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The Real Reason People Want To Burn Down The Bop House
OnlyFans model Sophie Rain became a topic of conversation when it was revealed that she made $43,000,000 in the first year of opening her account. Her success started a debate online about normalizing sex work to very young women as Rain is currently 20 years old, but for many people, appears to be underage. Many of the women I follow who speak out about sexism were drawn to this story as it seems to highlight men’s desire for very young women. A desire that has historically resulted in the abuse of women and girls that is maintained beneath the patriarchy. Rain took her earnings and decided to open up the “Bop House”, the first OnlyFans content creator house. Taking a page from the Youtube content creator house, The Hype House, these Gen Z sex workers live together, work together and use each other’s platforms to cross promote. They predominately promote their content through apps like Tiktok and Instagram where the Bop House has gained a large following; some of it underage. They participate in many trends, and even create their own. In one trend they created, they put out an open call for auditions and of course some of the girls who answered were underage. Right now, the highest requested new member of the Bop House is a 17 year old blogger named Piper Rockelle. Rockelle is no stranger to content homes. She, along with her mother, started a teenage content home called “The Squad” in 2020 that would dissolve after her mother, Tiffany Smith was accused of pressuring the female members of the house to be more sexual, wear tighter clothes and placate to a male gaze. While she made those comments about the girls in the home, she also made a slew of sexually inappropriate comments towards some of the boys. Today, Tiffany Smith runs Piper Rockelle’s Brand Army account; which, similarly to OnlyFans, offers members access to exclusive pictures and videos for a small subscription fee. Based on the comments some other content creators were able to find on her Brand Army account, it’s clear that Piper Rockelle’s content, while not overtly explicit, is catering to an audience that wants to pleasure themselves to images of underage girls. And unfortunately, this is a growing trend among content creators who start as child bloggers. Piper Rockelle would appear in several social media videos with members of the Bop House, even a video “welcoming” her into the content house; to which they claim to have meant the physical home, not sex work.
Listening to these young women respond to criticism around their actions, it becomes pretty clear that their brains are still developing. There are judgement calls that they’ve made hastily, and of course that calls into question whether or not these young women are able to truly make these decisions with a full understanding of their consequences. The Bop House has been the source of much debate, especially as other content houses inspired by them start to appear. A content house full of tattooed and edgy models called “The Alt Bop House” has invigorated a conversation about fetishizing alternative women, with many saying that sex work is the antithesis to what they call “alternative principles”. As a goth who is a former sex worker, I have a lot of things to say about many aspects of this and I had a very interesting experience that touched at the heart of this issue while I was working on my script for my Youtube channel.

When I was 19 years old, I was scouted by a porn company. In 2009, I was in my first few years of college, my family had stopped financially supporting me and I was at the very start of my hormonal transition. Living in Valencia, at the time, it was very hard for me to find normative work. Especially being one of the few black people, and one of the few trans people in the area. It was virtually impossible for me to find employment and legalized protections for trans people wouldn’t exist until 2010. So when this scout from a porn company approached me at a sex party, it was a proposition I considered.
At the time, this very successful transgender porn company was running a full service porn studio, an online portal for web camming and a night at a strip club. I knew a girl who worked at the club and I’ve always loved to dance, so I considered it… but then I became mortified about anyone seeing me, so I opted for the cam girl thing instead. I’m pointing out my logic here because back in that time, it was pretty feasible that you could be a cam girl and be relatively unknown, where as it was very hard to be a successful dancer and also be unknown. Most of the dancers were also either working for the cam studio or in the porn studio and their dance sets were really just a way to meet and greet their fans and potentially new customers. Back then, I had a lot of fear around my parents finding out and I didn’t want anyone to know I did porn so cam girl felt like a good choice.
I feel like I need to draw attention to the fact that at 19, I wasn’t doing well. I had been in the full swing of my hypersexuality because of sexual violence phase and I first gained the attention of the scout through my pictures that I’d post of myself on social media. Often times, my pictures were suggestive or flirty. I wanted to be seen as sexy, really, before I had a good sense of my own sexuality. As a teenager, I had an awareness of men’s attraction to me, but I didn’t necessarily understand what it was supposed to be for me. My hypersexuality was set off by being drugged and assaulted by this artist I was working with when I was 15. I was focused on making money so that I could move out of my parents house and finally be myself, so I found this guy online who gave me a job in his studio. Then he raped me and because I needed money, I kept coming back. My groomer also gave me the perfect space to be myself and be creative. It just came at a cost. After that, I’d try my best to repeat these experiences but do so in a way that made me feel empowered and that’s how I got to sex parties where in retrospect, I was abused much more, but felt it was empowering. Some perv took me to my first party the week I turned 18, and for a while, I’d say that I was servicing these parties, almost as if I was an employee. This is the mindset that allowed sex work to feel like not that big of a deal.
Back then, if you wanted to get into sex work, you really only had the option to do so through a larger company. They controlled distribution and had the large platforms to promote models and you would have to hustle way more and have way more resources to be able to do it independently. What this meant was that our income was often split between both the platform and the company I was working under. I remember thinking that being a cam girl would be easy, but I figured out pretty quickly that sex work is work.
In many ways, sex work is all about selling a fantasy. In my actual life, I’m a femme bottom who is completely submissive. But when you have a body like mine, it’s harder to sell that fantasy. These men wanted me to perform a type of dominance and aggression that I do not really have. The audience doesn’t really want who you really are, they want a fantasy that suits your appearance. That draws them in, but if you want to get them to stay, you have to change it up. You change your hair, your body, your aesthetic, your vibe to draw in new customers and to keep your existing ones who may have tastes that shift. You have to think about marketing yourself in a way that you probably don’t actually want to. And while I was doing this, the porn company was making most of the money. I’m not proud to say that in my short 3 month stint as a cam girl, I made under a thousand dollars. Which was more than I had before, but at this point in my life, I really recognize how much I was getting screwed because I make that in a much shorter period of time in a way that I don’t feel exploited. I didn’t like being a cam girl. I’d go as far as to say that I hated it and it kinda ruined my sexuality for a bit; and I’m only really just now starting to feel like I have an accurate relationship with my sexuality. However, apparently I still have that sex worker stink on me.
After doing cam work, I got out of sex work, but would continue doing a lot of sex work-like things. I relied very heavily on men because they had the money. I would sabotage aspects of my education to spend time with a man because he had money and wanted to take care of me. I got hurt a lot before I graduated college and eventually fell in love and desperately wanted to put all of that behind me.
My ex almost dumped me when he found out that I was a cam girl in my past. He had exes who were sex workers and he didn’t have a fond opinion of them. I remember feeling like I was better than other trans women because I no longer had to do sex work; to the point were I’d deny that I ever did it. He picked me, and I was special because I was better than a sex worker. But there was a shift in our relationship as I started to become mores successful as a content creator. Eventually, I started making more money than him and started paying all of our rent. As I matured, he purchased more Funkos, smoked more weed and would bring home plates of his mother’s Lasagna after I’d slaved over a stove while he was at work. He started to feel undermined by me because I no longer needed him. Because I started making enough money to no longer need his permission or guidance. I remember finally getting to a place of financial comfort and many of the ways that I relied on men, I was very relieved to not “have” to do anymore. Looking back, I overlooked a lot of abusive behavior from men because they had money and were attracted to me enough to want to support me. As I type this, I’m giggling at the previous version of myself that wanted to be a house wife. I’m glad I out grew that. I’m glad I never married that guy.
Moving to LA, it struck me almost immediately that men had a certain response to me having money. Up to this point, I had lived in conservative communities for most of my life. I was stealth before moving to LA and if I’m being honest, I had a hard time adjusting to the more liberal environment. In the OC, it was a bit more socially acceptable for me to kinda expect for men to pay my way, and I’d honestly became kinda used to that. But in LA, I wanted to be empowered. There were many times when I’d go out on a date with a man and when the check came, I’d grab my card and naturally want to pay my portion; I was proud to do so. And there were men who’d flinch at me for doing so. To many of them, it was an affront to their masculinity that I not only wanted to pay, but was able to pay. Most of the time I’d pay my portion, those relationships ended. In the OC, whenever I’d be out by myself, the men around me would ask me where my children were or if I had a husband. It was as if they expected for women to only exist in relation to men, who of course have the money in the relationship. I was a bit younger back then, but I could tell that there were men that were kinda disturbed by this reality of me being able to do these things for myself. Sure, men in LA are a bit more overtly liberal, but I find that a lot of men struggle to be with women who make more than them, because they rely on their finances to command power in their relationships. That’s also why so many red pilled men shame women for wanting to date men who are financially secure.
These days, I live relatively comfortably, by myself in a cute little apartment in Hollywood. While I have my partners who do indeed do a lot for me, I do not rely on them financially. I don’t do a bit of handy work around my home, but I don’t really rely on them for anything other than companionship and the time we spend on this rock together. Plainly put, I do not need men and have not needed men in a very long time. My job as a content creator is one that has become lucrative enough for me to be comfortable. I work hard, I don’t exploit myself in the way I once did, and I’m very proud of myself for it. Sex work was a way I pulled myself up, but now it feels like a footnote. Nothing at all comes up when I look up my old stage name and the evidence of my sex work has evaporated as websites got updated and the online atmosphere for sex workers changed. But still, like I said, even after a lot has changed, apparently I’ve got that sex worker stink on me.

I go to the Goth club every Wednesday night. It’s basically my religion at this point. I go there, I see my friends, I catch up with them, I commune with them. I feel very at home in the Goth community. My ex fetishized alternative women, but would shame me a lot for my alternative aesthetic when we first started dating so I was slowly weened out of it. It’s been nice to marinate in LA for a while now and really find myself again.
After the club, I usually go to an after hours. I wouldn’t suggest this, but it is certainly a thing I’ve taken to. I don’t do coke and I’m not looking to fuck, I’m just an insomniac who really enjoys meeting people. I was sheltered for so long in the OC that I’m honestly still adjusting to how interesting people are in LA. Not that there weren’t interesting people in the OC; they were just playing a particular role. in the OC, you only really found out who people were when they had a bit of liquor in them and were around friends. People are more out there in LA and I kinda like that.
The after hours I go to is in this small little house off the boulevard. Tucked away in a quiet little corner. It’s run by a former gang member who I will often see on the boulevard; a nice guy who’s really all about his business. The space isn’t large, but there are several stages for girls who want to dance. I know the guy who runs the girls who dance there; also a nice guy from what I can tell; you never really know. Men come to this little house to meet people, to socialize and yeah, sometimes to pay for dances. Sometimes we have to clear out of a section of the club so that the girls can give special dances to the men who have the funds for them. Perhaps this seems like a strange environment for me to be in, but of the after hours I’ve gone to, this is the one that feels the most chill. Every after hours is going to have a presence of drugs and sex work. They just go hand in hand and late at night, after the bars close, there’s a demand for both.
Every time I go to this after hours, I end up meeting this guy. He’s a handsome man with a darker complexion, and a very pleasant speaking voice. I think we both registered that we do public speaking and so when we have interacted with each other, we end up having some surprisingly articulate conversations and verbal sparring matches. Perhaps this is the trauma, but I kinda like being able to argue with men, especially when I know they’re attracted to me. There’s something really sweet about being able to twist a conversation a certain way because you know the person wants you. And this guy has always been very clear about wanting me, even as I relented.
This is an older guy and I think perhaps for that reason, he has always had a very hard time wrapping his mind around what I do for a living, and he also had a hard time understanding my polyamory. So we often get into these debates about these things where he essentially reveals that he doesn’t really believe me. He doesn’t believe that I have multiple partners who care about me and he doesn’t believe that I have been able to pay my rent and more from my earnings as a content creator. The way he responds to me is as if he believed that I was saying these things to simply cope. Keep in mind, he’s doing copious amounts of cocaine most of the time we are speaking and I’m usually drinking a white claw because to me they’re somewhere between a drink and a glass of water. But still, he did entertain me and I was attracted to him. I’ve accepted long ago that more people do coke than I recognized and while I think its a stupid drug, I don’t really judge people for doing it, just abusing it.
I’ve known this guy for a while now so when he begged to go back to my place for a drink, I unfortunately entertained the idea. Maybe just because I wanted to go home. So we went back to my place and he navigated through the artistic clutter in my apartment to my kitchen where he rummaged through my bar, found the most expensive bottle of liquor and poured himself a large drink that he did not want to finish. This really annoyed me and then he asked me another annoying question as he looked around my apartment, which I will admit is a bit nicer than your average apartment in LA. He asked me how much I paid in rent and I didn’t really want to answer this question, but as I thought of a tactful way to respond, I blurted out
“Unless you plan on paying my rent, I don’t really think I need to tell you how much I pay”
He stumbles into my kitchen to find himself a plate that he could use to snort drugs off of and I get into my bed, defensively, under my covers. I really regret inviting this man into my house, but we carry on our conversation. I start trying to talk to him about what I’m working on as he looks around my apartment fascinated by the corners of unfinished art projects and my filming set up. I tell him that I’m working on a piece about this only fans creator home and the conversation quickly derails into a question I’ve now become kinda used to hearing”
“Are you on Only Fans?”
Whenever I tell people that I’m an online content creator and they meet me in a goth club where my tits are typically hoisted up to my chin, they often assume I’m using a euphemism about sex work. I suppose it’s true that many of the women I know at the club also have only fans; which is part of why the criticism of the Alt Bop house is so strange to me. Sex workers are a huge part of the goth community and many of the commodified aspects of alternative culture are directly inspired by the presence of BDSM fashion in these spaces. Most of these things are associated with each other because the Goth scene is one full of misfits and weirdos and those on the margins. Naturally, many sex workers feel embraced there. While it is indeed frustrating that many men see alternative women and fetishize them, it’s silly to ignore the sex worker presence in the goth scene; and to be fair, it hasn’t just been men who’ve assumed that I was a sex worker.
What bothered me though is that this man has had many conversations with me about my job, he’s even met some of my fans who occasionally end up at the after hours. However, he still believed that once he got me alone, I’d somehow reveal that I was indeed a sex worker and that all the things I have did not come from my hard work, but from a man. He started to ask me if I had ever been behind on rent; and I’m very happy to report that I’ve never managed to struggle in that way. We never returned to our friendly banter about my latest project. Instead, he propositioned me.
I will not get into the details of what he offered, but he wanted to establish a relationship with me where he comes over to my place every day and I service his very taboo fetish. In exchange, he’ll pay all of my rent and then some…and what he was asking for, while strange, wasn’t something I necessarily minded doing…but daily?? For some reason that really stood out to me.
Because I tend to socialize in after hours like I’m observing people’s personalities, I hadn’t really fully calculated some of the aspects of our interactions. During our conversation, he as begging me to show him my Youtube channel, and the thing is, I already have. I showed it to him and one of the first things he said about my channel, which isn’t about my appearance, was that he didn’t like my nails being as long as they were and that he preferred me with more natural makeup. I dismissed it at the time, but as he sits at the foot of my bed, using my sewing table as a platform for him to snort drugs from, I finally started to get a fuller picture.
