Re-Release! Best Laid Plans

Disowned by his family for being transgender, Kale drained his bank account and set out to go as far as the money would take him. He planned to make a new life for himself. But when the money stopped, he found himself homeless, his plans pretty much screwed.

Perry set out to pay a male hooker to slake his lust. Instead he found a handsome young man who insisted he wasn't a prostitute. A little bit of convincing, a flash of money, and one random Tuesday turned into once a week, and Perry found himself in dangerous territory. After all, the plan wasn't to fall in love.

Cause I'm Me, and I'm AWESOME!

I've been thinking about a lot of things lately, not the least of which is gender. Specifically, my gender. I made a comment on a post in a group the other day, and someone asked me "Are you a man or a woman?" because my gender marker doesn't show on FB (or at least, it's not supposed to - who knows FB from one minute to the next). I asked them why it mattered, and they said they "needed to know." I then asked, "Why? Is it going to change what you think of my answer? Does what's between my legs determine if you'll agree with me or not, or take me seriously or not? Do my genitals validate or invalidate me or my beliefs, opinions, and arguments?" To which they answered "No, of course not!" So I was still left with the "Why?"

Why must I label myself for the comfort of others? Why can't I be judged on what I bring to the table instead? Not just in writing, but in life.

Why can't I be judged on the fact that I overtip, or I talk to the homeless guy who hangs out around my college, or that I have a million phobias but I'm fearless when someone tells me "you can't" or "you shouldn't," or the fact that I write hot smut, or the fact that I'm passionate about a lot of things, or that I'm loyal, or that I type 96 words a minute and I'll turn in a 22 page report when the requirement is only 5-7 pages?

Why can't I be judged on these things? These are my merits, after all. These are the things I can influence on a daily basis. These are the things I can either fail at or triumph at. These are the measures of my worth. Not my anatomy. My anatomy is a random happenstance of genes - it's nothing I did or earned.

Which is why... I think... So, the other day, I went and had my haircut. The hairdresser referred to me as "she" and "female" and you know what? I really didn't give a shit. And I started to wonder...why had I ever?

Yes, I'm absolutely masculine. I'm absolutely male.

But what does that mean, really? Does it mean I'm automatically more worthy of something? Less worthy? Smarter? Stronger? Stupider? Weaker?

It means absolutely nothing. Nothing.

I'm me. I don't have to be male. I don't have to be female. I just have to be awesome.

Be Part of the Solution

This is a no comment post. What does that mean? Well, it means it originally appeared as a guest post on a website but it didn't get any comments. I'm sharing it as a recycled post because I think it still has merit, and well, frankly I wrote the darn thing, so somebody should read it! LOL

This one originally appeared on Wet Dreams, as part of the Love is Love Tour, on Saturday, February 16, 2013 (there are six comments, but as you can see, they're all spam)

Be Part of the Solution by DC Juris

One of the questions I get asked a lot is "what is it like to be transgender?"

The answer I'd love to give is, "being transgender is just like being you or anyone else - I'm human first. I'm just like you."

It's not that cut and dry, though.

Unfortunately, our society, though much more open/accepting/tolerant than in the past, still doesn't fully embrace transgender people. A lot of that stems from a lack of education, but most of it stems from growing up being taught that the world revolves around gender roles, and the belief that anatomy concretely defines gender.

Most people take one look at me and think "female." They don't bother to stop and speak to me, to find out that my insides don't match my outsides. I guess, at the basest level, that's what being transgender is – having outsides that don't match your insides. Your body doesn't match your mind, heart, and soul.

Imagine for a moment that tomorrow you wake up in the body of the opposite gender. You're still you – same thoughts, feelings, beliefs, hobbies, ect. But your body doesn't match. People are referring to you by the wrong pronouns, calling you the wrong name. And no matter how many times you correct them or try to explain – hey, this is just a crazy mistake – no one believes you. No one takes you seriously. And even if they do, if you do something remotely "feminine" or "masculine" – anything that, in their eyes, defies what you've told them – they take that as "proof" that you're wrong or confused.

That's the reality of life for a lot of transgender people. It was the reality of life for me, for a while. I spent a good deal of my time spinning my wheels and getting nowhere. There were times when I thought to myself, "I might as well just put on a damned dress and be what everyone wants me to be. There's no point because no one takes me seriously as a man."

And then I met someone who did. Or at least, someone who didn't think I was a freak, or confused, or lying, or trying to get attention. I eventually married that person, and we're still together, even though he married a woman and now sleeps with a man. He understands that, beneath all the labels, I haven't really changed. He loves me – the inside. The mind, heart, and soul.

One person is really all it takes to change a life. One person was all it took the night I decided to end it all, and one person was all it took later on for me to realize I could be who I was meant to be, and it didn't mean losing everyone in my life. Mind you, I've lost a fair amount of family and friends because I'm transgender. More than I lost when I came out as bisexual. For some reason they could wrap their minds around me sleeping with both genders, but not me wanting to be a different one than I was born.

But I'm rambling. The point of this post is this: you are one person, but you can make a difference, and here are some ways:

Think before you use gender pronouns. How often do you speak to a complete stranger and start with "Ma'am" or "Sir"? Is that really necessary? How about "excuse me" or "pardon me" or something like that? No matter how the person is dressed, you don't truly know how they identify as far as gender. They may be simply wearing what they have to wear to blend in or not get fired or appease a family member.

