Don’t get me wrong, I really don’t enjoy feeling like a peripheral, marginalized part of society on the outskirts of society, and I’m definitely conflicted when it comes to .Even if given the choice to put something other than those two, I’d probably stick with “female” because I would want to avoid judgment.Unfortunately, I feel the need to attach an asterisk to the “woman” label from time to time as the situation demands.In the gender binary dating system, my choices get boiled down to a radio button that claims either “male” or “female.” That works fine for government documents but doesn’t tell the whole story when it comes to my body.That first year was one filled with tremendous tumult and it wasn’t until my 9 month that I decided I looked okay-ish enough to try dating as a transwoman.I actually started seeking a partner by signing up for a sketchy transgender woman dating site.
Let me start this off by saying that I am a woman and that is how I identify 95% of the time.
Personally, I wanted a man that was local and didn’t require me to learn Czech or Russian.
I gave the site about two or three weeks before I decided to move on to my first, middle, and last dating site love: OKCupid. It is easily accessible by everyone, you can screen people by their match percentage based on answering questions about your preference for bacon and atheism, and, most importantly, it’s free.
For you folks at home, I am a thirty-two year old transwoman living in Nashville, TN and I’m currently saving up to afford vaginoplasty so that I can finally look good in yoga pants.
I won’t lie, I can totally rock a bikini if need be, but vigorous moving around can Release the Kraken so to speak, and then you’re stuck with an awkward lump in your knickers where should only hang a fine set of vaginal drapery.
The premise was simple enough: transwomen on one side, men on the other, and a virtual 8 grade dance hall in the middle filled with size 11 shoes and stubbornly hairy upper lips.