When you’ve been liberated from men’s financial control for so long, you can forget how it works. You can forget that when men feel like they can control you through finances, that they also believe they can control everything about you. Seeing him every day and doing what he wanted me to do everyday, would have worn away at my spirit. Sure, I’d get my rent paid, but now this man has control over me every single day. I couldn’t share what I shared with him, with anyone else if I was in this agreement with him. It started to register to me that this man was actually frustrated with the fact that I wasn’t in a position where I was struggling so much that I’d entertain his offer. There were much sadder, much more dejected times in my life where I’d probably jump at the chance, but now? I’m not remotely close to needing it and I can tell that many men do not like that.
I can understand why many people take issue with the Bop House specifically, I also feel that much of the criticism is done without an understanding of how the industry has changed. When I did sex work, it was during an era where porn producers and pimps relied on the desperation of the young, often abused women who came to them looking for a way to do sex work lucratively. These companies and these pimps felt like the safest way to do sex work and many women were abused. Many sex workers still are, but OnlyFans has indeed, changed the game for many sex workers.
These days, if I wanted to be a cam girl, I could easily make my own account on a website like Chaturbate and start earning income without the help of a porn company. I’d still have to split my income a bit, but I could control my content. I could own it and I could produce it all myself. Expensive studios and cameras have been replaced with smart phones on tripods. OnlyFans models can simply upload their content and advertise it to people around the world very easily through twitter and now apps like Instagram and Tiktok. The reason why the Bop House is on these apps to begin with has to do with FOSTA SESTA laws which have made it so that sex workers can’t communicate their services through the platforms they were once able to. These laws were made to prevent human trafficking, but in all reality, they prevent of-age sex workers from using the promotional platforms they’ve been using. For many sex workers, these laws have pushed them offline back onto the streets and back underneath the thumb of exploitative pimps.
On Red Pill podcasts, you will commonly see men hold court around how degrading it is to be an OnlyFans model, but they will invite them onto their show to be degraded and ironically, this functions as self-promotion for their OnlyFans. In that way, I think the irony is on full display. There are an increasing amount of angry men who take issue with feminism and the progress it’s given to women, but those same men will complain about being a traditional man who provides for his wife. Yet there’s also men who feel frustrated that women feel entitled to their money, who also believe that when they become rich, famous and hot, they should be able to have as many barely legal girlfriends they want. Then there are men who want to see the money they spend as a downpayment on sexual favors, who absolutely resent sex workers. For many anti-feminist men, OnlyFans models represent the fall of man-kind; the end of “western civilization”. They see women who sell sex as a sort of infinite-money-hack, as these days, women can do sex work without a man in the middle. It used to be that because men took most of the money from the girls who worked for them, that many sex workers were stuck in perpetual poverty. Poverty that ensured that these young women always had a reason to come back to sex work and to use these men as middle men. But now that men are no longer benefiting from pimping in the same way and these women are able to make most of the profits, as these women come out and start sharing the numbers, of course these men are going to be upset. They’ve never made 43 million in a year. In their mind, why should she? She’s a whore!
While I think it’s worth discussing why models like Sophie Rain are successful and its worth criticizing how the Bop House promoted a teen who’s likely already being exploited, I think the anger people have for these women is misplaced in many ways. What people are really responding to is the fact that sex work is no longer underground. Our society has humanized sex workers so much during my lifetime, to the point where I can think of several who have fairly vanilla Hollywood personas now. With that has come improved conditions for sex workers, and are things perfect? Not really. However, what many don’t seem to be understanding is that while pushing these women off social media may seem like a solution to you, disempowering and shaming them makes the abuse porn producers, traffickers and pimps want to accomplish, much easier.
Shame is a big reason why many women who do sex work never report anything that happens to them. The attitude many have of dismissing and discarding sex workers is the same social attitude that encourages abuse towards them. For those personally affected by the patriarchy, it may feel empowering to shame women who do sex work because they are a tangible and precise target. However, since capitalism has existed and patriarchy was established to feed it, there have always been men who were willing to pay to have access to women, and women whose circumstances have been that their only path to financial mobility is a man. For as long as women have been able to have their own bank accounts, men have conflated our outward expressions of femininity as not that far from sex work. My experiences in multiple ends of this has made it very clear to me that at the heart of this anger around OnlyFans models is a resentment for women being able to become so financially comfortable that she objectively does not need a man. Men look at a gorgeous young woman like Sophie Rain and they resent that the closest they’ll ever get to her is being a paid member of her audience. Her financial freedom reinforces to them that she will never be so disempowered that she’d need to settle for them. That if she ever did date them, it wouldn’t be because they were the richest, hottest, coolest guy; as red-pillers like to suggest. She’ll date them because, well she chooses to; and its become clear to me that many men resent women being able to choose anything for themselves.
I think the subject of choice is worth considering because ultimately, many of these choices are simply illusions. I guess you could say that I chose to do sex work, but only because my other options were starving, with no school books and no medical care. No one wanted to pay me to flip burgers, but they would pay me to flip them on their backs. I don’t think most people who end up doing sex work would necessarily choose it. I know a lot of sex workers, but very few who I’d say loved their job the way I love mine. But what I’ve learned is that this can be said about most jobs. Sex work is only degrading if you see it as such, and in many ways, I actually think it’s much more degrading to let a corporation use your body and labor to maintain something you will never own that never feeds back into you beyond a small paycheck and then discards you once you fall out of line. I had a negative experience as a sex worker and I’m glad its no longer my gig, but if I got into it now, who knows. I hated taking off my clothes and being paid pennies for it. I hated how isolated I felt within it and I hated having to depend on men.
Sophie Rain and many other OnlyFans models have come out to say that young girls shouldn’t quit their day jobs for OnlyFans fame. That only happens to a very small amount of people. Most OF creators make just above minimum wage. I don’t think young girls are turning to OnlyFans creators and viewing them as role models, and if they are, I’d like to speak to their parents. Frankly, I think that’s where most of the blame should be placed. Tiffany Smith is feeding her daughter to the sharks because it pays to do so, and that’s very sad to me. More than these sex workers, I believe we should criticize the capitalism that would allow her to feel completely fine selling her daughter. Would she do that if it didn’t pay?
Sex work is work and we only think of it as easy because we view sexuality through a certain lens because of how sex factors into our lives. However anyone whose done sex work will tell you that if you think it’ll be easy, you will fail. As sex workers have built and gained their own platforms, they can have open conversations about that. To me, it’s hard to get the impression that sex work is glamorous if you’ve heard those conversations. Frankly, sex workers make it look easy, but that’s also part of the job. I personally find what I do now to be much easier. I found out pretty quickly that i don’t quite have the heart for it and I’m not very good at pretending.
At the end of the day, this is all marketing. The Alt Bop House is not catering to teenagers who are alternative who care about “alternative principles”, they’re catering to men who fetishize alternative women; and if you are one you know they don’t really like them, they just view them as more adventurous than the women they typically go for. They are selling a fantasy the way we are incentivized to do so under capitalism. About 6 months ago, some of you may have noticed that I have started playing up my appearance and have committed to a certain aesthetic on my Youtube channel. I’m also more overtly flirtatious and I’ve finally started wearing bras on camera (lol). Since I’ve made that change, my following has grown dramatically and I’ve made twice as much. On Patreon, I went back and forth with my audience about shifting into “Kat Blaque, the character” and that’s what you now see on my Youtube channel. It’s still me, but it’s a very curated, hotter version of me. My experience with sex work has made it so that I honestly have really struggled around the idea of putting myself together to film Youtube content. I hate the idea of selling my appearance, but I had to shift my thinking around this and I’m glad that I have. Now I see it all as a work uniform of sorts. Soft makeup, a Victoria Secrets push up bra and Jovi by Outre teased up to remind my audience that I’m a Goth without dark makeup that often distracts my viewers. It’s a look that’s worked; it’s a fantasy that sells. I could argue with myself all day about how I’m reinforcing some unhelpful things by leaning into these things so heavily, but at the end of the day, whether I wear a bra or not, whether I wear makeup or not, I alone will not defeat this societal trend of expecting women to be glamorous and presentable within the industry I work in and it doesn’t serve me to act as if it is my responsibility, because it isn’t. In fact, I’d say that trying to make it seem as if it is, does a great job of providing cover for the much harder to destroy societal reality of patriarchy.
These sex workers are easier to blame than the men who patronize them, but the demand for them will continue to exist whether or not they’re on the main stage or in the shadows. Personally, I like that things have gotten so much better for sex workers that they can finally get paid what they deserve without having to hand their paychecks to a man first and I will always support improved conditions for sex workers over blaming them for being sex workers. To me, that argument is no different from “what was she wearing”. It’s easier to criticize the clothes a particular woman was wearing than it is to deconstruct a rape culture that says if certain women look a certain way, they should expect abuse. But we lean into those half baked ideas because they’re easier to latch onto and we want to maintain the stigma around women dressing immodestly, and therefore maintain a central part of controlling women. There’s a reason why rich men who’ve historically abused women and participated in human trafficking are suddenly trying to “protect women” by creating laws that make it easier for them to keep sex workers and their abuse of them, in the underground.
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The Kittens in My Garden
One of my most vivid childhood memories is getting lost. Believe it or not, I got lost a lot as a child. I was one of those leash kids. We were on a walk in our neighborhood and she was outpacing me. She was dressed in her smart, purple work out attire that, in my memory, is always a very of-the-era retro design. She was focused on her fitness goal, while I was taking a more casual pace. I was always the kinda kid that walked the mile. This was one of the very first times I’d ever gone this far into the neighborhood. I was raised to be cautious; and growing up where I did, I never truly knew what it felt like to feel unsafe.
Our town had virtually zero crime and moving there was very intentional for my parents. My father was raised in the projects of Boston and he didn’t want his children to ever live a life like that. So, when they adopted us, they decided to raise us in a very safe, quite neighborhood in the San Gabriel Valley. My parents were the original owners our home, and that was impressive, but the houses higher on the hill were more impressive to me at the time. The further up you went, the bigger the houses became and the wider the driveways got. I’ve always loved architecture and I remember admiring those big homes, wanting to live in one myself, but not appreciating, at the time just how good I had it. In my wanderlust, I got distracted and lost my way. My mother would hit pause on her Walkmen and then double back to get me. She’d never leave me behind, but I remember that little bit of anxiety I had about holding her back. She was so driven and goal oriented and as a child, I don’t think I was quite as perceptive of just how much sacrifice she made to become a mother. She slowed down her pace and we walked the rest of the way together.

I would describe my mother as a type-A personality. Perhaps she developed it over time through my grandmother, a glamorous woman who, to my understanding, was fairly strict. She had high expectations for my mother, and from what I can tell, she fulfilled them. She graduated from Harvard with a Masters Degree, she married a good Christian man, she raised her children in a safe neighborhood and was very involved with the church. My mother was…impressive. One of the most impressive women I’ve ever known.
While my parents raised me in LA County, my mother worked in the middle of the city. She’d drive almost 4 hours to and from work daily, and sometimes I’d go with her. It’s impossible for me not to associate the city with my mother. I spent a lot of time with my mother, perhaps because, despite her being a working mom, she was otherwise quite traditional. She was pique 90s business woman classy. She always kept herself together and til the week of her death, she always kept a consistent hair appointment. You could never catch her slipping, and I remember my grandmother being the same way, just a bit more 60s glam. I’d often go with her into the city for her hair appointments. The culture shock I had when she’d show up to some lady’s house in the hood and she’d be getting her hair done in the kitchen, the smell of Blue Magic mixing with the smell of stove-fried chicken. People were so different in LA. Not to mention, growing up in the SGV, most of my neighbors were Chinese. I didn’t know very many other black people and sometimes these ventures into LA were the only times I interacted with black folks I wasn’t related to.
My mother was the first person I came out to. I don’t remember exactly how it happened, but I do remember I started by telling her that I was attracted to men and I did this already knowing very well that I was not cis. When I said this to her, she said “that’s not it”; and initially I interpreted that as a rejection of my own statement of my sexuality; but with time I realized that she saw through my (not very convincing) gender performance at the time and recognized that I was likely a trans woman. She never encouraged me or told me who I was, but she never judged me. In school, I got into the habit of wearing baggy clothes over my usually hand-drawn, painted, or sewn clothes that I wore to school that were decidedly more feminine. My father shamed me a lot for being feminine when I was a child, so I learned to hide myself from him, but my mom was a different case. Sometimes she’d be sitting right there when I’d get back home and she’d see part of what I actually wore to school. She’d always chime in with a compliment or a comment about something I was wearing. I have a distinct voice memory of her saying “I like that” whenever I wore something different. I’ll never forget when I purchased my first pair of Doc Martens from my first check from my first animation job and she told me she wanted a pair herself. I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that she liked my style so much as she was one of my first inspirations, but at the time, it always caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected her to be so accepting of me before I came out. She didn’t love all of my outfits though. Maybe the shorts were too short sometimes or the pants too tight. She made sure to let me know, but never made me feel terrible for being myself.
Shockingly, I was a Thespian in High School; and for my Advanced Drama assignments, we’d have to go see actual stage plays and do reports about them. My mom and I would go into LA by ourselves and go to the most bizarre little plays. Once I came out to my mom, I wanted to see as many LBGT themed plays as possible. When I came out to my mom, I asked her not to tell my father. So it became, I guess, our own little secret. I feel strange about that now, but back then I was so terrified of my father knowing that it felt nice to have someone at home that loved me enough not to do what I was afraid of my father doing to me. While I still remained closeted to my father, outside of the home, in retrospect, I was pretty out there in every other context. I was a kid with splatter painted rainbow jeans and fingerless gloves. we went to so many plays that had queer themes and I remember that being very impactful for me because I didn’t know very many queer people at the time. After the plays, we’d often go get food. There was always this line between my mom and I, and my brother and my father. They’re traditional dudes with chicken tenders diets and we’re more adventurous eaters with an ethnically diverse taste. So we always took our time together as an opportunity to eat in a more worldly way. We had this tradition of getting Pho, which was very exotic to us at the time. My mom and I just had this thing…this thing that only her and I shared. This knowing. This kinship. This love that was specific to us. A sense of humor and warmth and closeness. There was no voice that calmed me more.

