I publish these posts weeks after I write them. That way, I don’t feel pressure to write something if I don’t want to. Invariably, however, the urge strikes. And so I find myself at my writing table.
Not being a hypocrite, I’m going to lavish on what I want in this post, rather than dwell on what I don’t. I’m going to praise those readers who get what I’m sharing, who have benefited from reading these posts.
But I’m also going to praise those who haven’t got what I share. Including those lambasting that second post as transphobic. I am going to praise those people, because they offer grit, the grain of sand that contributes to the ongoing pearl forming in my personality oyster that unfolds as my daily life.
So in praise of both, I offer this rather brief post.
I’m pretty positive
Over the years of writing this blog, some trans women have pretty much raved about what I share. Those who get it, those primed to benefit from what I write, share their enthusiasm and satisfaction.
Some of those women engaged with me as clients. Others, haven’t, but they have reached out from time to time to share their life progress, progress happening at least partially because of what they’ve read on this blog.
I recall fondly an ongoing three-year conversation with a trans woman in the midwest somewhere, who struggled with men and career. After a couple years of focus, she wound up meeting much better men, and started her own business. One that became successful enough that she hired her mom as an employee.
Many such stories fill my memory. And there are less profound experiences that, while less profound, were no less gratifying to receive.
Recently, in response to my most recent posts (at the time of writing this), I got two examples I really, really appreciate. The first I’m sharing responds to a post I wrote after my post about the trans community helping Trump win. In that post I shared my “origin story.”
A few didn’t respond kindly to that one, but this person’s response resonates with intentions I put into that story:
Yeah. I’m pretty positive. And it seems that bright light I offer warmed the heart of this reader.
Making a difference
The post on Trump really triggered a lot of trans women. Getting triggered is unfortunate because it reveals so much more about the person getting triggered and says nothing about the thing the person is letting trigger them.
So when I got a lot of trans women pissed off about that post and the one about me having sex with a post-op trans woman, I reveled in the knowing I have about people, the Universe and how it all works. I shared some of that knowledge in responses to those people who commented negatively. On the surface what I wrote made little difference: the women just doubled-down on their triggered perspective.
But I know when that happens, such people make a connection with what I share in a powerful way. In that way, they are bound to encounter what they’ve read somewhere else in their life. Perhaps it will come in the form they can more readily digest. So I know while it looks like I made little difference, I actually made a HUGE difference.
And that’s why I’ve written so much on this blog. That and other reasons kept me coming back to my computer every week.
Comments like the one below kept me coming back too. Getting comments like this one cause all the flaming from triggered trans women to pale in comparison. Yep, some people out there get it. And it’s cool when they feel moved enough to share like this:
In praise
When a person gets triggered, the belief confrontation happening in them literally takes them over. They can’t control themselves, which is often why such people resort to name calling and even violence. So when people respond negatively in a comment, it doesn’t mean very much. They’re out of control.
But for a person to share a positive comment, something significant must happen to move them to take the time to comment. Feeling good isn’t enough. A strong resonance between the writer and the reader must happen. In other words, someone taking time to share a positive comment speaks more powerfully than someone firing off a triggered, angry offended rant.
That’s why I so appreciate when I get calls or comments, such as the ones above.
I appreciate the flames too though although sometimes it takes a while. That’s because they cause me to dig deeper into my awareness, the very same awareness that has me write these posts every week.
Maybe you can tell I’m heading somewhere. It’s a destination I expect will fulfill itself in the next two blog posts or so. Until then, I appreciate you, dear reader. Whether you get it or whether you don’t.
TL;DR: The author shares what happened when a trans woman invited them to test drive her new vaginoplasty. What they found and what they recommend may surprise some and confirm others’ opinion about what sex with a post-op trans woman is like.
What it is like to be inside a post-op trans woman’s vagina? What does it feel like? Is the medical miracle comparable to the real thing?
Not long ago, I got answers via an unexpected late-night invitation: a trans woman I know traveled to Thailand for her “bottom surgery”, recovered, and now wanted feedback on her new nether regions. She wanted me to take a test drive.
I was willing, if she was willing to take the feedback (and some other things) for what it was: my honest, unvarnished opinion. It was a hook up, no doubt, not something I do lightly or even frequently. But Jane, let’s call her, is a familiar person and I wanted to help. She’s also smart, kind, politically active, young and pretty. In the least, we’d have good conversation as always. So I jumped in a Lyft and headed to Southeast Portland.
