I legit almost bought one wednesday for full priceā¦ glad i waited!!! taking this as āØa sign āØ n getting it this time! @jadalouisā thank you sm for the psa
tuberculosis: hey there was just this disease for a huge part of human history that killed literally 1 in 7 people like that was just a fact of life that it existed and then one day we found ways to deal with it and after that just being a terrifying constant facet of life suddenly it's just Not
radiation: hey there's this thing that literally Unravels Your DNA and things exposed to it need to be locked away in concrete tombs for eternity because it lingers for measures of time beyond our real ability to perceive
I'm so fucking sick of this politically correct overly inclusive bullshit
The extreme individuals in the trans community and trans ally groups aka the new branch of homophobia need to stop coercing this idea that you must force yourself to be more āopen mindedā about your sexuality. That if you are into women then you can certainly be into a woman with a penis. Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds? I saw people on Facebook discussing the whole well not all women have vaginas. Correction ,not all people who identify as a woman have vaginas. There are plenty of people whose sexuality is inclusive of dating trans individuals. Stop targeting homosexual and heterosexual men and women! It DOES NOT make you transphobic if you donāt want to date a trans man or woman when they do not align with your sexual identity and preferences. Sexual orientation is about sex and who you are sexually attracted to! Fucks sake. Iām bisexual but matching genitalia is important to me. I date a man or a woman partly because I either want penis or vulva. Donāt give me the bullshit about strapons or other sexual practices that donāt involve penile penetration.
Okay, since it seems this question pops up a lot from cis mlm who are interested in having a sexual relationship with trans men, I decided to compile a list of tips for approaching safe, enjoyable, non-dysphoria inducing sex. Sorry about the length:
1. Ask about terminology:
This is such an important first step and why I listed it first: if you donāt know what to call a partnerās body partāask them! Donāt assume theyāre totally fine with one thing or the other. Getting it wrong can be awkward at best, incredibly dysphoria inducing at worst (and a relationship ender right off the bat). Some guys like to call a part of themselves theirĀ āclitā, while others prefer to call the same part ādick/cockā or justĀ ājunkā. The best way to phrase this question is to make it neutral, something likeĀ āwhat terms do you use for your body parts?ā rather than something likeĀ āwhat do you call your vagina?ā which implies that one term is already more valid/ārealā than another. Of course, this is after youāve already established that sexual stuff is going to ensueādonāt make this your first message to the guy on a hook up app.
2. Ask about boundaries:
Especially if you are dealing with a dysphoric person, but also just in general, knowing which parts are okay to touch, which parts are 100% off limits, and which parts may have certain conditions for interacting with them is a must. Again, communication is very important. Maybe your guy really likes using his front hole, but butt stuff is off-limits. You never know until you ask, and maybe you have boundaries as well you want to go over.
This goes the other way too! Donāt just automatically assume something will make your partner dysphoricāit may very well be something they actually enjoy.
3. Donāt make assumptions about our bodies or preferred positions.
Iāve already said it multiple times already, but open communication rather than making assumptions is really key. Iāve seen many cis guys who have assumed that all trans men want to strictly bottom, and even a few who thought the exact opposite. The reality is that trans men have as much variety in sex preferences as anyone elseāsome bottom, some top, some are verse, some donāt enjoy penetrative sex at all. And for those of you wondering how a trans man could top, or worrying that it might be less enjoyable for either party than a cis man toppingādonāt knock it till you try it. There are plenty of toys, strap-ons and other sex technology wonders that you have yet to explore, not to mention that many trans men do have flesh and blood penises that they are more than happy to use.Ā
4. If you use toys, strap-ons, and prosthetics:
Donāt assume everything is aĀ ātoyā. For some trans men, their prosthetic is a natural part of their anatomy, and it can be upsetting and disorienting to refer to it as a toy.
If shopping for toys or prosthetics, make sure itās something your partner actually wants (again donāt assume!) and make sure your partner actually likes what you pick. I know it can seem nice or sexy to surprise your partner with a gift, but toys and prosthetics can be extremely personal, so whoever is using the product should have a say what itāll be like. If you still want to go for the surprise element, think about giving them a gift certificate or an I.O.U. for a sex shop instead. Then you can make it a fun outing together.
5. Donāt ask them about surgeries, hormones, or their life ābeforeā:Ā
This should be a no-brainer, but unfortunately too many guys make this mistake immediately upon meeting a trans person. Maybe youāre going into a very committed, long-term relationship with the guy. Maybe just a one night grindr hook up. Doesnāt matter. If he wants to talk to you about it, he will. Otherwise itās none of your business.