After college, I briefly moved back in with my parents who, by then, had moved from that two story home I grew up in, into a little apartment in San Dimas. It sounds so classist now, but I remember thinking about how sad it must be that they moved from a home to an apartment. We went from having a ton of space to very very little. By then, it was impossible for my father to ignore that I was a woman. At this point, I’d already been stealth and since we lived in a new town now, I was functionally stealth while live in San Dimas at the time. I had just turned 21 and I went on a lot of dates and eventually, I met someone and we moved in with each other and I officially left home. When I moved out, things were a bit strained. My partner was white (well, passing… but that was a white boy!), and my dad didn’t really accept our relationship. Partially because he was white, but I think mostly because he was a man. Moving out marked the point where I started seeing my parents a lot less. Because of my father’s treatment of me, I didn’t like to call home very often and I often resented receiving phone calls from him. It was so hard to talk to someone who flat out doesn’t accept the version of you that is dramatically happier. I regret letting that get in the way of me speaking to my mother while she was still alive. She didn’t deserve to be punished because of how much I struggled to speak to my father. I will always regret not calling enough and bearing and grinning my discomfort just to speak to her more. I thought I’d be raising a family with that particular boyfriend and ultimately, after 6 years, I realized the suburban dream I imagined having with him wasn’t really what I wanted, and I no longer wanted to live in one of those big houses on the hill. So I left him and went to the city.
A lot of the little shows we went to were in the Hollywood/Los Feliz/ Silverlake area, and I knew that when I moved to LA, that’s the general area I wanted to be in. A few years ago, I signed a lease on a new apartment and I finally live in the Silverlake area of Los Angels. I really love my neighborhood… it’s gang territory apparently, but I’ve been told that if I mind my business, I’ll be fine. My neighbors seem to be really sweet even though I kinda stand out in the neighborhood. Once again, I’m one of the only black people in my area, but I love my location and everyone’s pretty friendly. My neighbors are mostly Salvadorian and they’ve confided in me that they’d rather have me here than a white gentrifier. I suppose my gentrification is less bad because I’m black. My apartment isn’t cheap, but it’s not the most expensive place I’ve lived. It’s the first place i’ve lived in LA that feels like home. I can’t believe I ever wanted to live in a big mansion. What would I even do with all of those rooms? I think it’s the perfect amount of room for me, and the best thing is, I’ve got a patio!
I’ve never had an outdoor space before and I gotta be honest, it really makes a difference! There’s something really nice about sitting on my patio with a CD on in the other room, a cocktail in my hand, the sound of my neighbor’s Bachata in the distance, and that sweet, sweet city air… maybe even a blunt to really take it over the edge. It’s like my little corner of paradise. It’s been a fun little project for me. I’ve never had outdoor space before so I’ve enjoyed buying all of these various little doo-hickeys for it. A cute little table and chairs, fake leaves to cover my storage, an umbrella for shade during the summer. I didn’t know I had to buy a heavy iron base for my umbrella when I first got it and I was so excited when I eventually got one and I was finally able to up my umbrella! That’s when I started sitting out there and I decided to cover the back gate with thick bamboo to give myself a little privacy because yes I do be on my patio half naked cuz I’m grown!
A lot of times when I’m writing my scripts for my Youtube videos, I’ll sit on my back patio and write on my Macbook. I was on my patio one afternoon when I got the phone call from my father. He said, through tears,
“Mumma’s Dead”
They’ve been married nearly 50 years and I knew that this man, whom I had grown so distant from, was hurting desperately. And so was I. I don’t think I understood permanence until I realized I could never speak to her ever again. I had waited for this moment in time where I’d be able to have Pho with her again, and it never came. It never will come and that hurt. It still hurts. My wound will never heal. I felt helpless so I screamed louder than I’ve ever screamed and a bunch of my neighbors peeped their heads out to see me crying on my patio. That was a day that changed me.
I remember sitting on her bed with her one afternoon, watching Bay Watch and chatting between commercials; and she told me that when she dies, she wants yellow roses at her funeral. I didn’t register it until I was at the funeral home, flipping through floral arrangements that the reason she said this to me was that I would ultimately be the person to make these plans. She knew that even back then. I figured out through my mother’s death that I was the most successful person in my family. Her funeral fell almost entirely on me. She had a Christian burial complete with a pastor from our church and I made sure she got her yellow roses and a lilac casket. She got her final manicure, hairstyle that I know she would have appreciated and beautiful dress that maintained her modesty, how she often did. Edward held me while I cried nonstop at her funeral. My hair was green at the time. It felt disrespectful and inappropriate for the situation, but I can hear my mom saying “I like that”. When she died, something within me shifted. An innocence I felt I still had, I recognized had been gone for quite some time.

One of the more recent additions to my patio was a small vase with my mother’s image on it. My aunts friend made it and I managed to take it from the repass. They have this sorta craft-like appeal that I know my mother would have loved. My mother is the reason I’m an artist. In fact, she’s the one who took me to an animation convention many years ago when I was a child; and it was there that I decided to go to Cal Arts because a very impressive person there had graduated from there. She was always making room for creativity. She volunteered for the Brownie Scouts at our church and she was always responsible for coming up with some new craft. Because I was always with her, I ended up doing a lot of these crafts and I think that’s where I got a lot of my handy, DIY nature from. I have fond memories of stealing her sewing kit and hand sewing a lot of my first pieces of feminine clothing. I have all the culture I do because of my mother. She introduced me to a world outside of the bubble created for me and placed the creative seeds in my mind that ultimately led to me being successful enough to be able to bury her.The photo on the vase is a photo of my mother in her home office. It’s a photo that portrays a fashionable woman in very humble beginnings. It’s a good portrait of the mother I remember the most. I found a lot of photos of her before she ever became a mom. It’s strange looking at photos of who your mother was before you existed. She had a sheen of youth, optimism and whimsy in her old photos. It’s clear that adopting us changed a lot for her. As I went through her things, this became even more clear to me. In every unfinished notebook and every scrap of paper nestled between a Daniel Steele novel, I saw the dreams she had. Every job she considered getting, language she started learning, every future plan she had and so so so many unfinished notebooks. One of the notebooks I found had little scribbles of texting acronyms. I remember when she wrote it when texting started and she would tickle herself with the silly acronyms we used during the height of t-9 texting. She loved that something like “g2g” meant “got to go” and “ilu” meant “I love you”. She always delighted in those simple things. She hated feeling out of date, and she was starting to look into taking classes about technology. I regret those moments I was frustrated explaining technology to her. I think she would have enjoyed TikTok.
My mom struggled with MS for many years. I saw her slowly deteriorate from the woman who would leave me in her dust to a woman who relied on everyone for everything. She hated that. She hated that she was no longer able to be the type-A person she used to be. She never wanted to give anyone the impression that she couldn’t do it. As I’m writing this with tears soaking my face, I’m realizing that I get so much of my spirit from her. That was one of the strange things I realized as I processed her death. That so much of who I am, is actually her. In many ways, I’m almost a different version of her that went down an incredibly different path. As I collected her things, I noticed just how many little private bits of happiness she put aside for herself. So that’s where I get it! She had all sorts of trinkets and things that may have seemed insignificant to most, but I know for her contained a memory. We had so much in common and when I found this picture of her, I cried because I never realized that she too also used to wear oversized glasses. I’d never known that, we’d never discussed it. We’re just oriented the same way. Even though I’m not biologically related to her, it’s hard not seeing how much of her is in me.

Growing up, my father built a walk-in closet for my mother to store her extensive wardrobe in. Because I used to go through it all the time, I was aware of just how much she had downsized. She used to fill rack upon rack with clothes, but at the end of it all, she had very few things. She’d moved twice by now so she had downsized just slightly, but surprisingly, she kept a box full of every accomplishment I ever achieved. Every silly paper I got an A on. Every poem I ever wrote her. Every playbill. Every trophy.
Recently, I decided to make a real attempt at having a garden. I don’t have a green thumb at all… in fact, none of my plants have managed to stay alive. However, at the funeral, someone gave me a house plant. I dunno the name of it, but it’s a pretty cool lookin’ one. I’ve managed to keep it alive and that made me feel hopeful; so naturally, I decided I could buy a few garden beds from Target and actually try to grow my own food!

I planted a bunch of random shit. Mostly squash, herbs, tomatoes, peppers, swiss chard and some random flowers. It was slow starting at first, but it’s really started to flourish. I still gotta figure out a way to get rid of those pesky aphids, but all-in-all, it’s starting to look really productive. I started moving some of my planters around to catch the sun more effectively and I feel like I’ve recently found the most perfect feng shui for my patio because it now feels massive and lush now that my summer squash is really taking off. I gotta do some cleaning, but it’s really becoming a peaceful place. my little corner of tranquility.
The tricky thing about having a garden is you have to tend to it. Right now she’s a little sensitive. The heat is getting to her so I have to make sure I always come back to my apartment and water it so that she’ll continue to grow. A few days ago, Edward finally helped me set up a drip system so I’m expecting it to grow a lot better now. However, before then, it was nice to have a reason to come back to my apartment and take care of something. I spend most of my time at his apartment so until recently, it wasn’t uncommon for me to miss a day and then come back to wilted plants. That started feeling selfish though so I made a habit to come back every day to make sure the plants were ok.
The past week or so, I’ve had some visitors on the patio. A pair of very adorable kittens who have recently enjoyed using my patio as a shady little get-away during the heat wave.
Alexander saw them this week when we had our date and he and his wife are pretty notorious for taking in the neighborhood cats. They have a little shelter for the ones that stop by. When the kitties first came to my patio, I realized how nice it felt to have them there. They’re so cute and sweet, and its just nice to see them. It brightens up my day a little bit. One of them is really timid and shy and the other is very chaotic. I sometimes sit on my patio and watch them catch flies.
I got the impression that they weren’t eating and didn’t have a cool place to lay so I decided to open up my umbrella and I tried to create a few little spaces for them to chill on my patio. For my mother’s funeral, I received a large flower arrangement in a basket. I kept the basket for emotional reasons, and I realized that it would actually make a pretty great little place for the littles to chill. So I took some pillows and put it in there so they’d have a place to relax.
Today while I was in Target, I decided to get a little bag of cat food for them because I figured they were hungry. When I got home, I took my doggy placemat and put some food and water in it and they took to it immediately. I actually grew up with a little kitty named Sparkle who my parents had to get rid of because I was allergic. That’s always made me sorta sad. I’ve never really been a pet person. I like cats, I guess but I’m not a cat lady, really…not yet at least. And I gotta admit, these cute kids had me really considering it.
As I sat there watching them eat…I started crying. There she goes again, crying on her damn patio. I realized that in a way, without realizing it, I had been exerting, in my own small way, a maternal energy in the space where I learned that I had lost my mother. I think my mother passing away shifted something within me that made me care a bit more about hungry kitties in need of shady place to lay their head. Sometimes when I have moments like this, I wonder if this is evidence of some sort of suppressed maternal desire I have deep down inside. I came to LA for self discovery when I realized that I didn’t really want that suburban life I once dreamed of. But sometimes I have these moments where I remember that a different version of me imagined that at this point in my life, I’d be putting my kids into the 2nd grade. And honestly, there are times where I think about it. Should I be a mom? I feel like the overwhelming answer is a no. I can’t imagine it… but at the same time, I think I’d be a really cool mom. Maybe feeding these kitties is the closest I’ll ever get. As they skittered back into their little shelter under my garden bed, I felt immensely thankful to those kitties for giving me a moment of purpose and not running away from me when I started crying. I like them on my patio. I love the kittens in my garden.
As it turns out, those kitties aren’t street kitties at all. They’ve got a parent already, so there goes my fantasy of adopting them! They still come to my garden and they’ve since become favored by my neighbors. I’m really thankful that my mom adopted me. We aren’t biologically related, but that’s my mother through and through. I used to think we were so different and I wish I was able to celebrate how similar we were when she was alive. I realize now that every little polite suggestion she gave me was her recognizing part of herself in me. That while I knew her as my mother, she was so much more than just that. She existed outside of and beyond her role in my life as a mother. She was complex, she was strong and ultimately she taught me how to love…I miss her a lot. I miss our banter, our dark jokes, our particular love for each other. But in so many ways I’ve realized that she’s not really gone. She lives on in me and is in the love I have for others. So she will always be with me, even if she’s no longer with us. And the same is true for every other person she’s ever touched. She will always be my idol.
Thanks for the kittens, mom.
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Serenity Studios + Dark Magic Society: Nazis, Manipulation, Kids and The Handsy Drunk Who Calls The Shots
It’s been a very long time since I’ve written about the BDSM community. Many years ago, when I moved to Los Angeles and began my journey of pursuing a more empowered sex positive life, most of that journey centered around entering the BDSM community. As a person who experienced a lot of exploitation, sexual violence, and bigotry, navigating this community was incredibly daunting to me at first and if you’ve paid attention to my journey, you will remember some of the stories I’ve told that will be repeated here. I used to feel like these conversations were things I would keep in the dark forever, but naturally, as kink became a huge part of social life and network, it became a subject I blogged about. When I came into the BDSM scene, there were several people who took advantage of my ignorance and all of the positive things I can say about BDSM, are unfortunately sabotaged by the reality of the offline community around BDSM.
Typically, when I’ve written about the scene, I have gone the extra mile to conceal names and identifying info. When it comes to this particular issue, the reason I am not going to do that is because the people I’m going to name have worked incredibly hard to silence me. They’ve effectively rallied people at Fetlife to remove each post I’ve made trying to draw attention to these issues. For that reason, I am going to plainly name the people involved in this issue and I will do so with absolutely no regret, nor shame. They could have chosen to let my posts remain internal, but instead they want to make it so that the information is impossible to find. I will not be silenced.
Serenity StudiosWhen I came into the BDSM community, I was getting out of a 6 year, very vanilla, very heteronormative relationship. Before then, I had participated for years in the swing community. The week I turned 18, I went to a swinger club with a much much older Dom. It was very maladjusted, but part of why it was interesting to me was I desired a connection to a community that was more sex positive than the one I was raised in. I met people who I thought were my friends and it would take me too long to process that they were, in one way or another, taking advantage of me. At that phase of my life, I did not really have a sense of who I was and a lot of people took advantage of me being in a hypersexual state post grooming and abuse. I don’t really blame anyone for this, but long story short, I was traumatized and that’s why I tried real hard to pretend I was vanilla. I was not; that along with other things is ultimately why I ended my relationship and became primarily focused on connecting with the BDSM community.