I’m writing this for you guys interested in trans women who may not have had sex yet with one, or maybe have, but with a pre-op trans woman. Or maybe you have had sex with a post-op trans woman. If you have, I’d love to hear your experience.
First, upfront disclosure: I prefer pre-op trans women for obvious reasons. Before you girls start hating, realize this is MY preference. It’s way more than about the plumbing alone and if you don’t like it or understand it, go after what you want rather than railing against me. I know my preference is natural. Yours are too. So go for what you want and leave mine alone. 😊
I didn’t realize Jane had a vagina until after my Lyft had long ago dropped me at my destination and departed towards its next fare. I sat there across from Jane on a tan couch positioned oddly in the center of her apartment, amid boxes, panties, cat litter and other assorted strewables. The place looked like two airlines crashed in her apartment spewing passengers’ private things wall-to-wall. Shit was everywhere…except maybe where it should have been.
Jane offered a good excuse: She’s packing for a cross-town move. Why she thought about getting vaginal feedback now crossed my mind later, long after the test drive. But in the moment…well, let’s just say I was focused on more important things.
The point being, $35 into a $60 round trip Lyft fare, it was too late by the time she told me she had a vagina to decline the offer. Not that I would have had she told me ahead of time.
I’m not a hypocrite, so being where I am in my own development stemming from practicing what I preach at The Transamorous Network, I had no expectations what Jane’s booty call would include. She simply asked “want to come over and have sex with me?” That was it.
I had no idea what Jane had in her pants either. I knew from lengthly conversations that she saw herself “as a woman”. My awareness extended only that far. Besides, I know plenty of trans women who see themselves as women, but have penises.
As I said, Jane also is pretty, smart and fun to be around. So I didn’t mind if nothing happened, if she had a cock or something else. No specifics significantly registered. I only thought it would be nice to see her, sex or no sex.
After acknowledging this was a booty call and with small talk catchup behind us, the night got more…interesting. A fairly rigorous conversation followed about “the act”: her desires, how she liked it, what she was into, etc.
I made sure everything about to happen was consensual, without making it weird, even though I thought about whipping out my iPhone and recording us both acknowledging a consensual pairing.
Most of our pre-foreplay intellectual banter concerned Jane’s preoccupation with my pre-op preference.
Like some trans girls, Jane is hyper-sensitive over men who prefer pre-op trans women. I get that sensitivity. While some men can and probably do get off being objectified — by trans women and others — sometimes for their endowments, their six pack, or money, for example, most trans women I know aren’t too keen on a guy liking them only for what they’re packing.
Some men do objectify pre-op trans women. But most of the men I work with through The Transamorous Network want something more than sex with trans women. They’re rational enough in their desires though to know what they like, and I encourage self-love, honesty and integrity in all my clients.
Desires, I tell them, are to be fulfilled. So long as my clients tell stories consistent with what they want, what they want will fulfill themselves. Same with trans women and their desires. Planet Earth contains enough time and space for everyone’s desire. One needn’t criticize what another wants just because one doesn’t want that.
If a trans woman doesn’t want to be objectified for having a penis, she won’t so long as she tells stories consistent with what she wants (being seen for all she is) instead of what she doesn’t want (being seen only as having a penis).
So trans women: Go get what you want. Leave others to their desires.
By the time we talked through Jane’s triggered story about my preference (which was irrelevant) sex was a foregone conclusion. No one was backing out, neither Jane, nor I, nor my curiosity, nor her feedback desires.
I had never been with a post-op trans woman. This would be an interesting anthropological adventure! What happened next was….
I should also add here that I’ve led a robust sex life, filled with many, many women, some men, trans people (yes, trans men too) and other more advant garde experiences I needn’t share. The point is, I’ve been around body parts. Including LOTS of vaginas.
I also have a fair understanding about how doctors perform the delicate surgical origamic alchemy transmogrifying a penis into a vagina. It’s a medical miracle, frankly, that it functions at all.
I’ve heard second hand from trans women that their artificial vag works just great, so well these coital doppelgängers work, men can’t tell the difference they say.
