especially harder on blind female-identified people than it is on blind male-identified people, just because they fear that the sighted guys would take advantage of them in some way. And, even though I am severely hard-of-hearing, I have been able to get along with most blind people, although I sometimes have to remind them that yelling is not an effective means of communication, and that they should either try spelling out the unfamiliar words or write them down.
I wished I could’ve continued finding people to talk to between 2017 and now, but I unfortunately spent a lot of time being in debt and trying to recover from the aftermath of having been exposed to high heat for a long period of time. This is when I started having unbearable sensations of heats in my legs, and I frequently felt flushes creep up my face, and I began hyperventilating quite a lot! Luckily, by remaining calm, I was able to ward off most of these feelings. I wondered if this was how a hot flash felt, though. I also started having symptoms of gynaecomastia again, and I put on even more weight. My areolas had gotten enlarged, my limbs developed more flab, and I’m not sure if this was my imagination, but I felt as if my skin had gotten a little more softer. But at the same time, my facial features had developed some unwanted bone structures. Whilst recovering, though, I once had a dream that was so surreal, I wondered how my brain was able to conjure up sensations I never before experienced when I was sucking on a twenty-four-inch penis until I felt it shoot out its ejaculate in my mouth! Maybe this is what is considered collective unconscious.
Once I’ve healed sufficiently, I made my first trip to a cannabis dispensary, and then to a sex shop, where I got to check out a ton of dildos, many of which felt much bigger or wider than my own equipment! Even the testicular sac was broader and rounder. Some of them reminded me of the ones we used in our inclusive sex education programme called curving HIV and AIDS Transmission, or CHAT, where I became a certified peer sexpert! The shop I went to was very trans and nonbinary-inclusive! I also read young adult novels, like the True to Life Series from Hamilton High by Marilyn Reynolds, and some of the descriptions about rape and giving birth were really good. I have not found any descriptions of breastfeeding and lactation, so that is something I will want to research next because I’d love to do that someday after getting doula-certified! Somebody did recommend I watch Sixteen and Pregnant, though. I also learnt that eating placenta capsules was a natural way to consume high levels of oestrogen, so that is something I would like to try!
By visiting some of these shops, I subsequently got acquainted with sex dungeons, bathhouses, and night clubs. I got to go to one of these places and met some really wonderful people! I wanted to have some of the guys lie on their back to see how slowly I could get their penises to swing when it was hard, similar to how you’d get someone to dangle their breasts. I met some whose penises got thicker towards the base, which is my favourite, but I also met guys with really long and slender penises, as well! I also noticed that they had chest hair, while mine was completely bare. After a few more experiences like these, I met a really nice lady who commented that I must already be in mid-transition, for my package was so much smaller than the guys she’s been with! Now, I heard about micropenises and things, but I don’t know if that is what I might have. I’ve told her that I had always been short, and that it might have possibly been due to the soy milk, or just because I didn’t produce a lot of testosterone in general. Still, hearing her say that made me feel much better, considering that I had never been on hormones! But for fun, just to see if I could do it, I attempted to perform sexual intercourse after watching how somebody else did it. It was therefore no surprise to us that it felt as if I were knocking on someone’s door rather than pushing their way through. Still, I’d much rather have a guy penetrate me more than anything, but not anally. But if there’s one thing I learnt, is that having sex with masculine people is a lot like going on a thrill ride that makes you burn for more, whereas having sex with femme people feels like you would melt into a puddle. That is how I learnt that cuddling actually enhances oxytocin and endorphins.
When I had asked one of my fellow classmates, who I stayed in touch with after high school, and because she is also LGBT, what having sex was like, she described arousal as being very tingly, and generally being able to have multiple orgasms before being engulfed in endorphins and oxytocin, which is supposed to enhance your refractory period by wanting to cuddle. In fact, I learnt that holding onto your kegel muscles during orgasm can prevent ejaculation, allowing you to come multiple times, as well! And oxytocin also causes contractions, primarily in the uterus. So, if you don’t have one, then where else would you feel them? I know for me, the first time I ever had sex, I could literally feel my prostatic utricle contracting to force its ejaculate out of the urethra! The cramp I felt was pretty intense. So, it turns out that it is homologous to the upper vagina and uterus in biological females, so if you intensified that sensation one-hundred-fold and for prolonged periods of time, then you’d have labour pain on your hands! Anyhow, I experienced emotions so intense that I almost felt like crying after I had that exhilarating experience! I was forewarned that being blind, I naturally had sensory deprivations which would intensify my sexual experiences. I also learnt that if you prevent the penis from getting hard and you get aroused, you can create that deep inner tingle, as well!
