I traveled to my aunt’s house in Rochester, NY this weekend to scan my great-grandmother’s scrapbook. Those who have been reading for a while know that I can barely drive, and so a four-hour drive is quite substantial for me, quite frightening. But I felt it
I suppose I spent so long worrying about being a real man, or even a real trans man, that I haven’t found much time to worry about being a real writer. I am a man who doesn’t have a cock. In fact, I am a man who has
Menstrual products, chest binders, and power.
We speak of what we want in our next life, the lacks in this one. More adventurous, one says. More kind. I say, I wish I’d spoken up more. We draw line charts of our fulfillment over time. Then she says close your eyes, picture your own death. We
For a while my mouth didn’t close and I had to eat pizza with a fork. This is where people interrupt and say what do you mean, your mouth didn’t close? and I take my two hands, wrists together, fingers apart, and show how my jaw closed in
What makes me cringe isn’t saying how many men I’ve fucked or lifting my shirt to reveal hairy breasts that she—trans-competent— resolutely only calls “chest.” It’s what slips out when she presses powdered-latex fingers into the flesh over my heart: “I kind of want
I was a Buddhist then, and never asked for anything. I chanted each day, Desires are inexhaustible, I vow to put an end to them and I wanted to be pregnant with a fierceness beyond reason. Enough to stop T and let my body go alien, enough to let countless
A secret about me is that I’m not originally a numbers person. I got good at understanding data because I thought it was important in order for me to think critically about the information I was given. I hear many people say, “You can lie with numbers,” which is
“You’re so brave,” says the white-haired old bear, because I’m standing here naked with everyone’s dick swinging below their vodka soda. “What a journey.” He says he’s never seen a body like mine except in porn, then smiles: “You’ve got balls, kiddo.” This happens
Changing a menstrual cup in the men’s room is hard only because you were supposed to be six months pregnant by now, supposed to have learned to puke here instead. But bleeding is all you know. Cough to cover the squelching sound when you pull it out, or don’