Yet never had I heard men describe their experience being in one. This was my first-person opening, a slot inviting my entry, so to speak. So, with relish, I took my shirt off. Then my pants…
Looking back I’d say it was what I thought it might be. Our pairing carried a tone more clinical than amorous. Imagine having sex with someone knowing researchers watched through a two-way mirror you knew was a two-way mirror. Or you had sex with a fellow researcher, while each of you remained mostly in clinical mindsets while fucking…
Going with that clinical vibe, here’s what I observed:
As much as a trans woman might say it is, it isn’t. Once inside, even with lube, it felt like a crevice designed with no thought as to the shape of a penis. It felt as though someone opened a hole in a body, but didn’t bother to contour it in a way to make it vaginal-like.
Unlike a vagina, no fleshy folds awaited inside to coddle me to orgasm. Instead it felt like rubbing against exactly what it was: epidermis. Not only was it too shallow and thus most unwelcoming for my length, it also featured insufficient diameter. Even with lube it felt the whole affair would rip my penis skin off, like the skin of a grape, were any intensity applied.
As we both undulated ourselves while in the act, I felt an uncomfortable hardness. No, it wasn’t my erect penis, rather it was a bone… I mused as to whether that was Jane’s pelvic bone, which made being inside her an uncomfortable experience in addition to feeling near flayed.
Also unlike a vagina, there appeared to be two bulbous, fleshy forms just above and inside the “vaginal” canal, only slightly protruding, like a tiny prolapsed anus. It felt exactly like a little penis peeking out of a cave. When Jane came, I felt ejaculate shoot from between those fleshy forms, much like ejaculate from an erect penis.
Speaking of penises, somewhere in my pelvis lies a muscle. When flexed, my erect penis, rises and falls without manual assistance. I don’t know whether a vaginoplasty, the medical term for “turning a penis into a vagina”, includes dismantling that muscle.
In Jane’s case, whenever she moved her hips as though to thrust, I felt the two fleshy forms aforementioned move…not vaginal like, but like a penis. That movement and the discharge gave me the distinct impression that, despite its transformation, and no matter how emasculated it may have become, a penis was, in fact, still present and accounted for, but now literally hood-winked into appearing as a vagina.
Finding my way around the vaginal exterior confounded me as well. It resembled no vagina I’m familiar with. I couldn’t find the clear and pleasantly erect, welcoming clitoris typically shrouded in its fleshy hood near the vaginal apex, even when Jane insisted it was there and vigorously played herself to orgasm.
Despite our mutual arousal the whole time, the experience was less than satisfactory.
I shared my thoughts in detail with Jane afterwards in candid, no uncertain terms. Not surprisingly, she took it in stride, listened intently while taking mental notes. She thanked me for the honesty and said other men she’s been with said it was just like a vagina. I don’t know these men, so I can’t speculate at all about their prior experiences. I only speak from mine.
I know trans women don’t get vaginoplasty, vulvoplasty, SRS, or “bottom surgery” – whatever you want to call it – for the pleasure and satisfaction of the men. I presume the main reason some (not all) trans women go to such lengths is so their exterior decor matches their interior identity blueprint. They want to look how they feel…to them, most of all. They want to look in the mirror and see only that which matches how they feel. Many feel strong rejection of their penis.
I get that.
My opinion and experience therefore doesn’t matter as far as trans women go. If a trans woman wants such a procedure, I say whatever makes you happy. Maybe somewhere on the list for such women, a future partner’s experience counts. Maybe not.
Still, the following might be helpful.
One of my former clients, a senior medical professional who runs a major health organization, is familiar with vaginoplasty and vulvoplasty procedures. When I described my experience my client said my observations were “clinically and anatomically spot on”.
“It’s extremely difficult,” my client said. “To create something where there is nothing. Most literature in the field says results are marginal and often dissatisfying” in both form and function. He continued by saying invariably partners don’t experience satisfaction with such procedures and that it is routine that subjects return for repeated modifications.
“This is a major procedure and in my opinion not worth the risk and expense because once done, no matter how unsatisfied, it can’t be reversed. And at this point, the results are not satisfactory,” He added.
We both agreed over the reasons, the stories, which drive some trans women to seek a visage matching their ideals. So my client says such trans women should seek the most capable provider possible, with no concern for expense, so they are happy with the outcome. Even then, he says, they may have unsatisfactory results.
I have a hard time believing guys, especially those with ample vaginal experience, would find such a surrogate satisfactory, let alone pleasurable. My client, with medical experience agrees: “Any man who has had sex with cis-women will know right away what they’ve entered is not a vagina.”
I asked him whether there are skeletal differences between men and women in the pelvic area, explaining my experience with what I thought was Jane’s pelvic bone.