6. Donāt bring up passing.
Really, the amount of guys that think theyāre being helpful when they tell us how weĀ ālook so much more manly than other trans guys!ā or how weādĀ āpass so much better if you just did xā. Itās obnoxious and upsetting. Trans people know a hell of a lot more about the intricacies of passing than whatever you think you do, and we donāt like back-handed compliments that come from comparing us to other trans people. Youāre not winning any brownie points from these comments, they just make you seem ignorant and rude.
7. We are not an encyclopedia of trans knowledge.
If weāre on a dating website or app, weāre there for the same reason as you: to meet people for sex, romance, friendship, etc. Weāre not there to answer questions that you have about trans people, especially when almost all of them are easy to answer on a cursory google search. We donāt want to be asked to help write your gender studies essay, or asked how we feel about [insert trans celebrity]. Really, just donāt do this. Itās an immediate block for most people.
8. Donāt tell us weāre brave.
Kinda on the same note as the last one, donāt tell us āweāre so braveā for existing or that youāre āproudā or even about the trans sibling cousin roommate friend neighbor teacher etc that you have. We donāt need cringe-y condescension when weāre trying to hook up. And cāmon, you should know this already from when straight people tell you this.
9. Weāre not your experiment.
Donāt have sex with us just because you want toĀ āexperimentā with having sex with a trans person, and especially not because you see us as some kind of stepping stone to having sex withĀ ārealā men.
10. Donāt assume we all think the same.
Again, should be obvious, but it unfortunately isnāt. Just because you dated a trans man in the past that was comfortable with x, doesnāt mean your new partner feels the same way. We arenāt a hivemind. Trans people are individuals with varied experiences, pasts, preferences, and levels of dysphoria. Follow all the above steps again every time you engage with a new partner.
11. You wonāt always know youāre having sex with a trans person. And thatās okay.
Yes, you read that right. This is something that actually happens. Some trans men areĀ āstealthā, meaning that they live their lives with little to zero people aware that they are trans. This doesnāt mean theyāre trying toĀ ātrickā you, and this doesnāt make them a bad person. Many trans people do this for a variety of reasons, such as safety and their own comfortāsome guys just think of being trans as part of their medical history, and not worth mentioning. Regardless of reasons,Ā it is an incredibly personal decision. Donāt be offended if a trans man chooses not to come out to you. He has his reasons, and you should respect that.
12. Have fun with it.
Seriously, this may seem like a terribly long list of responsibilities, but almost all of these are things you should be doing with any partner. And once youāve got them down, they become surprisingly more natural than youād think. Remember that youāre doing this because you want to share an enjoyable experience with another person. And yeah, you might occasionally slip up, but we know that, and itās usually pretty obvious when youāre trying. So relax and have fun.
If any other trans mlm have something to add, feel free to contribute.
Story Time: Get a load of what happened to me at Starbucks today.
Thereās a running joke among people who know me personally that I unwittingly go out in public with a sign on my forehead stating āI Am Non-Threatening. Come Talk To Me.ā Because if thereās a chance a bizarre conversation with a total stranger is going to happen, Iām typically the person it happens to.
Some context: I have been pretty darn sick this week. (Itās not Coronavirus, donāt worry.) Since the work in my queue for my day job is comprised entirely of audio narration right now, and I currently sound like a waterlogged Demi Moore, I havenāt been able to work these last couple of days. As a result, Iāve been using my down time to knock out as much of Manuās redesign as possible. Today, to ensure I didnāt spend the day languishing in sinus misery, I medicated the crap out of myself and took Manu to the Starbucks down the block from my sonās day care.
I hit the bathroom, then picked an empty table, but as soon as I sat down with my venti Comfort Tea and started tweaking the inks on my iPad, I felt the eyes of the man next to me looking over my shoulder.
When I looked up, he had his phone out. āIām sorry,ā he said (in a thick accent I couldnāt place geographically), āI donāt want to disturb. I notice you art. You are artist!ā
I tried to smile. āYes, Iām... Well, Iām trying to be,ā I croaked.
He leaned in, like he was sharing a secret.
āI am artist, too.ā
He stuck out his hand.
I gently took it, grateful for the bathroom trip I just took in which I washed the scourge off of my fingers.
āCan I?ā he asked, holding his phone up.
āTake a picture? Uh... sure,ā I said. Itās not like he would be able to steal Manu out from under me or anything, I figured. The panel I was tweaking was magnified out to Guam.
āI am artist. Architect and Designer,ā he clarified while he steadied his phone over my iPad. āI am Ilker. What is your name?ā
āIām Venessaā I said, trying to be polite. This, I thought warily, is precisely how I get myself into trouble. Iām too damn nice.
āYou know, I come to America twenty years ago from Turkey...ā
I put down my stylus. This was going to be a while.
āI like Turkey,ā he explained. āI like the country and I like the people. But I am artist. I am not... religious man.ā
I nodded.