Educate yourself. Don't just assume you know what it's like to be transgender, or what it means. Do some research, dig up some info. You may find that you don't have the first clue about what transgender life is like.

How often have you thought one of the following: "she's too fat for that outfit," "Lawdamighty what was she thinking wearing that?", "why doesn't he shave his beard – he looks stupid like that!" Let's be honest, we've all done that. We've all looked at someone else, shook our heads and wondered why a train wreck like that is allowed out in public. Well, stop. You don't know the first thing about that person. Maybe she's a transwoman, and the only clothes she can afford come from a thrift store. Maybe he's a transman, and he's in the middle of hormone therapy, and his body hair is all going crazy on him. The point is – stop judging other people. You're probably not perfect yourself.

Be kind, rewind. And no, I don't mean videotapes. I mean thoughts. Before you speak, rewind your thoughts in your head. Is what you're about to say going to be helpful, or are you just spouting ignorance?

Be inquisitive, but sensitive. Wanna know the number one question I get asked? It's "do you wear a penis all the time?" Now just who in the hell has the right to ask me that, and whose business is it anyway? If you're going to ask questions, which a lot (not all but a lot) of trans people encourage, do so in a way that's not insulting. Don't ask things like "how do you have sex?" Seriously? We have sex just like you do! A better phrasing might be, "I'm trying to understand your sexual options. Are there tools that are better or more functional?" (Hell, I don't know, but you get the idea!)

Be respectful of personal space. Just because a transperson is your friend, doesn’t mean they're comfortable with being touched. Like everyone else on the planet, transpeople have their own quirks. For us though, touch can be a bigger deal that most. Some transpeople, with or without surgery, aren't comfortable with certain parts of their bodies. Even being hugged can be traumatic. Keep that in mind.

And finally, if a transperson has told you their gender, use the right pronouns. Transmen are he, him, etc. Transwomen are she, her, etc. They are the gender they live and present as, not the one they are born with. NO MATTER HOW FEMININE OR MASCULINE THEY MIGHT LOOK TO YOU! I can't stress that enough. Don't use lame excuses like "I keep forgetting" or "you looked girly today." Stop forgetting. Make an conscious effort and be respectful of the effort they are making every moment of the day.

Here are some helpful resources for more information and education about transgender people and the issues we face.

(Some of them are overtly not safe for work, and I've indicated that in front of the link, but you should assume all of them might contain content you don't want your boss catching you looking at!)

NSFW - http://toysforxxboys.blogspot.com/

NSFW - http://www.toolshedtoys.com/

NSFW - http://www.ftmessentials.com/

http://www.theselfmademen.com/

NSFW - http://www.peecockproducts.com/index.php?_a=viewCat&catId=1

NSFW - http://www.thetransitionalmale.com/gear.html

http://www.ftmguide.org/

http://www.tsroadmap.com/index.html

http://www.debradavis.org/

http://www.transgendercare.com/

http://www.transgenderzone.com/

http://www.gendersanity.com/links.html

NSFW - http://www.clcrv.com/index.cfm

http://iamtransgendered.com/Links.aspx

http://www.chazbono.net/

http://www.susans.org/

http://transsexual.org/

http://www.ntac.org/

http://www.gendertalk.com/info/resource/index.shtml

NEW RELEASE: Family Matters

Blurb:


Chains? Check. Lube? Check. Popsicles? Check!! Oscar and his transgender lover, Derek, are all set for a long weekend of some much needed--and more than a little bit kinky--alone time. When Derek gets an invitation to a get-together from his mother, Oscar is excited for the chance to finally meet Derek's elusive family, even if it'll cut their "festivities" short. But he soon learns the reasons why he hasn't met them yet - the majority of Derek's family, including his mother, are transphobic. Oscar and Derek attend the function anyway, but the stress sends Derek into an all-night migraine, and Oscar is forced to look for help from the last person he wants to: Derek's mom, Beverly. Can Oscar convince
Beverly that Derek is her child, regardless of gender? Or will Beverly's narrow-minded ways split her family apart for good?

Excerpt:

Oscar looked up from the newspaper and nearly spit his morning coffee all over himself. "What the fuck are you wearing?" Derek stood just outside their bedroom door. In a dress. A frilly lavender dress, pantyhose, and a pair of shiny black heels.

Derek hung his head. "I told you we were going to my family thing today."

"So?"

"My mother hates Derek. She wants me to be Amy." Derek's shoulders sagged. "So I'm Amy."

"Fuck that! Go change." Anger flared in Oscar so intensely that he was forced to put his mug down or else spill the contents with the shaking of his hand. Derek had said his family didn't approve, but this? Criminal. How dare anyone make Derek feel like he wasn't good enough! How dare anyone demand that he change, that he apologize for who he was!

"I can't." Just a whisper.

"Then we're not going. Or I'm not. I'm not going to watch you play dress up and parade around for their approval. That's fucking bullshit! There's nothing wrong with the way you are, and if those assholes can't see that then fuck them, wubby bear. Fuck every last one of them."

"My mother hates Derek," Derek repeated. He stood stiffly, an air of uncomfortable tension radiating from him.

"Your mother ought to be glad her kid's still alive," Oscar spat, thinking of his childhood friend Maria, who'd been unable to handle the pressures of her gender confusion, and had killed herself.

"I think she'd prefer dead Amy to live Derek."

Oscar's face flushed with the red heat of rage. He stood, shaking his head, and took Derek by the elbow. "Come change. Now."