“Indeed,” He said. “The female pelvic arch, where the genitals are, is wider and higher than the male pelvis. So it’s highly likely you were grinding against her “male” pelvic bone while trying to find the right angle inside her “vagina”.”
The subpubic angle is the angle produced by the inferior rami of the pubis, which creates the pubic arch. In women, the subpubic angle will generally be equal to or greater than 80 degrees (obtuse), which is similar to the shape of the letter “L”. In men, the pubic arch is narrower, creating a subpubic angle that is usually less than or equal to 70 degrees (acute), making it a similar angle to an upside down “V.”
That upside down V was exactly what I bumped up against. Here, look at this drawing for clarification, which also comes form registerednursern.com.
Take note of differences in pelvic arch location and shape between a male pelvis (left) and female pelvis (right). The male pelvis arch is lower AND far more narrower, meaning, you’re going to hit it while fucking. Especially during missionary style. Photo: registerednursern.com.
“We’re just not at the point where that kind of surgery can produce convincing results,” My client said. “And it’s highly unlikely we’ll be able to create from scratch a faithful replica to what it feels like entering a vagina.”
I remember one day, decades ago, accepting a quite young trans man’s invitation to hook up, before Craigslist kiboshed its personals section. When I arrived at a St.Johns apartment, a beautiful, pierced young person with a full face of stubble welcomed me. When he took off his clothes, he had had not a stitch of surgery. Everything “girl” remained untouched. Beauty rivaling Venus stood before me. Venus with a beard and short hair.
As I feast my young eyes upon them, pang of sorrow accompanied my awe. I knew some day this guy would likely go under the knife, irreparably altering what I experienced as a perfect human specimen.
And yet, beauty IS in each beholder’s eye. What must be done must be.
I’m glad I had this experience with Jane, even though what she has holds no candle to a natural vagina. Not in my opinion anyway. Guys: Whatever you call it, this procedure has a long way to go. Natural vaginas, as yet, have no rivals. If a vagina is what you want, stick to cis-women.
I know my experience is but one data point, with a doctor’s endorsement of sorts. Still, I hope what I experienced was not state of the art. If so, it’s not worth the money in my opinion, and the state of the art is…disappointing.
I’m glad I prefer, and get the opportunity to enjoy, penis-equipped women, who are, like me, happy with what they have. If you like what I like, I assure you there are at least as many women out there who want to keep their penis, as there are numbers of us willing to go to bed with and love out loud penis-equipped women. Go for what you want.
Don’t worry about people condemning your preference. Your preference isn’t theirs so their opinion doesn’t matter. Let no one talk you into compromising. Especially rants from trans women. They don’t know you. They aren’t you. You are you, be that.
And for those girls who feel they must get bottom surgery: you go for what you want too. But please don’t let impatience or economics lead you towards regret. What I’ve found is the doppelgänger turned out to be a poorly-conceived and executed facsimile. My advice for men again: if you want a vagina-equipped woman, the cis-variety is the best bet.
TL;DR: This is a guest story written by Kari and published with her permission. Kari shares a story in which she revolutionized a lot of feelings about her body, including feelings about her penis. Along the way, she realized many toxic beliefs she – and many trans women – hold. She then encouragesa reaching for greater, more empowering freedom.
I recently found myself at the intersection of two converging trajectories or evolutions and while I can see the outcome approaching fast, I don’t know how I feel about it.
Hold onto your butts, we’re going in….
The first evolution was my discovery of dresses last summer.
I had bought a few dresses over the five years I have been out, but never really worn them. Until last summer, that is.
Some of these dresses were sleeveless and that’s where the problem first appeared.
Comfort in my skin
I had spent the first part of summer wearing short sleeve shirts and the result was a set of very pasty shoulders and tanned forearms.
I looked like a farmer…in a bad way:
You say Farmer Tan, I say Ombré Skin Art
So this summer I decided to even out that tan by spending a few minutes each day in the sun in my bikini. The road to degeneracy is, however, paved with good intentions. Changing into a bikini and then back into clothes mid morning started becoming tiresome. So I started just stripping down to my panties and lying in the sun on our private balcony. This resulted in a nice light tan across my entire body except my butt which was extremely pale.
And that’s how I ended up naked, on the balcony in the sun, daily.
This naked sunbathing made me consider my body and how I felt about myself. The act of slowing down and being quiet outside did make me think that naturists are on to something and I am way more comfortable with myself now.