I was living in Orange County at the time and back then, there was a little dungeon called Dragonsgate. Dragonsgate was my very first BDSM dungeon and it was the way I connected with some people who are still within my kink circle. At Dragongate, I would meet the first person who’d ever give me bottom space. At the time, they went by the moniker Sir Pent. Pent was, at the time, your prototypical dominant who, especially to a newbie, seemed like one of the better people to play with. Pent and I had exchanged passing flirtation, but I was very hesitant to play with people when I first came into the scene. My early days in the BDSM dungeon were mostly me crossing my arms behind my back and watching other people play. But Pent made me incredibly curious. We had passing flirtation and it wouldn’t eventually become play until they were working an event at a dungeon called Sanctuary Studios called Awakening. Pent was working paddles on the night I visited Awakening for the first time. Awakening is essentially a BDSM taste testing event. It still happens today and I think it’s a really great event for newbies. However, one of Pent’s main fetishes, as I would later learn was newbies. When they gave me a taste of their paddles, they gave me a bit more than they gave other people. I didn’t know it at the time, but they managed to get me into “bottomspace”. If you’ve never done BDSM, bottomspace is hard to describe. It’s almost like that feeling you get after an intense work out. Where you feel good, accomplished and like you overcame something that was challenging, but enjoyable. For a lot of bottoms, it puts them in a very loopy and suggestible headspace. I didn’t really understand that ths was what I was experiencing, as a newbie. I wandered around the club like a lost puppy and naturally other dominants found me, were interested in playing with me so I agreed and did so. What I didn’t understand about Pent at the time, was he was a bit possessive. After our scene, he privately contacted me on Fetlife while we were still at the event and privately, sneakily slipped me his phone number. Using Pent’s phone number, I shared what happened with them the next day. They were so turned off that I had bottomed for other people that they said to me “It seems like you get around”; essentially slut shaming me after my first few experiences bottoming for someone. It took me a lot to get to the point where I went to a dungeon and let someone spank me, but here I was immediately feeling all the guilt and shame I was trying to get away from. Being a newbie, this was very confusing. Pent was the kind of Dom who wanted to be the only man in the lives of their submissives. They had many submissives who all only bottomed for them and that was the dynamic they were in at the time. They were interested in me and we had many conversations about how if I bottomed for them, I couldn’t bottom for other people. Keep in mind, I was new and this was being presented to me as the gold standard. But I wasn’t their submissive. I wasn’t their bottom. I was just some girl they liked that they spanked at a newbies event. Still, because they pursued me and what I didn’t know at the time was this was a violation of an agreement they had made with their primary partner at the time. They were trying to cheat on them with me. That’s why Pent was so secretive about giving me their number.
After Pent said what they said to me, I asked around about whether or not it was normal, and I found out pretty quickly that it wasn’t. I’ve always kept a journal on Fetlife about my kink journey and I wrote something very indirectly describing them and what happened. No real names, just nicknames and loose inferences. This post would apparently really piss off Pent and his partner at the time, who would cal my phone several times begging for me to remove the post. When I finally did get them on the phone, they threatened to blackball me entirely from the community if I did not remove the post. Pent said to me that Mistress Cyan, owner of Sanctuary Studios, would ban me from every upcoming event unless I removed the post. This was complete bullshit, but I was new and I figured this more experienced person with power quite genuinely had the ability to blackball me entirely from the scene because I wrote about them slut shaming me vaguely on my page. So I eventually did remove the post. That was my first time being silenced about abuse in the scene.
The longer I was in the scene, the more I realized how much Pent relied on my ignorance in order to manipulate me. This was a person who immediately wanted to define BDSM for me. They immediately gave me a false impression of what was “real” BDSM was and they were incredibly deceptive in their pursuit of me. This was my FIRST experience in the BDSM scene. The first person to ever give me bottom space, who didn’t follow up with aftercare, shamed me for bottoming for other people. I learned very quickly in this scenario that people in power at dungeons are willing to use their power to silence people.
Pent would go on to open up their own extension of Sanctuary studios that got shut down because they were listing it as a photography studio when it wasn’t. Eventually, with more organization and resources, they opened up their own dungeon in Riverside called Serenity Studios. It’s been many years since I had my experience with them and while I’m inclined to believe that people change and on the scale of bad, I suppose my experience could have been worse, unfortunately it seems like some of that behavior hasn’t changed. There’s alittle over a dozen of us in the scene who can say they’ve been mistreated by Pent. And knowing what I know, it’s impossible for me not to imagine an abuse of power.Mistress Cyan is certainly not the sort of person who’d ban me from the space because of a post I made online. That was purely Pent attempting to use his proximity to an authority figure to scare me into silence. It was deliberately manipulative. I can very easily imagine them wielding power in an abusive way at Serenity. So when the dungeon opened, I spoke out about my experience. Which is how I connected with their other victims. My experience is like a mild annoyance compared to theirs. What bothers me about all of this is it sharply contrasts with my initial image of the BDSM community.
When I first came into this scene, I did so with the assumption that it was safe. That’s what people told me. That it was a place where rules were standardized and people would try their best to make sure that everything and everyone is safe. As a newbie, it’s so easy to give a lot of legitimacy to dungeons simply because they are dungeons. However, the longer you’re around the more you realize that many of the people in these dungeons are unsafe. You realize that ego and tribalism often override the desire to maintain a safe space for kink. People are less likely to believe that their friends could potentially violate someone’s consent. You start to notice the very selective way in which consent violations are addressed. Pent was a DM at sanctuary for years. I wasn’t the only person they hurt. There were a lot of people who were negatively impacted by them. In our own negotiations before the shit hit the fan, they essentially communicated to me that if I were a real submissive, I would let them do whatever he wanted to do to me even if it violated my gender dysphoria or made me uncomfortable. That really messed with my head and his way of introducing me to BDSM really negatively impacted my views. Some people organize in the BDSM community purely so they can standardize a type of abuse that flatters them.
Since having my experience with Pent, a lot of things have changed. I don’t speak about this very much for reasons I’ll get into, but within the Los Angeles BDSM scene, I’ve become a somewhat prolific munch organizer. I organize a group called LA Kinky Weirdos and host a munch every month in silverlake towards the end of the month. We’ve thrown several play parties that were all entirely for charity. Together with the support of 910 Weho, a dungeon in West Hollywood, we’ve raised over 10k for the Los Angeles Gay and Lesbian Center. Each of our events featured queer vendors and performers. I made absolutely no money and that’s the only context where i feel comfortable organizing something. In my observation, the biggest enemy of safety in the BDSM scene is money. Money makes it so that we have to open up our spaces to people who aren’t safe and it means we have to placate the status quo. Money plus ego is even worse. So many people organize events to get laid or to flatter themselves. There are probably people reading this right now who are familiar with LA Kinky Weirdos but had no idea I was the person behind it. That is by design. It’s not about me, nor is it about my friends. LA Kinky Weirdos is my attempt at doing SOMETHING to build a community and network of kinksters. I want people to meet and connect with enough people who can tell them that the shit Pent tried to do to me isn’t ok. I wanted people to have a more pleasant introduction to BDSM. I already feel kinda alienated within the scene as a black trans woman so I especially don’t organize my events around finding partners none of it’s about that.
For all the reasons above, I have discovered that in comparison to other groups, I tend to be a lot more severe when it comes to how I handle bad players. I’m sure I’m not 100% correct about this, but my attitude is if I find out you’re a consent violator, I just remove you entirely. I ban you from my space and the events we host. That said, my standard for that is kinda high. If I ban someone for consent violations, we typically really want to know what it’s about. We also want to know that it’s actually true. So we try to conduct an investigation internally before we decide to ban someone. As we are not a dungeon and at this point only organize a munch, I feel we get away with this a bit more. I understand why other spaces aren’t as harsh, but I know the women and queer people within my group appreciate when I ask a person who’s been dangerous to leave and never return.
Unfortunately, when you spend so much time fielding accusations, you start to recognize a pattern within some of them. It’s not uncommon for accusations to only come up after a break up, for example. Sometimes two people have very different approaches to BDSM and they rush into play prematurely and hurt each other. Other times i’ve discovered that people will trigger each other and then one person will be transformed into a predator purely for that reason. I never want to invalidate someone’s experience, but before removing someone, I want to know that they are truly dangerous. That they’re the type of person who should not have access to these spaces where they can hurt more people. So if I remove someone, it’s usually for that reason. However, some of those people I’ve removed have not only found comfort in other spaces, but also power and influence. For example, I removed a former DM of mine for violating someone’s consent and they were still able to work as a DM for Threshold. The pictures I received of the victim were incredibly concerning. I couldn’t believe he’d hurt someone that much without their consent. Because this person went through a “restorative justice” session, with Threshold, they were reinstated as a DM so they could feasibly watch over the scenes of their victim playing with a new partner. I can understand not wanting to excommunicate someone from your space, but what I don’t understand is giving them back the same exact power the’ve abused. I know from my own work sorting through these issues that usually the people causing issues are a minority, but having that one person will discourage dozens from attending. But these people aren’t usually removed because they are useful.
This past week, I saw that person I removed from my community for really badly hurting someone lead the charge against someone who seems to also have done some questionable things, but not to the same degree. Watching him rally against a consent violator having power, while he left someone with scars they didn’t ask for, really draw my attention to the fact that much of the concern certain front facing organizations have around consent violations is self serving. On top of that, unfortunately, being in the position I’m in, I have seen people falsely accuse others in order to make a sort of political move within the scene. Often times what this looks like is mentioning something intentionally vague and allowing people to fill in the blanks and make up a story in their mind. And of course most people’s minds are going to go to the worst place when you say “consent violator”. When we remove someone, we don’t need for it to be a huge performance. We keep everyone informed of what’s going on and make a point of always being there to answer questions about bad actors, but it isn’t a humiliation ritual. Keep in mind, I don’t host play events anymore and I don’t earn money from my munch aside from the occasional tip. So when I call people out, it’s not so that they come to my party. It’s not so that they give me more money or join my group. It’s purely from a place of wanting people to be safe. Unfortunately, some people realy only think about money.
Dark Magic Society and Robin’s Sexual AssaultWhen I first came into the community, I heard about a swinky (swing and kink) group called Dark Magic Society. It was one of the first groups I was introduced to when I moved to Los Angeles. I’d heard a lot of good things about it, many people even describing it as a “family”. They conducted interviews that, if passed, would allow you to have a membership and officially join their group. The creator/organizer, Robin, was able to personally interview every single member herself along with her co-organizer Todd. Transparently, seeing her do this was inspiring to me and it likely inspired me to do some of what I’m doing now.
However, I wouldn’t meet Robin personally until I started going to the Sherman Oaks Munch many years ago, before I even played with Pent. Back then, I was new to the scene in a newer phase of life. Like I said, I’d been through some shit and I figured DMS was a way of potentially trying to reconnect with swing in a more empowered part of my life. But I never really had time to do the required interview, but at a certain point, it seemed like Robin liked me enough, and over the years we’d interacted enough to where she very clearly cared less and less about me going through the process.
Dark Magic Society’s reputation was more impressive than Robin.
Robin was… constantly drunk. In all the years I’ve interacted with her, I think I’ve probably only seen her sober a few times. Whenever I saw her at the Sherman Oaks Munch, she was always very forward, very pushy, very indifferent to my boundaries. Transparently, I started to develop a bit of anxiety around going to the Sherman Oaks Munch and interacting with her because she was so incredibly pushy. I would write these posts on Fetlife about how I didn’t appreciate being touched by anyone, but especially by women, and she would like to interact with them. Even sending me messages very ironically supporting what I was saying. Since she’s a drunk, I basically always blamed her boundary crossing as an aspect of that.
There was a moment where I was connecting with this British man. A diver with a home in Mid City. There were certain types of play I was interested in exploring and he invited me to his home during a party he was hosting for Robin. At a certain point at this party, I was naked, walking around the house as everyone else was and when I met Robin in the kitchen, speaking to her and others in passing, she decided to grope me. This really bothered me because I know that she read, responded to and even had conversation with me about how much I don’t like being touched, especially by women and yet she did it anyways. Mind you, a huge aspect of my trauma relates to people very habitually dehumanizing me in moments like this. I get the impression often that people view my black trans body as incapable of having boundaries or saying no. People have this very habitual way.of violating my personal space, white women especially. There’s this sense of familiarity white women often assume with me that feels like they’re placing me in a pet-like position and deciding that I don’t get to have boundaries around being touched because I am perpetually beneath them. I’ve become very used to dismissing women who violate my consent, but it bothered me in this instance because I’m generally able to have that stupid thought in the back of my head that maybe, just maybe they didn’t mean it that way. But she interacted with my posts about it and then decided to violate me knowing it’s not what I wanted. Touching me on its own is bad, but it was made worse by the fact that she was seemingly aware that this was an anxiety of mine.
Transparently, I sometimes feel like I am being homophobic when I have the sharply negative reaction to women touching me. At the Sherman Oaks Munch, I wondered if I should be okay with how much she pushes herself onto me if I’m going to be a more sex-positive person. I also recognized that Robin likely struggles with an addiction and for that reason, maybe isn’t always super aware of what she’s doing. I’m constantly defaulting to that. So even though she sexually assaulted me, on paper I made a ton of excuses for it. Maybe my response is homophobic; maybe I deserved it because my tits were out, or maybe she’s too drunk to realize what she’s doing. I don’t know. Women have sexually assaulted me several times in my life and I’m always made to feel like it should impact me less than the men who’ve sexually assaulted me
Because I am a munch host who meets a lot of newbies, I make a point of being aware of the scene and what’s going on so that I can advise people. With time, I saw that DMS was only good because of how great the attendees were. Robin is an almost entirely negative experience and many people within the scene have clashed with her. Aside from sexually assaulting me, there are other reasons I’ve historically been concerned about her events.
The Nazis and the KidsThere were two instances of bad decisions that I’ve called Robin out for and I’ll let you tell me whether or not they’re justified. I respect that my sensibilities aren’t everyone’s.
First issue was DMS had a villains vs heroes event and someone decided to show up in full Nazi regalia. The owner renting to Robin is the son of Holocaust survivors, and as a person who’s thrown events there, I know his FIRST rule is against race play. Apparently she did not read the rules and got very angry with the owner for being upset that someone in nazi regalia showed up to their venue. Now, I hear all the arguments for why some wouldn’t see this as a huge deal, and as an organizer I definitely understand that sometimes you can’t act as quickly as you’d like, but Robin was, of course, wasted at the time and could not act. Affter the fact, her minions would go on to defend the person who showed up in Nazi regalia all over Fetlife. To me, there’s a distinct difference between being slow to respond and low-key endorsing the behavior. Sorry but, to me, anything less that outright condemnation against Nazism makes you complicit. The proper response would be a sober one and it would not at any point offer sympathy towards the people cosplaying fascism. If you want to do nazi play, do it in the appropriate context around people who consent. I don’t want to hear about why its not actual nazism; that doesn’t matter. The dungeon had strict rules against it and if Dark Magic Society is going to present themselves as an inclusive event, then it makes sense for people to take issue with their light defense of Nazi play. Naturally, as a person whose munch is very colorful, queer, and diverse, when people tell me they’re interested in going to DMS, I mention the Nazis. Why shouldn’t I?
Second issue is a man who was once part of our group, who was married to a woman in our group was in the midst of a divorce. DMS was throwing a sex pool party later in the day and apparently earlier in the day, they also had a children’s pool party and between the kids pool party and the sex party, Robin allowed the ex-husband to bring their child to the venue of their sex party. Now, this is just a home with a pool and the child was not exposed and there’s a lot of arguments for why drawing attention to that is kinda silly, and I do understand that. However, what I had received was simply that the husband was taking the child to the venue and I spoke about how that made me uncomfortable. While I understand why many wouldn’t care about this, to me, it was very concerning that no red flags went off at any point in Robin’s mind. This is a dicey case where the mom very clearly does not want the child to be swimming at that venue. Even if we exclude the sex party aspect of it, that’s still something to be concerned with because he’s actively taking the child somewhere his mother isn’t comfortable with and I just don’t exactly understand why any of those things even had to happen to begin with. So it’s not like I don’t understand the point by point reasons why this wouldn’t be a big deal to someone, to me, it was just an example of a bad choice that could have been avoided. We should want children far away from this scene and the mother was right to be concerned about it, even if the kid wasn’t ultimately exposed to anything. In retrospect, I could have not said anything about that, and probably shouldn’t have, but it’s something that concerned me. I never want to stop being vigilant around kids at this scene.
