Danger: Cis-Men!
Men are dangerous, y’all — for realz!
Get mad, cis-guys. I don’t care about your egos at the moment. Screw your posturing. I’m talking to cis-men because it is all of you. If you were raised culturally as a man, you are an explosive device ready to go off at the second. It’s also an unstable contraption—this constructed masculinity—as its entire underlying framework and foundation are made out of air. It’s all shell and no substance. That’s not good when you’re fashioning a weapon (and, frankly, that is what we do—we weaponized men). I don’t blame men individually for being scarred by dominant social messaging that castrates emotional intelligence. Men are routinely conditioned to suppress any feeling that isn’t “manly.” We live in a society of fatal levels of misogyny, femme-phobia, and all-around terror of being queer. Unfortunately most of us are a little queer, walking among these land-mines—one of which I came close to detonating.
I’ve talked about the triggering attention I receive, as a trans woman, from cis-men who identify as straight (we gotta come up with a more appropriate term, as that one assumes hetero- as the norm and suggests that any other orientation is crooked). Some of these men know the ropes and Can discuss their sexual preferences plainly. It’s actually a thrill learning the secret language that men who are open to dating trans women use to maintain an affirming space, and kudos to the trans women out their who have been teaching these variety cis-men how to act right.
Other men are really curious and use their swipe right as a chance to encounter a real live trans girl. In many cases, I am the first trans woman a man has approached as a potential sex partner. Lucky for me, I am usually learning that in the first several messages on Tinder. I’ll explicitly ask them if they understand that I am a trans woman? They usually are aware. Then I ask if I am the first trans woman they have dated. The heads up is intended to avoid confusion (danger) later when pants come off and the truth comes out anyway. On one occasion, I’d failed to disclose as intended (people always know, right?). I also failed to check the person’s experience with trans people.
We agreed to meet at a hotel (never my home or theirs). When he arrived he was excited—normal, yet still triggering. He spoke loudly and quickly. He thought he knew more about me than he could possibly have known. I took it for nervous chatter, but as he went on I could see he was struggling. This self-described blue-collar cis-man from an empoverished household, found himself about to embark on a new venture and he was terrified of me. I can’t say how I knew, but I could sense it in the air between us. He was a tight moderate frame, and I was sure I could overpower him if it came to that—and like that I was strategizing how I would escape this man when (not if) he decided to blow. I saw how easily someone, with no intention of violence or harm, but aware of their own violent proclivities, as this person openly disclosed (a disclosure that would’ve been more helpful before making the appointment).
I managed to calm him. He went from being reactive(fight, flight or freeze mode) to being responsive. We agreed that sex was not a good idea and he left. I was fine with that. When a sub called later to come for a quick pickup session, I was not in the mood. I had learned a grave lesson and needed to sit with it. I slept instead. The sleep of the dead. Had I not been trained in mediation and armed with anti-oppression techniques and gifted with healing hands, you might be reading a different story—likely one written by someone else. This time I got off (or, in this case, did not get off) having been warned. I hope it helps someone else avoid the same mistake.
— Notorious Pink