Ladies, if you ever feel unattractive, spend 15 minutes on your back and 15 minutes on your tummy in the sun daily. By the end of summer you will be more comfortable in your skin. There is just something about having sunshine and a light breeze on your naked skin that improves your confidence. At least it did for me.
And next summer I may join a naturist group.
Okay, so I hope y’all into TMI, because we are about to overshare.
“My filly blunt”
The other evolution is a little complicated. Transition is a slow evolutionary process. During this summer, perhaps triggered in part by my nude sunbathing or other factors, my sexuality, or rather my sexual expression, started to surface again.
Let me explain.
When switching your governing hormone your sexuality does some strange stuff. Since starting HRT my entire understanding of my own sexuality and how I express it has been completely rewritten. There was a period, shortly after I started HRT, where I almost completely lost interest in anything sexual. Then about two years ago a slow process of re-emergence started.
Slowly the lights have been coming on again so to speak.
When this happened I noted a shift in who I was attracted to, how I was attracted to them and how I thought about and experienced sex.
I also started to engage with my sexuality and its expression in new ways. An example of this is that I now find pleasure in erotic images of myself. I enjoy sharing erotic but tasteful artistic pictures with my partner. To be blunt, I started sending artsy dick-pics to my partner.
Censorship is the antithesis of free speech and must be resisted in all its manifold forms, specifically this form that deprives the viewer of the majestic image that has been redacted.
Oh and if you’re wondering, judging by the response, dick-pics are just one more thing women just do better than men.
Okay, enough waffling about sunbathing and erotic art, this isn’t an art blog or a sunlight therapy woo page on Facebook. This is a transsexual blog and I know you’re here for the same reasons Republicans and Gender Criticals go to Pornhub.
You’re here for the girl-dick.
So let’s talk about this filly’s blunt.
Exploring my nudity
I can’t speak for men but judging by the quality of the examples of the masculine dick-pics I have seen, men don’t think about their genitals in the same way women do. I think for men a picture of their genitals is a visual cv for their sexual qualities.
They are functional images. Its this big, its this long and its shaped in this manner which will have this effect on you when I use it in these ways. Lighting, context, focus and composition are all lost in the singular pursuit of graphic exposure. The male dick-pic is the construction drawing of nude art.
Before transition I didn’t understand the dick-pic. I assumed it was a matter of dysphoria. Showing nudes of myself that featured my penis just felt uncomfortable and ugly.
I hated it.
However, this summer I decided to explore the art of nude self portraits. I had seen a particular content creator on Instagram who specifically makes erotic self portraits via photography and I like her stuff, so I decided to try it myself.
Over the last few months, whenever I have been inspired, I have taken photos of myself in various states of undress.
“Proudly displaying their junk”
One of the things I noted very quickly was that I didn’t have that alien feeling when genitals were visibly in the images, either explicitly or implied by “the bulge”. In fact, I started to see the beauty in these photos. I didn’t see a person struggling with discordant genitals or pathetically resigned to the misery of not being able to do anything about her penis.
I legitimately saw a naked woman with a beautiful dick.
Of course the question that raised itself to me was, did I find this girl-dick beautiful because its mine and attached to me or was it all girl-dicks that had suddenly become beautiful?
My questions led me to the Trans-HiveMind.
I went back to Tumblr.
And on Tumblr I found a lot of girl-dick.
I found trans women proudly displaying their junk and trans women not so proudly displaying their junk with captions asking “would you still date me if you knew about my dick?”
Looking at these images I noted the “would you date a trans woman” posts are as tragic as those Only Fans Milfs on Insta who aim their content at middle-aged dude’s crotches.
Ladies, men don’t need begging.
Why the Fuck do we Tuck?
The posts made by trans women who are clearly comfortable with their genitals on the other hand are beautiful. In fact they are as beautiful as images of women with vaginas.
However, this is not an article to sing the praises of and promote the beauty of girl-dick.
I have far more sinister motives than that and we already know girl-dick is gorgeous.
What I am saying is girl-dick is no less desirable or beautiful or feminine than girl-vagina and when we accept this simple truth, we must ask: Why the Fuck do we Tuck?
We don’t tuck because our genitals are ugly.
We don’t tuck because it’s comfortable.
We don’t even tuck because we suffer dysphoria.