Robin Defends Pent, By Falsely Accusing MeRecently Dom Con happened in Los Angeles and Sir Pent, now Madame Pent, was in attendance. This reinvigorated the conversation around what they’ve done and someone reached out to Robin to inform her about it. My post about it is one of the most prominent on Fetlife and because she doesn’t like me for calling her out, she decided to respond to this message calling me a liar and describing me as “one of the scene’s biggest consent violators”.

So a person who’s sexually assaulted me is accusing me of sexual assault. Not only that, she’s saying Im one of the BIGGEST consent violators in the scene and the context of that is her defending a consent violator who now owns a dungeon who’s harmed many people over the years.
I cannot stress to you how much I immediately regret not making a bigger deal of her assaulting me after I read that. How fucking dare she. If Robin were being honest, she’d say that the few times I’ve come to her event, I’ve never played. In fact, she can only say I’ve played at that one event where she sexually assaulted me. Anyone who knows me in the scene knows that I don’t typically play with ANYONE because of how deeply traumatized I am. I am very scared of opening myself up. I historically let people approach me and unfortunately I can say that pretty much every person I’ve bottomed for has some sort of accusation against them. I feel pretty paralyzed in the scene not just because of trauma but because of my job. I am worried about sharing intimacy with people who are just trying to get close to me for clout-y reasons. One of the only people anyone can say they’ve seen me bottom for was a person who kinda did that. When it comes to Pent, there are a lot of witnesses to what he did to me and a lot of people who remember when it happened. Okay so you don’t like me because I’ve called you out, that doesn’t make me a consent violator.
Robin is making a very boldly false accusation against me, not because they want to keep the community safe, but because she does not want for me to cut into her bottomline. She threatened to sue me for damages to her business. THAT is what she cares more about than anything. What’s crazy is now that I know what I know, I’m aware of the fact that there are SO MANY people who are regulars at her events who are dangerous people. One of her besties who continues to pursue me, just got arrested for domestic violence. The man who took the kid to her pool party was abusive towards his ex. She surrounds herself with people who have harmed others and now she’s spreading a bold face lie about me being a consent violator; not to protect anyone, but because she doesn’t like me.
As a rape survior, its honestly really distressing seeing the way that people utilize the experiences of survivors to get a certain response from the scene. I hate to acknowledge and even support the idea that false accusations occur, but they absolutely do. People DO exaggerate about the facts of what happened, not because someone is dangerous, but because they want to remove them from the scene. In the recent incident we had to look into, there were aspects of the accusations made against someone that, to us, felt like they may be that. We were concerned that people were trying to rally together to remove someone from the scene because of personal conflict. And seeing people I know personally to be consent violators advocating for a punishment they never received for the greater degree of harm they caused just made it pretty clear to me that protecting victims was not the top priority. Something else was.
Maybe I really don’t get it because, frankly, I don’t care very deeply about “clout” in the scene. Maybe it’s the context in which I entered the scene. I live a life that is more open than most and I have passion, so I dedicate myself to holding space for people in the scene. If anything, the only real thing I get from it is feeling like I have a ton of kinky friends. That fulfills me and is enough for me. For Robin and Pent this is a business. Drawing attention to their misdeeds cuts into their business. Both Robin and Pent were people that were attracted to me and mistreated me for not reciprocating their feelings. Both of them did what they did not anticipating that I would develop into the person I currently am. They rely on silence and since I’ve known them, they have repeatedly attempted to silence me for speaking about what they’ve done to me.
Why I’m Posting About This Here
This should not be such a common experience in the BDSM community, but it is. And the only reason why I’m posting this to my website is because I have exhausted almost every other form of communication. Robin made a point of getting all of my posts about her that don’t name her explicitly removed. So i’m going keep this one on my website where it will reach much more people outside of the LA community. I wanted to just make a few few posts for the people who’d actually need to see this information. For the people who are actually in this community I had no intention of directing that amount of attention on the scene. If Pent and Robin had not expended so much effort to remove the posts I made in the appropriate channels, I’d feel less inclined to use my larger platforms that they cannot silence.
Because both Pent and Robin create spaces for newbies, I feel like it’s very important for SOMEONE to say that they are not safe. I thought I was alone in my experiences with them until I started openly speaking about those experiences. Since making my previous posts, I’ve received many messages about Robins abusive behavior. Much of it making references to her daughter, who apparently attends her events from time to time. A lot of the stories were just her being sexually forward and pushy with complete strangers. One story I received described her grabbing a woman by her hair without her consent and forcing her to the ground. I have kept silent about this woman for far too long. I’ve tried to privately warn people about it, but every month I have people who come to my event and mention their interest in going. As a person who tries to be inclusive, the nazi shit was very concerning to me. The most concerning. More concerning to me than what she did to me, but I think that’s because I’m used to minimizing the harm people do directly to me. Let’s take everything else I said out of the equation: if I heard that an organizer defended someone in nazi gear at their event, I’d lose all desire to party with those people. When that incident happened, I still told people to make up their minds for themselves. Now seeing her spreading lies about me that are objectively untrue has made me regret offering that nuanced view of her actions.
She is relying very heavily on racism and transphobic bias that eagerly believes that black transgender women are somehow predisposed to sexual violence. Everyone who has observed me in the scene knows that I am incredibly hesitant to play with new people. I haven’t had a new BDSM partner in a very long time. Very few people in the scene can say they’ve seen me play, let alone know who I’ve played with. People would describe me as confident, they would not describe me as forward, or aggressive or deceptive. Those who do, are typically responding to their own discomfort. I am very paranoid about connecting with people and require a ton of reassurance from people I share intimacy with because of trauma. I know that her lies will not outdo the work that I’ve done, but I am frankly flabbergasted by the degree of audacity she has. People like Robin are used to never quite seeing a consequence to their actions.
If you’ve followed my discussions about BDSM, you’ll know that I’ve mentioned these stories in those discussions. I’ve made several videos over the years that reference the many things that i’m sharing here without saying the names of those involved. I’m thankful for my habit of documenting my growth in the scene because I learned a lot from these experiences and I frankly just want for more people to know that some of these groups don’t have your best interest at heart. You will be discarded if one of their friends assaults you or if they leaders have an interest in you and it’s not reciprocal. While I definitely believe that people can change, I am very confident that these people have not changed as both Pent and Robin work over time to protect their businesses from people who they’ve used their power to harm. At a certain point, both of them had the ability to make the right decisions, but refused to do so. They are poor leaders who rely quite seriously on you either not knowing any better or being indifferent enough to them doing wrong that you don’t make a fuss. Standing up against Robin has been hard mostly because of the cult around her. At the end of the day, she’s upset with me because i warned people about her defense of nazism and indifference to child safety. And she feels that way, AFTER she assaulted me. I haven’t spoken openly about her assault, but now I have no problems doing it. I would have liked to have kept this not as public as this, but Robin forced my hand. I refuse to be silent.
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Politically Queer, Socially Heterosexual
I think, to some degree, I’ve always struggled with being deified. Contrary to popular belief, I didn’t throw the first brick at Stonewall. Historically, I’ve been more like the quiet wife of one of the policemen who participated in the raid. I spent my 20s trying to fade away into the background and seeing that as a sign of ultimate personal success. I suppose for that reason, I feel very odd existing in the way I do, where it seems to be disruptive of me to say that while I may be politically queer, I’m quite socially heterosexual.
Since my mother passed, I’ve been thinking a lot about my life path and how it compares to hers. Going through my mother’s things, I realized we had so much in common. More than I ever recognized or celebrated when she was alive. I realized that I am the version of my mother that broke away fully from a lot of the conventions that have historically been quite common within our family. Of course our experiences are quite different with me being transgender, but we are so similar in so many ways. I watched my mother, a Harvard grad, seemingly put a bit of her greatness aside in order to perform a traditional, heterosexual, Christian role. Despite my mother being more accomplished than my father, she became a woman who followed my father’s desires whether they made sense or not. I didn’t fully process this until I was older, but I think seeing her do that made me feel as if doing the same within my own relationships was some form of success.
Who I am in my 30s is very inspired by who I was in my 20s: a girl who desired a more traditional life where I would of course be relegated to my home and labor around the house. I used to idealize that so much that I always felt like whatever I wanted wasn’t nearly as important as whatever the man in my life currently desired. I spent most of my 20s figuring out ways to make myself seem smaller, slighter, less apparent, and less disruptive. How could I convince this man I was in love with that I’d make a good wife? Each life skill acquired, not necessarily for me. I took me a while to break through the matrix and realize that wasn’t what I really wanted, and looking at my mother when she passed, it’s hard for me not to notice how many things she wanted to do that were never done largely because she opted to have a more traditional life. I realized that I’m living a life where I’m able to at least try to pursue some of those things and so my 30s have been all about me learning to be bolder, bigger, more apparent and more straightforward.
Moving to Los Angeles and intentionally pursuing this path, I started being recognized more regularly as a queer person. Not usually a trans person, but quite often a sapphic person. Tragically, I am not sapphic, but a lot of people who meet me assume I am in some way. From what I’ve gathered, it’s because I am more overtly sex positive and alternative than most people, and for a lot of people, that’s an indicator of someone being not quite fully heterosexual. But I was quite different before I moved to the city.

A good example of how I used to dress when I was stealth in the OC. Before moving to Los Angeles, I spent 6 years in Orange County in some of the more conservative parts of the county. In all my years socializing in the OC, I never met anyone who identified as queer. Maybe one girl who was trying to get me to have a threesome with her friend…but even then; I only heard about her being bisexual through someone else. I spent my 20s being very isolated in spaces where no one was openly queer, and stealth encouraged me to distance myself from anyone and everything that could be recognized as queer. I was always an outspoken pro-LGBT person; but when I say that I mean in very narrow circumstances, usually with people I knew, in private conversations, I’d offer lukewarm affirmations of gay relationships. When you’re a straight person doing that, you can easily feel like you’re being radical, but being around queer people is actually quite a different experience. It’s one thing to support something theory, it’s another when they become real, tangible people who’d likely draw attention to the unhelpful heterosexist things you internalize that aren’t directly challenged when you’re speaking of someone theoretically, but not engaging with them personally.
I had plenty of queer friends in college, but that was a 4 year span of my life that ultimately doesn’t really overtake the majority of my life where I knew very few queer people. In Highschool, I was probably the most openly queer person I knew. My rainbow clothes and splatter paint everything sort of gave it away. I had a more radical queer identity and during that phase of my life, I was attempting to break away from the expectations of my parents. I was trying to become my own person and, again, even that was about a 2-3 year span of my life. Yeah, it was pretty radical for me to have a mohawk and do research papers about different conceptions of gender and sexuality around the world, but ultimately, I hadn’t been in community with other queer people. I dreamed of running away to the city and going to Tiger Heat with a bunch of other LGBT people, but that never really happened. Instead, I continued to be surrounded by heterosexual people within a conservative area. As I transitioned, I very quickly went from being mildly radical within these spaces to just someone in the background who fell into the same patterns as everyone else.
Those patterns are my modus operandi. Being recognized as queer is odd for me because I spent most of my adult life with people assuming, correctly that I’m a straight woman and putting me into a certain category for that reason. I’m used to deferring to men and speaking to them a certain way. I’m used to people expecting me to be of use. I used to slipping into a unique harmonic tone and rhythm when speaking to other women. I’m used to shifting my tone to seem pleasant and being very concerned that I seem less than pleasant. As I’ve moved to Los Angeles and connected with queer women, sapphic or otherwise, I realize that many of them do not have these patterns. I admire it. I recognize that they are living lives where they don’t think about these things the way I do. I envy how many of the queer women I know have a boldness about them that always reinforces their boundaries and reiterates that they are not here for the pleasure or entertainment of men. I have a deep resentment for the part of me that falls into these patterns so easily. It happens sometimes when I run into other people from the OC or otherwise more conservative areas. People would often assume that I have a hard time in these spaces or moving through the world in this way, but in all reality, it’s what I’m more familiar with. It’s like we’re part of the same cult or something.
Because these patterns feel so central to me, I’ve often struggled with the idea of “queer” as a label that I really identified with. While I’ve changed a lot as a person, the thing that remains the same, is I feel the most radical thing about me is entirely what I say and do, and less who I am. I understand that I am a black transgender woman, I represent an extremely stigmatized and often violently attacked population, but clinging to that often feels like clinging to dogma. My race has always presented more robust hurtles and I can confidently say that when it comes to discrimination, for me, it’s mostly been racial. Even in the narrow circumstances I’ve been in where I’ve been openly trans within these more conservative spaces, there was always a sense of handwaving the trans part of me because I was otherwise assimilated into their conception of womanhood, at least socially. I may complain a lot, but in all reality, people often treat me quite well and I know it’s because I tend to move through the world with this particular suburban, heterosexual, loosely Christianized, overly polite way of presenting myself. While I used to have a lot of frustrations around DL men, that hasn’t been the case for most of the age-appropriate dating years. When people see me with my partners, our racial difference is more stigmatized than anything else. It’s hard for me not to think of “queer” as a title for those who challenge the status quo of gender and sexuality. I feel like the only area I really do that is my polyamory, honestly.
It feels like needless essentialization to say that I would be defined as queer solely because I happen to also be transgender. I’d probably feel differently if my work wasn’t the only area in my life where I found myself regularly speaking about being transgender. Aside from conversations with potential romantic partners, it’s not something that really comes up. I know that feels odd to say, but it’s an honest report of my life. When I was that kid with a mohawk, I was actively living in a way where I challenged assumptions of gender and sexuality, but now the assumptions made of my gender and sexuality are typically true, save for the instances where people assume I’m sapphic. As a political label, I have no problems aligning myself with queerness, but I suppose it feels odd to me to say that I myself am queer in the way many people I know who identify as queer are. I recognize the immensely complex journey I’ve gone through, but that journey feels very far away from my life today. A footnote with shoddy attribution.
