A while ago, I was on a few podcasts to talk about trans men’s experiences in sex work. All of them were ostensibly feminist, left-wing, run by sex workers, and claimed to be trans-inclusive. Only one of them had an aftershow they’d record with other guests to talk about the previous episode. It made me feel physically ill to watch. The content was deeply fetishizing and de-gendering all at once; the last thing I should have had to expect from the trans ally sex worker crowd.
Trans men were talked about as a cute and non-threatening alternative to cis men, who are sexually desirable because we have the masculine traits they want but aren’t “socialized as men” and thus don’t suffer from their less attractive personality traits. Socialization is not so simple, and trans people cannot be presumed to absorb it in the same way as the cis people around us. The rhetoric that we are a safer and more caring alternative to cis men as a result of our birth assignment is a claim that the suffering we experienced by being forced into a female gender role was a positive thing.
The implications of talking about socialization like this become even worse when flipped, because if a lack of male socialization makes a person less threatening then we have to assume that an abundance of it does the opposite. If our socialization is tied to our birth assignment and we apply this to trans women, they are implied to be undesirable or aggressive because of the traumatic experience of being raised with male expectations pushed on them. I was revolted that the people discussing me thought they were giving a compliment, unconcerned for what they were implying about trans women I know and love.
It felt vile to be seen as attractive explicitly for a negative experience (being raised with the expectation of becoming a woman), and to be talked about as an alternative to cis men who is only appealing for that reason. The lack of a penis being theorized to make someone a better lover because they’ll focus less on their own orgasm makes me think of every trans man who is dysphoric about being touched, who gets treated as a selfless partner instead of a man who is struggling and never gets support. It’s a chaser mentality, viewing the things which cause us dysphoria as hot, by people who would see themselves as totally distinct from a far more upfront and honest cis gay guy on Grindr fishing for boypussy.
Other comments throughout the aftershow episode only compounded this sense of being fetishized, including speculation about how many “bicurious” gay men there are who might want to see trans men. We were framed as such a novelty, not truly being men and requiring an open mind, to the extent that a gay man would be less gay for his interest in us.
Myths about testosterone were also shared, like the idea that it makes trans men more “covetous of female bodies” and how it can create certain mannerisms or traits that one of the guests disliked seeing in cis men. Hearing her continue to talk about testosterone negatively and suggest that trans men who take it will become aggressive and angry, with no pushback, was frustrating. Every time they’d talked about how “cute” trans men are and how they’d like to book a transmasculine sex worker became recharacterized by the distaste for testosterone – we were preferred when we put off medical transition.
After a short e-mail exchange detailing my issues with the video, it was removed. I was still frustrated with no real outlet for it, since the host took my criticism with a quick apology and silence afterward. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen this kind of fetishization of trans men coupled with discouragement from medical transition, justified with a thin veneer of feminism, but it shook me more that the recording was shared so publicly.
I find this kind of supposedly feminist thirsting over trans men to be harder to combat than chasers’ usual fetishization. It disguises itself as a compliment about more than solely the attractiveness of our bodies, but as a comment on our goodness as people. To argue against this characterisation is to ask to be seen as less trustworthy, and who doesn’t want to be assumed to be sexually attentive and safe to be with? It’s a shame that belief comes with so many transphobic strings attached.
Women who have sought me out for sex have told me it’s nice to be with a trans guy rather than the cis men they usually sleep with, because for once the sex won’t revolve around when their partner cums. They get excited about the idea they can pick the size of strap I’ll use, already expecting me to default to mimicking a cis dick. It took me several repeats of the same type of encounter before I realized their enjoyment came at the expense of mine, because my worth was in proving I could be of service to them and make them orgasm better than their cis boyfriends had as a way to prove my worth. Any sexual satisfaction I derived was secondary, by my own effort and not theirs, and sex still ended after penetration and orgasm… on a toy I could not feel, never from me, and with no check-ins about what I want or enjoy. I was making up for the behaviour of cis men who had harmed and mistreated me the same ways they had been mistreated.
Assessing risk leads some people to remove cis men from their dating and casual sex pool. I don’t begrudge those people a thing, nor do I think it is inherently fetishizing if they don’t reject trans men at the same time, though I do find being assessed as a partner based on my statistical likelihood of causing harm to be unsettling. A line is crossed when trans men are turned into proxies who can be used to work through sexual frustrations with the ineptness and entitlement cis men have had during past hook-ups and relationships, and when the way we can be manipulated in search of gender affirmation is seen as a selling point.
I sleep with other trans men when I find them attractive and compatible with me. No political point and no ulterior motive. I don’t imagine an ideal that hinges on him being a certain type of trans person, nor do I get off on insecurity he might feel because of dysphoria; I approach sex with him the same way I would with anyone. In time, I would like to see more feminists approaching sex with individuals this way, whilst they keep risk in mind. Anyone could hurt you and anyone could be incredibly sensitive and attentive as a partner, no matter how likelihoods may change based on demographic.
It’s not feminist to work through your anger with cis men using the trans men you want to fuck.
Jack Talks About Sex Work 