Rock it unapologetically
We tuck because we have been told by heteronormative society that women have vaginas and if your crotch isn’t a smooth, flat front then you are a man.
We have internalized the idea that we cannot be beautiful women when we have a little extra in our undies. We believe men see us, trans women, as second class because we don’t have a genital configuration that ignorance and regressive societal rules have mandated as the gold standard.
Today’s gaff is, for trans women, no different from last century’s whale boned corset for cis women. We don’t need to squeeze our organs into new positions and uncomfortable contortions to be beautiful. We don’t have to mould ourselves to the society’s regressive ideas to be beautiful.
We simply need to rock that bulge unapologetically and one day, society will catch up.
One day, a trans woman is going to walk down the catwalk at Paris Fashion week untucked and no one is going to bat an eye about the girl-dick.
Well, maybe I do know how I feel about the outcome of that intersection now.
I’m constantly on edge in my relationship with Muriel. That’s because I never know when she’s going to blow my mind.
That’s what happened this morning while chatting with her online. We talked about having sex with trans women. As our conversations usually do, this one got deep, quick.
Balls deep.
Specifically, we talked about the ins and outs of anal sex. No pun intended.
Some transgender clients express slight frustration with particulars of that sex style. After all, vaginal sex doesn’t require preparations necessary for good, clean anal. So some of my trans clients have less interest in sex at frequencies compatible with what they believe men will want.
Men will want sex more often than my clients, they say. Because of that, my clients fear they won’t be able to satisfy their men. It requires too much preparation. Other clients express lack of sexual interest due to HRT medication. That too, they fear will cause dissatisfaction in their partners.
Sorry, I don’t have a vagina.
As my GF and I talked about this, she went off. She shared a perspective I wasn’t prepared for. A perspective offering a no BS take on what anal is really about, what it offers and what it doesn’t. She also waxed poetically on a problem she thinks many trans women have:
I wonder how many trans women look at their sexual parts this way. Help me out: do you think you offer a substandard alternative to vaginal sex? Are you also thinking their partners won’t want anal as an alternative?
Muriel obviously has thought this over. Perhaps it’s something every trans woman must come to grips with. Muriel has come to a great place on it:
I think she has a point about trans women seeing themselves as second class. Second class to cis women. AND second class in terms of what they offer male partners sexually.
But there are plenty of men who enjoy anal sex. And, just to be clear, there are plenty of cis-women who enjoy anal over vaginal sex too. I even dated one some time ago. She LOVED getting it in the ass!
Meanwhile, as we all know, anal sex comes with poop. Trying to clean all that out prior to sex does offer logistics that can put the kibosh on spontaneity. It doesn’t have to though. Nor does the butt need to play second fiddle to the vagina. For women without a vagina, the “anal isn’t an alternative to vagina” must be unraveled. It’s not an alternative. It’s something altogether different.
No apologies
And this is where self affirmation comes in. Self affirmation means finding worthiness in who we are as we are. Self validation is another word for it. It’s the opposite of “outside validation”, which I argue a lot of trans women have trouble with.
So do trans-attracted men, btw.
After all, trans-attracted men on the DL are on the DL because they fear others’ opinions of their desires. In other words, they validate their desires and selfhood based on what others think about those things. Some trans women do the same thing. And that’s why both DL men and some trans women find one another. They are perfect matches.
Muriel isn’t about any of that. She’s not about apologizing for what she is. I love that. That and her humor:
It’s not about the sex
Obviously the choice to have a vagina or not has more to do with identity than where one wants a dick. Many (most?) trans women who opt for a vagina do so because it completes them. Sex may be a secondary consideration. Or, maybe, sex doesn’t even figure in.
So trans women who want a vagina needn’t be triggered by this story. It’s really not about them. This story is really not about sex either. It’s about my GF opinions. Opinions I find endearing.
I shared these opinions with a trans-attracted client of mine. His response: “I love the confidence expressed in these texts” he said.
I agree.
Muriel’s confidence is so attractive. So is her self awareness. I can see how cleaning up my own stories about myself, my transamory and about trans women have made me a match to her. For that, I’m grateful for what I’ve done.
I think Muriel is too.
PS — Did you like that pun in the headline? If so, drop me a message. I thought it was perfect.
Editor’s note: This post published earlier this past summer. However, a kerfuffle developed around it. So we unpublished the post. We’re re-posting it now, having changed it given input from our readers and from the Medium.com legal department.Read about that kerfuffle this post triggered here.