As I said, there’s such a difference between being a sole advocate for queer people in a conservative area and being in a community with queer people. What I’ve realized recently is, on the timeline of my life, I’m realistically still just a few years into truly socializing with queer people. Many of my own assumptions of queer people based on what I’ve read, but not experienced have been turned on their head. I can now say that within my friend groups, I tend to be the token straight girl. I find queer people to be more fun, less serious and more open. That’s who I’m trying to be in my 30s. I’m trying to break away from those patterns, but it’s also quite bizarre that, because I’m a black trans woman, people tend to extend a great degree of queer street cred to me that really overstates how out and open I’ve historically been. Offline, it’s like my life has been defined by these phases of hiding myself. Initially hiding that I was trans as a child, then after coming out as trans, hiding that I was for the sake of stealth and passing. And these days, because my transness is synonymous with my work, telling people what I do for a living almost immediately outs me and that’s something I’m still getting used to.
I know that for people who’ve followed my blog for a while, it seems strange to say, but before the pandemic started, I had just shy over 100k subscribers on YouTube and my average video got less than 20k views. That’s not nothing, but I was definitely a far more niche creator than I currently am. I used to mostly make videos about being transgender, which meant that my content was only really relevant to the extreme minority of people searching for that kind of content online. This allowed me to be stealth while also having a YouTube channel. Long term followers of my YouTube channel will remember that I once removed all of my content and decided to go faceless for a while when I first started to date my ex. I once felt like being out as trans would ruin my entire life so even if I had a little bit of a presence online, I still went to great lengths to separate my online and offline life. That’s one of the only reasons I use the alias “Kat Blaque” online. These days, it’s pretty typical for me to be recognize when I’m out and about, but even then, I’ve discovered there’s a segment of my audience that for some reason misses each video where I mention that I’m transgender. I suppose it’s because I’ve never been a person who waves a pride flag, I’m not sure. Offline, I find that I tend to only be recognizable in liberal areas. I experience invisibility in more conservative cities, and invisibility is what I spent most of my life fighting for. It’s what I’m the most accustomed to.

Grabbing Margaritas in Hollywood at 33. I do recognize that in a cissexist world where everyone is expected to be cis and heterosexual, there are a lot of boring people who’d look at the point-by-point of my life and say, “You’re queer.” However, it feels like bending to essentialism to agree with this interpretation. People have tried to tell me who I was since the day I was born. I’m used to it. At least once a week, someone online (because it only happens online, never offline) tells me that in fact, I am actually a gay man. And it’s laughable because even when I didn’t have a binary identity, I was certainly not recognized as a man; or even boy. I’ve struggled with how I tend to be registered socially and how people register me as an idea. I suppose that’s what it’s like being on the other side of that conundrum where your reality conflicts with the working narrative people seem to have of you based on their narrow conception of others who share parts of your identity.
I often feel as though many people do not recognize that not all transgender women are in a constant state of transition or reaffirming their gender identity. Some of us reach a point where discussing being transgender starts to feel like needlessly drawing attention to the pimple on your forehead or the freckle on your neck. It’s a part of us, but it doesn’t define us. For many of us who transition, we reach a point of invisibility and we often have to decide to be more vocally open about who we are as a way of reminding those around us that while you may assume we are normative, we in fact are not. Some people identify so deeply with that activist spirit that it becomes a strong characteristic of their persona. I’ve met many absolutely beautiful trans women who “pass” who will tell you that they are “trannies” within the first conversation you have with them. There are some of us who move in a way where we are constantly, intentionally, drawing attention to the differences we have as a form of political action, and then there are those of us who find peace in simply allowing society to make a mostly accurate assumption of us based on our appearances. It still requires a lot of practice and strength for me to speak of myself offline openly as a transgender person. I’ve spent most of my life without that language in my vocabulary. It’s gotten easier with my public speaking, but unlike some of those trans women I’ve met who define themselves in their first few breaths, that’s just not something I have practice with. Despite being 33, I feel like if I am “queer”, I’m still a baby.
It’s all very possible that my feelings around this will one day change. It’s all very possible that I’ll reach a point where I feel confident in a queer identity and I don’t feel this need to constantly reaffirm that I am heterosexual, used to being assumed as such and have only moved through the world being known as such my entire adult life. Frankly, I feel quite silly inferring that vocalizing my heterosexuality is a sort of struggle, but it does frustrate me that so many people seem to assume that I have a uniquely queer perspective. I feel like there’s a layer of the world I genuinely don’t experience that many queer people do. Even the alternative subcultures I participate in are typically very heterosexual. I have no conception of some of the queerer sides of many of the communities I’m part of. Much of what drives my curiosity of queer culture relates to that. A whole layer of culture that feels distinctly separated from what I currently know. I’ve read more than I’ve experienced. Advocated for more than broken bread with. I catch myself thinking ignorant thoughts and drawing heterosexist comparisons and being disappointed in myself for being ignorant despite what I’ve professed.
As I get older, I recognize more and more that I have so much capacity for growth. That with each year, I learn something new about myself that shifts me in a more genuine direction. Maybe my feelings around this will change one day, but for now it seems pretty truthful of me to say that while I may be politically queer, I’m still very socially heterosexual. Maybe that’ll change one day. Maybe it won’t.
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The Split Realities of Transfemme Desire and Desirability
I think I’m cute. Although I may have had my own struggles with insecurities, and my transition may have occasionally informed those insecurities, from a very young age, I was always the kind of person who walked past a mirror and found something to appreciate. However, while that may be true, it’s also true that I live in a society that simply does not agree on many levels, and for a very long time, I felt that despite how I felt, I was too black, too dark, too fat and too trans to be loved the way I felt I deserved. So, in my youth, I allowed a lot of men (because, yes, they were men, and I was often still a child) to inform my vision of self to the point where my standards were so low that I accepted behavior from men that I wouldn’t come close to entertaining now. I took trains, I lied to my friends and family, and put my safety at risk on more than one occasion just to experience what was often a private and secretive sexual relationship with a man who of course, had a valid reason for keeping our relationship secret. It was the day after I was asked by a guy to lay flat in the bed of his truck as he pulled a deserted trailer park for fear that someone would see us together that I finally realized I deserved much more. And since I made the decision to no longer share my body privately with men who cannot claim it publicly, my romantic life has improved dramatically… but my trauma persists.
Transfeminine people live within an inherent contradiction: two stark realities in which we are both desired and reviled. For some, we embody the failure of manhood. An ultimate perversion and subversion of all the patriarchal ideals that we’ve known. For others, we embody a figure of beauty that is deified. So transgender women experience a world where they’ll struggle finding a job at McDonalds but won’t struggle finding a rich man who is willing to fund their transitions as long as they’re willing to exploit themselves to give said men their shemale fantasy. I feel alienated by both of these realities and something I’ve come to discover is that many people struggle to comprehend transgender women as being real people, with real experiences, real histories, who really do live their lives as their genders. We are often the crude party trick teenage boys play with each other. “Do you think she’s hot?”, and if you answer yes, you’re gay cuz she’s got a dick. Our realities are minimized to repulsion and fetishism and if you know anything about the latter, you know the former goes hand in hand.
When I say people struggle to comprehend our realities, what I mean is they tend to often view us as an idea, a trick or a deliberate nuisance. It’s not that I, like every other human that experiences sexual desire, have romantic and sexual relationships. It’s that I masquerade as a woman in order to trick and fool good heterosexual men, who’d otherwise want nothing to do with me. My actual reality is that I move through the world in a way where my transness never really comes up outside of conversations with people I’m intimate with, or in conversations with friends and colleagues. Men hit on me quite a bit when I go out and if I’m interested, I’ll tell them that I’m transgender and my experience isn’t what many would assume. Society would like to believe that each time a man approaches me, he’s completely averse to my transness. In my experience while most heterosexual men may fully exclude transgender women from their dating pool, many of the men who’ve approached me aren’t really turned of by me being transgender. In fact, there have been more than a few situations where it made me more interesting to them. I guess for me, while I understand that my transness is shocking to many people who’ve never interacted with a transgender woman, at 33 years old, I’ve lived a long life and I’ve spent my entire adult life as an out trans woman who is typically read as cis. At a certain point, it becomes kinda pedestrian to say over and over again “i’m a woman and most of the men who pursue me are straight” because that’s what I’d argue most women, cis or trans experience. We live in a society that says femininity is a performance to be consumed by heterosexual men, so of course that’s going to be who pursues me the most. And despite the fact that I have a strong preference for bi or pansexual men, I’ve had my longest term relationships with heterosexual men. That’s not a badge of honor or a validation of my gender, it’s just…what it is. But some people quite literally can’t imagine this to be the case and most people don’t know enough trans people to otherwise understand just how common that is. Contrary to what many would like to believe, I’ve never been able to attract men seeking other men and most of the men who pursue me do not use the label “bisexual” to describe themselves and none of them have described themselves as gay. And honestly, that’s a shame because gay men are often cuter and bi men often more emotionally intelligent than the average straight man. But still, my romantic life is painfully straight. And honestly, the only intimate partners of mine that have wanted to masculinize me are white men who racially fetishize me.
I think I’m boring. Sure, maybe I’m a polyamorous goth who is kinky, who is also an artist, who is also a Youtuber, who is also a community organizer, who is also a public speaker, but I think I’m pretty boring. I don’t live the crazy life conservatives seem to think I do where everything I do is predicated by being transgender and I don’t spookily lurk the halls looking to spread my (well-funded) woke agenda to the masses. I exist in this body, as I am, and this body has history. This body has trauma. Trauma that is exacerbated by these two realities, how I process them internally, and how others process me.
Contrary to the common narrative that transgender women are not and could never be desirable, I have always had to navigate the aggressive ways in which men express their desire for me. Even after no longer entertaining DL men, I have always had men who were interested in me in some way, and I’ve dated many people over the years; more than I should have. However, one of my primary sources of anxiety is why a man may be interested in me specifically. How do they feel about feel about transgender women? Because I’ve discovered that men fall into a few camps.
- Some men are attracted to transgender women because they fetishize them. Every few months, they need their tranny fix and they don’t really identify with it at all. They have no desire to ever publicly acknowledge that they are in a relationship with a trans woman; and by “relationship”, I mean “fucking them in their apartment consistently”.
- Some men are “curious,” and they’re in the process of questioning their own sexuality. They’re not entirely sure they like transgender women, and they are often otherwise quite awkward with cis women. They will connect very well socially with trans women but will either not pursue them or will and will very quickly change their mind. Sometimes even ghost.
- Some men see trans women and cis women as only marginally different… but often this comes with the caveat that she must “pass”. And for him, the only difference is the plumbing, and he really doesn’t care about that
- Some men are no longer holding themselves to heterosexuality and are therefore liberated from the societal pressure that would make dating a transgender woman a daunting task. They are fully indifferent to the opinions of others, and they date who they date with no input from anyone.
- Some men are able to acknowledge that transgender women are attractive, but do not want to be physical with them.
- Some men will never date, sleep with or socialize with a transgender woman as they view them as inherently offensive and repulsive.
I tend to primarily date men in group 3, but I prefer the men in group 4. However, the men in groups 1 and 2 have done a pretty severe number on me to the point where it’s really sabotaged a lot of my relationships. I think what I’ve desired the most is clear communication about where someone is at, but because most men are never in a situation where they interact directly with a transgender woman, they will struggle to process their attractions immediately and the relationship escalator is very different. What’s often bothered me is men have often made me feel like this complicated thing that must be processed over long periods of time and many of them have lied to me or perhaps not been honest enough with themselves to be directly honest with me about how they really feel. Speaking frankly, I think far too many men become so fixated on not wanting to be seen like a bad guy that they never quite say it. They never quite say “hey, I’m not interested in you” or “I’m honestly only interested in having sex with you because you are transgender, and I don’t date trans women”. What i’ve often gotten is some variation of “I’m going through a lot right now and I don’t want to be with anyone, but maybe one day”. And they like to keep that back door open instead of being honest about how they feel. Honesty hurts, but in retrospect, if men were more upfront about how they felt and didn’t lie to me about some complicated circumstance that makes it hard for them to date me, despite apparently wanting to, I would have saved a lot of heartbreak. I would have been given the chance to move onto men who were interested in treating me how I deserved instead of holding out hope that things would one day change. It’s interesting to me how these days, men who try to put me in that position don’t even really register anymore because I love myself enough not to entertain these types of men. But they still linger..
I hope this doesn’t sound like bragging, but I have a long line of admirers. Men who are solidly in group 2. Who admires me, likes every picture I post, comments on and engages with every status update, but never had the guts to actually try to pursue me. They’ll ask me out on dates but will never commit to a day. They’ll tell me they’re not in the place to date but get engaged to a cis woman a week later. These men will be amorous towards me, but their own self-doubt and processing will prevent them from ever really taking that step. Most of them are just guys that appreciate me from afar, but some of them have lied to me to cover up their insecurities.
There’s one I still keep in contact with who, today, has a rainbow flag emoji and “queer ally” in their bio. I met him many years ago online. After a month of talking, we were supposed to go on a date. The night of our date, he called me to tell me that he doesn’t want to date me anymore because he wants kids one day and I’ll never be able to give him that. I was devastated at the time. I really liked this guy, and he made me feel like he was very interested in being with me. Years later, we reconnected, and he was dating this cis woman who he’d complain to me about all the time. When they eventually broke up, he tried to pursue me, and he told me that what he said in the past was a lie. That he said it as an excuse because he wasn’t ready to go on a date with a transgender woman. Mind you, when I say this devastated me, I mean, it really really hurt me. It has been hard to process that someone could be attracted to me in a genuine way, but then also completely reject me for something I can’t change. But he’d told me he’s grown since. He’s ready now. So, like a fool, I entertain the idea of making up for lost time and he gets back with his girlfriend before we manage to get to the first date.
When you’re a transgender woman, it’s almost like you’re let into a side of the world that isn’t visible to many other people. You are approached by these men who are in robust relationships with cis women but desire sexual access to transgender women. Most of the DL men who contacted me weren’t just in relationships, but they were married. Often with kids. So, you see a side of men where they’re willing to completely betray a woman who, in so many ways, has everything you’ll often idealize. And in that, it becomes clear that what you idealize isn’t ideal at all.
Growing up, I wanted to get married, have children, and live the life my parents lived: safe, suburban, clean, and family-oriented. I don’t really want that now, but I idealized it a lot when I was younger. I had to process both my desires to do that as a young woman and my social and medical transition at the same time. I wanted to meet a man, fall in love, get engaged, get married and live that idealized life, but I think time demonstrated to me how much i don’t want that and how false that image of suburban perfection really is.