The Smell of Sex
It is no surprise that as mammals, we use smells and pheromones to mark certain things, although I learnt since then that we are a group species. Still, we have exocrine glands that produce highly compounded sweat which bacteria feed on, which is what gives it that familiar scent. I actually just watched a music video explaining what our human microbeome sounds like, and I was surprised that the smells I associated with them also had some of the same synaesthetic principles! Some people wear musk perfumes or cologne that come from deer, which is supposed to smell like the top of your head if it hasn’t been washed in a while. Still, it was the pumpkin vanilla cream that provided the ultimate aromatic aphrodisiac, as it is both sweet, salty, and nutty! In fact, science explains why we love vanilla so much!
When I first came, I noticed that the semen had a bleach-like aroma, which other people describe as minute rice or pancake batter. But if I hadn’t washed out my sex toy, I noticed that it had a fishy smell. Other times, it had quite a bit of a chalky-like aroma, as well. Now, after browsing several forums on-line, people said that vaginal discharge and bacterial vaginosis has that kind of smell. So, what did that mean? Was it more than likely that our genitalia was very similar? Some women said your genitalia should smell like malted beer, baked goods, etc. One of my former partners said she didn’t like it because it reminded her of sour milk. And when I read Harry Potter, I was shocked to learn that one of the flavours of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Bean was earwax, I was, like, yuck!
Also, when watching Home Alone II and a guy was arguing with his partner about how she was cheating on him, he said, ‘I could smell you gettin’ off the elevator!’ Was he referring to that? I started researching the homology of sex organs, and I learnt that many of our bodily secretions are actually very, very much the same! I was able to prove this when I had oral sex with a man and a woman, and there was no real difference between them, including the viscosity of their juices compared to mine, so that made me feel much, much better! This article further proves it! I even read a book written by a queer author called The Sign for Home by Blair Fell, and, from the second perspective, he frequently wrote about how the main character could identify certain people by how they smelled. It gave me renewed hope that one day, transhuman technology will really be able to give someone a real set of reproductive sex organs instead of just creating an artificial facsimile of one! That is why I don’t want a transplant unless it can really and truly give me periods and allow me to fully deliver a baby naturally without a C-section. But if that was true, why did most guys socks smell like stinky cheese while girls smelt like buttered popcorn or onions? And it was therefore no surprise that I fit the latter category! There was also instances where there was a tortilla or Fritos-like aroma, as well, no doubt caused by pseudomonas. People claim that testosterone itself has smell, so I don’t know if oestrogen does, as well. People say that you should enhance your antioxidants based on what biological sex you were. When I was little, I met an elderly woman whom I called Grandma, and she always had a peculiar smell which I later learnt was caused by nonenal on the skin. An elderly gentleman sometimes had the smell I associated with the inside of a cabin of a commercial aircraft or train, which is often known for having stale coffee. Other times I’d smell something that would remind me of matches or gunpowder. And, in Tiger Eyes, Davy liked the smell of the bacteria caused by dead skin cells on linen, which she described as slightly salty, sour, and sweet all at the same time.
Other smells I learnt to identify was the sweet and nutty smell of breast milk, which reminded me of dish soap, and the smell of giving birth from The Handmaid’s Tale. They described it as the smell of sweat, blood (which menstruation also smells like), of inhabited caves, like when their cat gave birth. I unfortunately missed my cat giving birth, but I did notice a faint rubber-like aroma, though. It is true that the vernix caseosa is responsible for creating that sweetnewborn aroma, which some people describe as smelling like soap, milk, and fresh bread all at the same time. Some journalists also described the smell of cremating human bodies, like the burnt hair smell, the sweet perfume of cerebrospinal fluid, the metallic smell of iron, and the cooking of skin, muscles, tendons, and ligaments. Remember how I said that holding onto metal causes that smell? It is the iron in your bloodstream which is responsible for causing that reaction with your skin.
I have finally found myself, found happiness, and came into the person I was and was always meant to be! And when I die, and when it’s my time to go, I want to come back as me. I am a proud polyamorous, pansexual, transfeminine/nonbinary unicorn! I hope I will get to live to see the day that I will have all my bones reshaped and resized, my reproductive organs replaced or swapped out, and my voice further feminised! Wolverines are the key to unlocking their strong healing factor for transgender reproduction technology.
Ave Maria, Gracia plena. Dominus tecum. Benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus. Fructus ventris tuae, Jesus. Sancta Maria, Mater dei, ora pro nobis. Nobis peccatoribus. Nunc et in hora mortis nostrae. Amem.
As always, continue practicing safe sex whenever possible to prevent STDIs and unwanted pregnancies, and until next time!
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