Some transgender women act in ways that tarnish the entire community. These women do things that make life hard for everyone involved. Of course, some trans-attracted men do the same. They make it hard for all the other trans-attracted men.
But this post isn’t about the men. It’s about one specific woman. Her, and a mystery we solved last year with the help of a trans-attracted guy. What I find highly gratifying about this is how it happened perfectly demonstrates how “stories create reality” works 100 percent of the time.
For when I first heard what this person was doing, I didn’t complain about it. Rather I was fascinated by it. I wrote a blog to warn men about her. Then I privately told the story that the Universe would show me who this person was.
I wrote that post two years ago. Last summer, the Universe gave me what I wanted. Here’s how that happened.
A familiar MO
A trans-attracted guy wrote me on Instagram out of the blue. He was in the middle of divorcing his wife. While separated he tried dating this person. Things went awry, as they usually do when people don’t have their stories straight. Then, in retaliation, this trans woman outed the guy to his wife.
The wife then used the guy’s trans-attraction in court to wrest sole custody of their kids. She then called me in a tizzy about her ex being trans-attracted and how her life has been destroyed…
That’s another story.
But the guy’s experience felt super-familiar. That’s because not long before this, I received a similar story from a midwestern father who received a similar letter about his son.
So when the Instagram guy wrote me, it seemed auspicious. I’m keeping his name out of this at his request. He doesn’t want anymore drama.
The guy who helped me solve the mystery telling his story.The guy explaining what happened.
Apparently then, this trans woman seeks men via online dating apps. When things go bad for her (because her stories match her with men matching her stories) she outs the men to wives, friends and families. And she includes our contact information.
Such actions are highly inappropriate. It’s like when people in the 80s and 90s outed gay men against their will. You’d think this woman would know better as there are many transgender women who face similar situations.
The guy who wrote me gave me her telephone number. He didn’t remember her name. But the number was enough. With it I was able to identify her. I sent the guy some pics and he confirmed the person in the pics was the girl.
Trans-vigilante: REVEALED
Her name is Úmi. If you meet a woman with that name, you might want to avoid her.
Of course men who met her and then ended up on the receiving end of her ire created that rendezvous too. They are not victims. Neither is the guy who helped me. Everyone is responsible for what they create.
But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t help men avoid unnecessary complications on their Chaser to Transamorous journey. So guys: consider this your second warning.
This person destroyed two families and drove at least one woman (that I know of) to the brink of suicide. This is a serious matter.
If you sympathize with what Úmi has been doing because you think men deserve this, you might want to consider how it felt the last time you were on the receiving end of attention you didn’t want or abuse you felt undeserved. While everyone creates their reality, some of us with the ability to help others have the option to do so. That’s one reason why I started this blog and work with clients both trans and trans-attracted.
On that note, I must acknowledge this person was very briefly a Transamorous Network client. She did not reveal her behavior to me in the very few, preliminary sessions we had. I reached out to her several times prior to publishing this post. She did not respond to my requests.
And to be clear, should I discover men acting egregiously as this person has, I would share that information too.
A desire to serve and enjoying proof
I don’t know if she still behaves this way. She’s beautiful and, like all people, can get what she wants. I know (because all people are this way) a loving heart and compassionate spirit exists within her. Acting from rage or disempowerment isn’t helpful. It’s clear she realizes she could benefit from help. She just needs to clean up her stories, then she’ll be closer to getting what she wants.
Before she knows it, she can enjoy love from men, instead of matching up with men who trigger her ire. After all, they are only reflecting that ire back to her, reflecting her inner state of self-loathing and insecurity.
Meanwhile, I’m stoked with what happened. The Universe answers all desires. I’m glad this turned out the way it did. I got what I wanted.
I wanted to know who was using The Transamorous Network’s brand in a way that was causing unnecessary harm. In asking, the Universe gave that to me. It’s just one more example proving this practice works.
Our stories create all our experiences. Change our stories and our experiences change. Anything we ask for can be our experience. It takes some time though. This experience stretched over a couple years.
Thank goodness we’re all eternal. Because of that what’s a couple years in the context of eternity? It’s literally less than a blink of an eye.
I love it when what I share with clients gets confirmed in my own life. It’s icing to see it confirmed in my client’s lives too. And I’m appreciative the guy reached out to me the way he did. It was a perfect manifestation of my desire to know who this trans woman was.