āI told my wife I was going to go to America and she said, āwhat are you going to do? You donāt have job! You donāt have money! No Visa!ā And I said, āI am artist and architect. I will paint and sell my paintings.
āSo I come to America alone. To New York City. I sit outside, and I paint. And people, they liked my paintings. They bought them. This one for $30, that one for $50.
āOne day, a man comes over to me and he say, āI like your painting. I see you are also architect.ā And he gives me his number and asks me to go to meeting at his office. Because he wants to offer me a job. He starts to talk about a building contract.
āI tell him I donāt know anything about contracts. I have no Visa. I am not American citizen. But he says, āThatās okay. I will take care of everything. You will have nothing to worry about.ā And this man, he gave me a job. $173,000 a year. And my wife, he gave her a job too. She was project assistant. I bring her and my two daughters over from Turkey.ā
āWow,ā I said, not fully believing the veracity of what sounded like a full-on immigration fairy tale.
āHere,ā said Ilker, unlocking his phone and opening up his Facebook app. āI show you my work.ā He paused and looked up at me. āI am interrupting. You donāt mind?ā
At this point, I was invested. I had to see. Because whatever he was about to show me would either prove or disprove this yarn he was spinning. āPlease,ā I said, gesturing for him to go ahead.
He opened his photos and my jaw dropped. His work... was UNREAL.
āThis is building I designed on Madison Ave.... And this one in Chelsea...ā
Holy crap. I had just been to Chelsea with my sister last month on a trip to see a broadway show. I had crossed the intersection of the building he was, at this moment, telling me he designed.
He flipped through more buildings. These, heād designed in Washington, DC. In Bethesda. In Arlington. All beautiful, streamlined, modern structures I had visited and parked my car in front of. He told me he did much of his concept work freehand. That he worked exclusively in natural media. His preferred media was pen, ink, watercolors, and chalks.
Between photos of his wife and daughters, he went on to show me photos from the RUSSIAN EXHIBITION OF HIS ARCHITECTURE ARTWORK.
Yāall, I was stunned. I couldnāt believe the talent I was sitting next to. Scattered among these gloriously rendered images of some of the most beautiful building concepts Iād ever seen were paintings of scenes in Central Park, the National Mall, and nudes from a life-drawing session he attends from time to time.
When he was done flipping through his phone, he looked at me and smiled. āI hope you donāt mind that I interrupt you. I show you all this because what you are doing is very good. And you should be encouraged. To draw is to make beauty.ā
I nodded, a lump in my throat. āThank you,ā I managed. āYour work is astonishing. I donāt even know what to say. What is your name again?ā
He held out his hand once more. āIlker Kocahan,ā he said. āI am getting more coffee. Can I get you one?ā
I looked at my still-full venti cup. āNo thank you. But here, please take my card.ā
He held my dinky business card like Iād handed him a treasure and thanked me.
Then Ilker got his coffee, and left the coffee shop.
At some point in his ramblings he talked about America as a place of dreams. How he credits this country with helping him rise to the top of his field where he is now able to sell his paintings for $800-$1000 a piece now that heās retired. My heart ached to hear him talk about that, knowing how our leadershipās positions on immigrants have taken such a dark and horrifying turn.
Imagine the buildings and museums and public places that would never have been if a business man in the park hadnāt lifted up a Turkish painter who spoke little English.
And now that painter was paying it forward on me.
I still feel pretty darn sick. Iāve still got body aches and a nose that has taken the rest of my face hostage.
But today was a really good day. And I just wanted to share it with you in case you are looking for reasons to keep drawing/painting/dancing/writing. It all counts and it is all good.
If you would like to see Ilker Kocohanās work, please click here.
Ilker Kocahan holds a bachelorās degree in Industrial Design with a minor in architecture from the University of Marmara, Faculty of Fine A
UPDATE TO THIS STORY! I would have posted this sooner, but quarantine has had the unexpected effect of zapping all my alone-time...
As luck would have it, I saw Ilker one last time before my area received the mandate to start social distancing. I came into the Starbucks to work on the āSimon Is On the Groundā comic while waiting to pick up my kid from day care, and there he was, happily chatting with the Starbucks manager, who gifted him with a Starbucks hat while I ordered my tea.
A week had passed since our first meeting, so I wasnāt sure heād recognize me. Lo and behold, as I turned the corner, I caught his eye, and he waved at me. This time, I asked if I might sit with him, and he warmly offered the seat beside him.
While I settled in, he told me that his project was being delayed and that he was going to leave the area and fly home before COVID-19 could make it impossible to travel. The hat was for his wife, whose only understanding of Starbucks was that Ilker really liked the coffee.
As one might expect, we immediately fell into another conversation about art, except this time, I eagerly abandoned my work to hear him talk.