A lot of men have lied to me to my face. They’ve told me things that were not true to make me vulnerable so they could get what they wanted from me. At the same time, many men tell me the truth but don’t know mine. I’m used to people assuming that I’m cis and with that, naturally, comes people who will pursue me without knowing that I’m transgender. Perhaps there was a time where a man not knowing was more of an intentional dating strategy, but these days it’s more like, I’ll let someone flirt with me, but I won’t flirt back until I figure them out. Are they accepting of trans women? Are they attracted to them? I’m generally good at spotting that, but I’ve been wrong. I’ve had a man spend half of our conversation telling me how attracted he was to transgender men and women, assuming I was a queer cis woman who was then very angry when I told him I was trans because I was “wasting his time”. I’ve had men who’s publicly expressed transphobic beliefs, corner me on drunken nights to pressure me sexually. I’m glad I’m at the point where men being attracted to me is no longer exciting to me on its own because I truly want nothing to do with the vast vast majority of men. I wish they’d leave me alone, honestly. In all reality, I require an emotionally intelligent man who will no try to make me feel uncomfortable about demanding a certain degree of respect. DL men make you feel like an asshole for wanting to meet them in a public, well-lit place. They’ll try to use your degree of femininity as a weapon against you because it excites them to have that power over you. The reason you’ll never be that girlfriend is always because you’re not feminine enough. You’re not respectable enough. It’s dangerous to date you and dating you may mean that they’ll lose everything. We are pressured to accept less, because we are seen as lesser. And then these men who harm us, have the full protection of our society that, again, often believes that transgender women are repulsive. So repulsive that no one would ever consensually date them. When they murder us, we are rapidly blamed. The “she was asking for it” sentiment often reserved for cis women who’ve been murdered is replaced with “she tricked him”; even in situations where he knew. It’s as if a portion of society refuses to accept that trans women also experience intimate partner violence that can be and often is just as deadly as intimate partner violence against transgender women. In fact, it’s for this reason that statistically, transgender women tend to experience these types of violence more frequently. Some men only prefer transgender women because they can abuse them with impunity.
All the above has made it incredibly hard for me to even be receptive, let alone perceptive, of men who are indeed attracted to me without all of the baggage. A few months ago, I had a moment that really shocked me. I had a massive crush on someone I assumed wasn’t inclusive of trans women in his dating life. And so, we were cordial friends, and he was really really nice to me. Still is really really nice to me, and I hadn’t realized that he wasn’t just being nice, he was interested. And he pointed out to me that I wasn’t very forward with men within the sex positive space we were currently in. While he wasn’t directly speaking of himself, it was obvious that he was kinda suggesting to me that I could stand to be more forward with him specifically and it took me by surprise. I had constructed this entire narrative of who he was in my mind, and he turned out to be significantly more pansexual than I’d realized. And while I suppose I could still pursue him, he moved away and I’ve kinda missed that chance. Soon, I noticed that the same was true for a few other people
I’m polyamorous and, like I said, I think I’m in the first very functional phase of my romantic life. Each of my partners I’ve been with for more than three years. My longest partner is around 8 years now. None of them have complex feelings about me being transgender. In fact, the subject doesn’t really come up ever. My partners are all child-free men who plan on remaining that way, have careers that they love, and their source of validation comes from themselves. We love to go out and the idea of staying in because they’re ashamed of me is laughable because my partners very much enjoy being seen with me because they’re proud of me and take pride in being my partner.
I have virtually no patience for men who are at a stage in their processing where they make their issues, my burden and that’s honestly because I’ve embraced myself as real, tangible, beautiful and valuable. That’s a narrative that exists beyond these two harsh realities of transfemme desire and desirability.
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Returning to My Roots
I started blogging online in the early days of the internet during a time when netizens were few and internet culture was less synonymous with pop culture. Xanga was my platform of choice, and each day, I’d come home from school and write about my day or whatever happened to be on my mind. Eventually, that graduated to a Blogspot account that I aptly titled “Androgofem”, a term that resonated with me at the time that I borrowed from my favorite podcast at the time, Gay Pimpin’ with Jonny Mcgovern. That was my first attempt at an “official” blog, and I wrote about my own experiences and thoughts from the perspective of someone who, at the time, identified as “Gender Queer”. But today, I’m a very different person, with very different desires and goals. And yet, I feel myself drawn more and more to returning to the person I once was, but I think I’m finally mature enough to actually create the blog I thought I was creating back then. And my life is much more interesting now.
As discussed in my previous post, I’ve recently experienced a bit of frustration with both my Facebook page and twitter being hacked. Meta’s lack of response was, in a way, very empowering to me. If you followed my Facebook page at the height of its popularity, you know that at some point, virtually everything I posted went viral. I can primarily thank Facebook for catapulting me to the modicum of success I currently have thanks to my work for Everyday Feminism and the collaboration and support of Franchesca Ramsey; who also had her page hacked. My page was poppin’. I reached 4 million people a week and maintained a speaking tour for several months during the height of my page’s popularity. I posted virtually every day and I genuinely loved engaging with my followers. Now my page is being run by someone in Indonesia. Posting spam and false stories about celebrities that I would never care for (it’s not a secret that I am not a celebrity crazed person). Beneath those posts are other fake accounts engaging with the post to share it to other people and the hackers are already using my page to spread revenge porn and AI art. All on a page that is verified, with my name on it… The hackers effectively were able to receive more support from Meta than I did with my several contacts. I’m accepting that my page is a loss.
Surprisingly, with just a few clicks and email exchanges, I was able to regain complete control of my Twitter account and getting it back made me ask if I should, as a creator, entertain the idea of investing in a blue subscription to protect myself. That’s when I started thinking about how miserable the platform was and my feelings about twitter are fairly similar to my feelings about facebook. I don’t use either platform and neither are as relevant as they once were. If this is my job, and these platforms are important, why shouldn’t I invest in them? And to be frank, as I thought about that, I remembered a time where I would just log onto my blog, write what I wanted to write and I didn’t have to worry about the myriad of issues that come with sharing my content on other platforms.
Recently, I did a photoshoot with a rope artist and when I posted the photos on instagram, I was informed that the photos were explicit and for that reason, my profile was hidden. This frustrated me as part of my energy that has returned to me since leaving twitter has gone towards creating content for instagram and those photos were supposed to make the change of my profile looking a bit more official and professional. But no, instagram can’t handle a photo of me in a bikini. And that’s when I realized that I can just post these images… to my blog. There was a time where that was just what I did every time I took interesting/cool photos, but I had lost sight of that and just how much blogging in this particular format excites me.
While I’ve become more of a speaker and performer over the years, I am a writer at my core. When I started this blog, I did it with the intention of only posting incredibly profound things, but I realized after thinking about it for a bit that this was becoming a silly excuse for me to not post here. Something I’m trying to do more of is HAVE FUN doing this work. Frankly, I’ve spent too much time online taking myself too seriously and I don’t think any of you are really here just for that. So as an extension of my blog becoming more all encompassing of who I am as a person, I’m going to start posting here way more frequently and my instagram is going to be a space where I share my blog posts and romanticize myself. I think I will always continue to write profound things and I’m excited to just re-establish this habit I once had of sharing as freely as I once did in a form that is honestly far more accessible to me than video production often is.
I’m starting to think more and more about how people are fighting desperately to erase people like me. I used to feel like the trans women who created content of themselves looking good, but saying nothing were part of the problem. That they needed to use their platforms to draw attention to the real plight of transgender women. However, as time goes on, I recognize how immensely powerful it is to be not just be visible, but confidently so in a society that does not make much space for you to do so. Offline, I spend a lot of time going to fun places, exploring new spaces and building community with other weirdos. I’ll always be a Youtuber who makes video essays and such, but I want to start blogging about that. I think I needed something like my Facebook page getting hacked for me to really value having my own website and centralized blog. Through my content strategy, I forgot the power of having one page you redirect people to where the content is supposed to, theoretically, remain there. Expect to see more posts from me on here. Maybe I’ll even start a Substack.
In the meanwhile, please subscribe to my blog by clicking the little button in the corner of the blog so you can get emails about when I update!!
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My Facebook Fan Page Was Hacked: This is how Meta Responded
As I write this post, several friends at Meta have attempted to handle the issue internally, but they’ve each reached a dead end, and my page is no longer visible. At the height of my Facebook page’s popularity, I would reach 4 million real users per week, but so much has changed about Facebook; or is it Meta now? I can’t keep up with all of these new names billionaires come up with for their data collecting websites that we all feel we absolutely must have to remain in contact with each other and the world. Either way, losing my Facebook Page has truly put some things into focus for me and I wanted to tell you how it happened, how it’s shifted my feelings about social media and also tell you exactly how it happened so that you and your friends can protect yourself from this increasingly popular scam.
A few weeks ago, I got an email from a producer for Travis Kelce’s podcast, The New Heights. Frankly, I didn’t know he had a podcast and I couldn’t think of a reason why he’d want me; a decidedly un-atheltic, black, goth trans woman to be on his show about Football: a sport I still struggle to understand. Typically, I avoid being on podcasts or shows because I’m pretty sensitive to controlling my own narrative and what I’ve found is that because I embody so many things that aren’t commonly understood, the reasons people want to speak to me are usually not conversations I’m interested in entertaining. However, recently I’ve been pretty excited by the idea of guesting on other people’s things because I’m going through a distinct shift in my life as a creator and there’s something nice about giving up a bit of control and making someone else’s project collaboratively. So despite the fact that I couldn’t figure out why he wanted to talk to me, nor could they tell me why they wanted to speak to me, I decided to say yes. A decision I would frankly come to regret.
Going into this podcast, I had a lot of reservations. They told me it would be live-streamed, which seemed odd since, from what I can tell, Travis’ podcast isn’t. But I would say the vast majority of times I’ve made any sort of appearance, it’s been far in advance, usually with edits to come in the coming months. I have a lot of discomfort with livestreaming because I’ve found that there’s virtually no way for me to do it without being harassed. As discussed several times on this blog, I have a pretty long history of being harassed and my livestreams are always brigaded no matter how small, no matter how bizarre. I’ve been a blogger for most of my life and I can count the times i’ve gone live and not been called a slur on one hand. It’s never been a format that I’ve liked for formal conversation. So going into this, harassment was a big concern of mine. I was told that they were going to pre record our conversation and livestream it when it came out. In other words, there would be no direct interaction between myself and the audience. The payday was uncharacteristically large; about 5 times what I’d typically make, and naturally my agency was excited.
So we set up a tech call, and there were numerous red flags. Firstly, I was told that there would be no pre-recording, instead we’d be broadcasting live on Facebook of all places. Mind you, while my FB page had around 178K followers, I hadn’t really used it in a very long time. I would occasionally use it to engage with my audience on there, but those posts never got very much attention. So naturally, I really didn’t understand why we were using Facebook. I brought up my concerns about harassment and the tech guy really didn’t address them. Instead he said to me “We are looking forward to having you on this episode and future episodes.” then he confirmed the dollar amount of my payment with my agency. It was very odd. And very tacky. We don’t talk numbers. I was very put off by this but largely because I placed my trust entirely with my agency, I followed the steps I was given. The tech guy, who wasn’t on camera by the way, instructed me to open up my business account and create a permission for my page. I was honestly feeling incredibly dejected in this moment. I brought up harassment, it was pretty quickly dismissed and I was told how much money I’d be making. It felt gross. I don’t want to sound like I’m not someone who likes money, but it’s not worth my dignity. I have said no to so many interviews and walked away from so many things. I don’t want to be debased unless I consent to it; and if I’m coming onto a show to share my perspective, that’s not the right place or time. But… I am a self sabotager. In the past I’ve said no to opportunities I ultimately regretted not going for. Maybe this would be one of those circumstances…
And the virgo in me refuses to acknowledge… that I was right.
Within days, several accounts were added to my business account and they eventually managed to completely remove me from my own page. They’ve now done so 5 times, after I’ve been added back by people at Meta. There is a permission on my page that I absolutely cannot remove and since I’m feeling petty, I’ll share it with you right here. Hackers get fucked.

Currently, my page is being controlled by hackers in Vietnam and Indonesia. I cannot remove these permissions. I was incredibly upset with my agency so I tried to get them to get the help of someone at Meta, but that was to no avail. I was then told that I should PAY for a Meta Verified account so that I can get one on one support from a real, living human being. After a week or so of being knocked in and out of my page, I bit the bullet and paid Meta so that I could speak to an actual person, not AI. That actual person told me…. to go to fb.com/hacked and change my password and email. A solution I cold find on the FAQ that does not solve the issue with them having complete control of my BUSINESS account. After explaining it for the 5th time to someone at Meta, they finally told me that I had actually been speaking to the wrong department. That I should instead be speaking to the Bussiness support department, so I have to start an entire new support process. And I did that, they got me back into my account and this morning I was kicked out yet again. When I reached out again for support I was told to go to fb.com/hacked and change my username and password….
As you can probably tell, this was all incredibly frustrating to me, but it really put things into perspective.
Here I am, a decently known creator, with a verified page that I earned through publishing content on reputable new websites and becoming a recognizable public figure, and I can’t get direct support from Meta?? I had several friends of mine who’ve also been hit by the same scam and they tried to connect me with people at Meta. I’ve sent my info to at least 4 Meta employees and each of them got back to me and said that they were “getting the runaround”. When the hackers stole my page, they immediately started posting AI art. They ran pornographic ads and posted inflammatory things about Russian and Indian celebrities that would get a lot of engagement. I mean they made dozens of the same posts over and over again and they were able to get more robust support from Meta than I was given at all. On almost any other platform where I have an audience of that size of smaller, I’ve been able to receive support from the company. All of this happened a week after I spent a few days giving direct advice to social media companies about creator experiences on their platform. And in those conversations, I frequently mentioned that Facebook was a dead platform, overtaken by AI art and spam that cheaps the platform. Its truly the website for older folks who knew almost nothing else. Everyone I know who has facebook still really struggles to delete it. I myself have a deep disdain for the platform, but I maintain a personal page because I want to be able to stay in touch with people and find out about events in the city. It’s so hard for me to delete even though I desperately want to.
My Facebook page was successful because of the human element. Whenever I’m traveling to a new location, I’ll make a post on Facebook, asking the hive mind for suggestions. On my first trip to New Orleans, I asked for suggestions for food and drink and so many people came to eagerly share with me what their favorite places were. And I used those suggestions to enhance my trip. I went to so many really cool places because my followers told me to. But now?? Facebook is mostly full of fake accounts obsessively posting either things that are upsetting that will get a lot of engagement or things that are completely fabricated to get a lot of engagement. I see so many blatantly fake news stories that trend on Facebook and it’s kind of out of control. So many older people have been completely radicalized by things they saw on Facebook and these days it truly feels like that’s the core of the platform. Honestly, the only thing Facebook has going for it now is the curated groups of real people. I think I’m far more impressed by people who are able to organize those than people with large pages these days. It just doesn’t carry the same value it once did.
Social Media is changing and if I’m being honest, that is both terrifying an exciting for me. As a long time blogger, I feel this desire to return to what once was. We did not used to spend every waking hour on the internet! We were able to form strong subcultures and intimate connections and networks without the internet. Frankly, one of the most fulfilling things I’ve done is get off twitter and start community organizing in person. I host a BDSM munch every month and it’s created a great network of friends, comrades and open minded and accepting people and it’s like I can feel my brain piecing itself back together as I logged off and touched grass. Obviously, because this is my job, change is indeed scary, but at this point, I feel like it makes sense for me to do so. The world is changing too.