And friends, did I ever get a master class.
He pulled up a painting on his phone which heād sold for $800. It was a life drawing in ink and watercolor of a woman in a demure gesture, barely detailed and colored in but for her rose-tinted lips and the shadow cast across her neck. He said he felt sad that heād sold it because he really loved how it came out.
āThis is no detailed like yours,ā he said, comparing his painting to my panel of Simon and Baz. āMine is simple. But in a few strokes, I can capture the life of the lady.ā
He took his napkin, turned it over, and pulled a pen out of his chest pocket. āLook there,ā he said, pointing to a man sitting a few tables away. He began to scribble away on the napkin, lines and lines and more lines. āYou see,ā he murmured as he ran his pen over the napkin, āI can, with speed, capture the man. I donāt have hours to ask him to sit. I must let go of the planning.ā
In seconds, the man across the room took shape on the napkin in a series of confident if also messy lines. It was incredible to watch.
I could instantly see what he meant. He had not produced a photorealistic version of this person on the napkin. But he had captured the manās essence. The aura of a real person sitting contemplatively with his coffee while reading the Washington Post. I could feel the life of the drawing radiate from the paper.
(When he was done, to my horror, he crumpled up the napkin.)
I shyly mentioned that Iāve been working hard on my own gesture drawing, but had a long way to go, so he asked to see my sketchbook.
I mean... is there even a word in the English language to describe the combination of dread and embarrassment that precedes showing an art master your crap-ass sketchbook that no one sees but you? I didnāt know what to do with myself as he sat there and flipped through the pages.
Eventually, he nodded approvingly and said, āOkay! Is good. But this is sketchbook like every other.ā He gestured at the page. āWhere are you?ā
I was lost for how to respond, but lucky for me, heās a talkative guy seemingly incapable of awkward silences.
āThe world needs to see you in the lines,ā he explained. āSomeone can look at my work and know, āthat painting is from Ilker Kocahan.ā You need to draw more and more so that when people look at your drawings, they will know: this work is Venessaās work.ā Then he shrugged and said, āAnd who knows. I will maybe see you in two years at this Starbucks, and by then, your drawings will be truly yours.ā
Iāve shared this story with some close friends who took mild offense on my behalf at his observations, but I really think it took sitting there watching him draw to understand exactly what he was talking about.
Ilker Kocahan has no imposter syndrome. He is supremely confident in every possible way where his art is concerned. The lines that flowed from his pen were fueled by his soul, not his brain. I didnāt think artists like him existed anymore until I was sitting there looking over his shoulder while he scribbled a man into existence, like it was nothing. When I asked if he plots out the perspective on his building sketches in advance, he shook his head no and doodled this on my cake pop wrapper while he rambled on about the components he likes to include in his architecture concepts:
(Donāt worry. I kept it.)
So when he talked about āfinding meā in my sketches, I really think he could senseāby the light scratch of the pencil, the trace evidence on the paper of my erasing and failed attemptsāmy own lack of confidence, my second guessing and self-doubt. My desire to be as good as other artists instead of my desire to express myself.
And in that sense, everything he was saying about my sketchbook was correct. He urged me to get off the iPad as often as possible. To sketch with ink, which is riskier because you canāt erase it, and in that way, give myself no choice but to commit to the lines.
The conversation turned to lighter things after that. Heās apparently an extremely talented basketball player who loves hanging out with his wife and kids. His daughters are both designers. He thinks quirky viral videos are the best thing about the internet. (I agreed.) Heās weak for New York pizza.
Eventually, he bought me a refill for my tea and asked if I would meet him again in a couple of days so he could talk to me about my artwork and help me with my sketching. He even added me as a Facebook friend. When I left the Starbucks to pick up Colin, I was so excited and overwhelmed and grateful to the universe for bringing me into his acquaintance, I texted everyone in my family about it.
But as fate would have it, that night, the local government released its mandate regarding social distancing. Heās likely in Belarus right now with his wife.
I wonāt lie and say Iām not devastated that I lost the chance to be his student for an afternoon. But the impression these coffee shop chats left on me was profound. I think about it all the time. For one who struggles with feeling like the artist version of Pinocchio waiting around for permission to be a real boy, it makes all the difference in the world to linger in the huge, unstoppable energy of someone who lives without an inner critic.
I hope I get to see him again after the quarantine is over. Iād love to see if I can fulfill Ilkerās prophecy and meet back at that Starbucks in two years with a different sketchbook in tow. One that I can hand over knowing without doubt or trepidation that anyone looking for me in the work need look no further than the bold stroke of my hand.
A little girl and her mom came into my gym last year and when I asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, she said āI wanna go to space to see the lizards!ā And wouldnāt elaborate about these space lizards
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