If you follow my YouTube channel, you will probably notice that I post less often but at a much higher quality. I have my assistant/researcher, Alyssa, and my editor, Becky, to thank for that. Delegation has been incredibly hard for me, but it’s truly paid off. I’ve decided to really reappropach how I blog online and I suppose this will be a great post to define that for those of you interested in supporting what I do!
Firstly, my Patreon is how I’m able to do this full-time. People who support me on Patreon really truly are keeping me afloat. That is probably the best way to support what i’m doing and I upload my content on Patreon before I upload it anywhere else.
Youtube is obviously my main platform, and on my main channel, I will post video essays about trending stories with the goal of making a larger point and encouraging introspection.
Movies In My Closet is my newest project that I’m developing into a larger, more highly produced series. For now, however, I will upload videos about films that touch on LGBT/Alternative Lifestyles/Subcultures.
My Blaque In The City youtube channel is just reuploads of my longer/more successful tiktok videos.
My main tiktok account is going to be me speaking/chatting about things, responding to conversations and telling stories etc
My side tiktok is going to be beauty/makeup/lifestyle/fun/light hearted content and I’m using it with the thought process of it being my experimental, but very positive account.
My instagram is going to be essentially synthesis of all these things, but more photography and such.
And I think I’m the most excited to announce that I will be using this website way more. I think I took myself a bit too seriously when I started this blog, and I miss opening up my blogging page and just typing in my feelings, thoughts and experiences. That is who I am. Those are my roots. Losing my Facebook page just made me realize how much I needed to get back to my roots. I tried to start a new Facebook page, but what would the point even be? Meta has made it incredibly clear that they do not value me as a creator and it’s time to read the room and move forward.
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Trace Lysette Was “Disappointed” In My Review of Monica (2022)
Understanding that the personal is political has taken me a very long time. Being one of the only black and trans creators on YouTube, I was under immense pressure to be overtly political. To lend my voice. To stand up for what’s right. To inform and to educate. And I’ve done that for many years, but it became exhausting. It slowly depleted me of my passion, and I needed to recalculate myself as the tides turned and more people picked up the slack. As I started to see more faces that looked like mine and more people who had a similar experience with gender as myself, I realized that I could start… having fun. I could create content about the things I enjoy or find interesting. And that’s when I landed on film review and critique. I went to film school but had been focusing much of my creative energy on creating overtly political educational content online, and that became overwhelming for me during the pandemic when all we could do was fixate on politics. So, I shifted a bit, and now I have several film reviews on my YouTube channel, some of which are my most popular videos. I realized through these videos that I could create content about films that are still political and that there was a lot of power in being a person who has lived through some of the things people can only experience through these films. So I decided to start reviewing films that have themes I enjoy exploring, and that’s when I began to get the idea for my upcoming series, Movies In My Closet; a retrospective series of queer films I once watched while closeted. My goal with that series is to explore the themes and representations of some of the movies that personally shifted me while also exploring what these films were to other queer folks then and what they currently are now. In preparation for this series, I did a series of much shorter reviews to test out different formats. One of those reviews was of the film Monica, starting Trace Lysette. Of all the films I had more recently reviewed, this was the one I was the most excited about and the most eager to upload. However, once it went live, I would soon hear from Trace Lysette that she was incredibly disappointed in my review. The comment she left on my video would remind me of an aspect of “politics” that I don’t often consider.
Monica is a film about a post-op transgender woman who returns to her hometown to visit the ailing mother who once disowned her for being transgender. As a transgender woman who dealt with her own flavor of being disowned and who recently lost her mother, I knew I wanted to cover it. I immediately made that note when Trace Lysette started posting teasers for the film. I was incredibly excited to see, support, and review the movie, but it had a limited release, and I could not make it to most showings. I kept putting it off as I overwhelmed myself with other projects, and then something happened that made me feel even more connected to the film’s subject matter.
My mother had MS for most of my life. I watched her go from being an active, type A, Harvard graduate who always had control of everything to completely immobile and unable to care for herself. When my family moved to Tucson, Arizona, it became even harder for me to come and visit them. I was already fairly estranged from my family because my very religious father made it clear to me that he didn’t want to see me as myself. So, my relationship with my mother suffered even more. I was close to her as a child but could not be as an adult. So when I heard that she had passed away, I was overwhelmed with grief and resentment. I wanted nothing more than to be able to have a close relationship with her where I could lean on her for advice about the things I couldn’t speak about in front of my religious father, who resented my happiness in my youth. But she was gone before I had the chance to say goodbye, and that’s something I still struggle with. After my mother’s death, I felt more compelled to watch this film and explore its themes, and when I uploaded my review, I prefaced it with an acknowledgment of this being the headspace for which I watched the film. Acknowledging that my feelings may have built an expectation for what I would see.
As I said, my review of Monica is one of several shorter reviews created to test a format that would later be translated into the more extensive, highly produced videos I’m planning for MIMC. For this review, I gave my initial thoughts going into the film and then my thoughts immediately after the movie, and I treated Monica like any other film I’d review. Was it compelling? Was it well done? Was the story well written? Was the acting good? What was the motivation behind the choices made? I answered each of these questions honestly because I believe queer films should be considered the way all films are considered. For Monica, there were a lot of things that stood out to me that I couldn’t ignore. Monica is an excellent character portrait but not a particularly compelling story. I can summarize the entire film in a few sentences, and you will have a solid understanding of the story from beginning to end. Monica comes back home to take care of a mother who once disowned her and doesn’t initially recognize her, and through her mother’s seeming acceptance of her feminine nephew, Monica gets a bit of closure. That is, in essence, the entire film. However, that whole story is packed into the film’s last third. The other two-thirds of the film is this long character portrait of Monica that is full of mostly very similar shots of Trace Lysette that are absolutely gorgeous and well done but do not really move the story forward. When I looked up reviews of the film, a few mentioned that the style of the film overwhelmed it, and I agree. Unlike other reviewers, I was interested in understanding why that is, and my initial thought was that it may have related to Trace Lysette’s wanting to be depicted a certain way. From everything I saw about the film, it seemed like Trace Lysette had a lot of hand in the creation of this film, and typically, when more well-known, iconic queer figures star in projects, they essentially play themselves. From the little I knew of Lysette, I knew that she was very similar to this character, so of course, my initial assumption was that she had a hand in directing how she was portrayed. The third layer of the format I was testing out was to research the director of the film and his motivations and challenge those assumptions. I found the style of the film fascinating and wondered what was behind it.
Looking into the director’s motivations, many of my feelings about the film’s style were clarified. Andrea Pallarro is a fellow Cal Arts Alumni, and when I read that, it made so much sense as this film reminded me of so many I saw at Cal Arts. Pallarro described in a few interviews that his desire with the style was to slowly reveal Monica as a character. When you watch the film, you can see that the camera slowly zooms out of Monica as the film continues. The first shot is very close to her face, and as she gets closer to home, you see more and more of her. Pallarro wanted to create a sense of claustrophobia by shooting in standard definition and filling the composition with closely packed in figures. He did this to develop a sense of unease and insidiousness, and I think he did a great job, as that’s how I felt.
When I looked into this, I realized that the director was incredibly successful to that end, and my reaction to the style of the film was evidence of that. Upon research, I also learned that Monica is based on a friend of his, a transgender woman. Monica was a bit older in the original script but was still eerily similar to Trace Lysette. The character grew up near where Trace Lyestte was raised and was rejected by her family, just like the character. Trace Lysette had a lot of input into the changes made to the character, but was already perfect for the role. She would run off to the city and ultimately do survival sex work to fund their transition. Pallarro was very invested in trying to properly represent a transgender woman, especially a post-op transgender woman who is, as he described, “100% a woman”. And there’s something to be said about the fact that most depictions of transgender women we see are not of post-op transgender women who’ve lived life within their gender for a sizable portion of it. As a trans woman who transitioned a very long time ago, who was stealth in her 20s, and who is now well into her 30s, I do understand the need for that, and as I said, I think that Monica was an excellent depiction of that. Monica is not a character questioning gender or overcoming other’s feelings about her gender. She is a transgender woman whose life has been forged. She has relationships, jobs, and a life similar to those around her. One that isn’t necessarily predicated on her transness. In a lot of depictions of transgender women, there’s an overemphasis on their transness, and this film doesn’t have that, and I appreciated it. However, what struck me was there’s a lot about returning to your childhood home post-transition that would cause it to be a subject that comes up and almost never does. And that’s where the film felt like it was avoiding the subject.
I think one of the issues with where we’re at right now is that we have this incredible desire for a specific type of representation created to inform and educate. As someone who felt compelled to play that role, I can understand how the pressure to do that often doesn’t allow for the freedom or flexibility to create for the sake of creating. Monica moves the needle in that it’s a film starring a transgender woman, about transgender women, and it’s one of the first of its kind in many ways. But it’s also not really a film that I’d tell anyone to watch if they wanted to learn anything about being disowned by your family as a transgender person. It’s not a film that really addresses the depth of how hurtful that can be. We know that Monica is a person who’s struggled, and we know that she is a sex worker, and we can piece together that she likely only became a sex worker because of her mother’s rejection. We know that it’s hard for her to come back home and reconnect with her family and that her family struggles to recognize her, and that’s odd and uncomfortable. Still, we don’t really learn anything that makes us empathize with these characters because we learn very little about them. Because this film was on an international circuit, it lacks dialogue, and I understand why. But there were so many nuances that were left unsaid. One of the scenes I liked that kinda did this is when Monica looks at photos of her brother’s wife wearing their mother’s wedding dress. There’s a part of Monica that feels hurt by the fact that this classic tradition of a mother giving her wedding dress to her daughter isn’t one that she can participate in because of who she is. In a house full of history and past artifacts, many things could contextualize her feeling of disconnection from her family, but those things are barely explored. But that goes back to the issue of whether or not that’s what this film is trying to do. It’s what I, as a trans woman, wanted the film to do so desperately, but that isn’t the story the film is trying to tell. I suppose that’s the interesting place this film sits; its representation feels more robust behind the camera.
These are all the things I expressed in my review, but the review format was a bit sloppy. I shared my honest feelings before recontextualizing them with my research that would shift my perspective and assumptions. I ultimately concluded that the film had good qualities but was for an artsier audience. As I said, it’s hard for me to suggest this film to a person trying to understand more about trans people. Still, as a slice-of-life film with gorgeous visuals and a creative photography direction, I think it would be interesting to study. Those were my honest conclusions after gathering as many facts as I could. Trace Lysette would ultimately see my review and wasn’t very happy about it. This is the comment she left on my video.
“I typically don’t defend my work online but it is clear to me that you are projecting a different idea for a similar movie that you would have rather seen onto this one. You have made some inaccurate assumptions about me, also. Mainly, an actor at my level does not have any say so on the directors shots and angles unless maybe in a sex scene. You referenced my looks so many times in this video, which is very telling and shallow. The aspect ratio was tight on purpose to dial in the performances and give the feeling of feeling trapped. There is a reason this film is (barely) in the awards conversation and what a rarity that is for our community. People are talking about the performances in a positive light because it’s hard to reach an audience without dialogue, and the framing left zero room to phone anything in. Also, the quote from overseas press was probably not even my exact wording but when you are doing a whirlwind marathon of a press junket in a foreign country and trying to convey things to people who may not even speak English well, sometimes the words don’t come out perfect. I’ve always admired you from afar and this is disappointing. Because surely you can understand that if a film like this doesn’t do well then we may never rise in the ranks of Hollywood to a point where any of us have the clout to insist on more trans stories written by trans people, so we can see the full spectrum of our experiences. It’s a miracle that after 7+ years this film even made it out into the world and that most of the critical reception has been positive. Also, my name is Trace… not Tracy… and if you knew me in real life you would know how different this character is from me. You do not know me or where I come from, so don’t act like it. I will continue to do my best to make space for us in Hollywood, and the support from our own community is usually the thing that I fall back on. It’s so much bigger than this one film. I wish you could see that.”
Comment on “Trans Representation Where She’s “100% a woman“I had a lot of different feelings reading this comment and I’ve actually considered redoing this review simply because I regretted the repeated mispronunciation of her name and the formatting of the review. Many of the things she mentioned in her comment were addressed later in my video, but I understand not watching an entire video to get the full perspective. That’s my failure as a writer, and I’ve since shifted my format. I’m thankful for her comment because it helped me understand how formatting my reviews in that way is often sabotaging the ultimate conclusion being made by my review. However, what I was stuck with is this idea that because I am transgender, I should have thought of the bigger picture and posted an overwhelmingly positive review of this film, despite how I actually felt about it. From my review of Fifty Shades to my review of Bottoms, I’ve always shared my honest feelings about a piece of media. I am not paid to promote these films, I critique them for a living.
She’s right; I could have been more complimentary of her performance as an actor. I think she did a great job with what she was handed, but I can also say that the project didn’t necessarily lend itself to demonstrating the depth of her acting chops. I’m glad she is acting, and I was super excited that she got this role and was the lead. But when I think of memorable acting from the movie and scenes that really made me feel something, I think mostly of her scene with Patricia Clarkson, who plays her mother, where she finally recognizes her. That scene made me cry. I think Trace Lysette did a good job, but I would have to watch the film again to find a specific performance from her that stood out to me as highlighting her talents as an actor. In situations like this, I wonder if I should keep my criticisms to myself, or should I treat queer media like I treat all pieces of media; as being open to criticism and examination. Should I have instead uploaded an overwhelmingly positive review about how excellent the film was and how great it was that a transgender woman was starring in it? I’m not sure I’ve ever really done that.
Frankly, a part of me was regretful for giving my time to create the review. I invested a lot of my time and money into creating it. I paid my editor and researcher and uploaded it while on vacation in San Francisco. I changed my hotel to get high-speed internet and uploaded the video to YouTube and Nebula. To be transparent, my review of this film is the lowest performing of all my recently published reviews, and it would have been easy for me not to do it. Still, I was rooting for Lysette and was determined to do it. Her comments are pregnant with this idea that my criticisms are shallow and uninformed and contribute to this film’s lack of positive reception. When I said “politics” earlier, this is what I meant. I pride myself on living a life where I have remained true to myself and my feelings.
I live a life informed by my radical decision to not live for others. I don’t “play the game” like many other creators do. And that’s perhaps why I’ve had fewer opportunities and don’t get invited to certain things. While that sucks, I know that I am, as my mother used to say, someone who can’t hold water. I’m not going to be a person who pretends something is great, so I get invited to certain things or included in certain groups. I look at my life now, a life very far from the conservative, vanilla, monogamous, normative life I once lived, and I know I’m happier for it. So, I suppose I don’t have the impulse to withhold my true feelings about something simply to gain favor or benefit a community I belong to. But I’m also someone who doesn’t want to hurt others. I don’t want my reviews to hurt more vulnerable people. And perhaps Trace Lysette, because she is transgender, is a more vulnerable person who should not be criticized as it may harm her.
I resent the impression some have, from conversations about oppression, that the work of an oppressed person should not be criticized. I resent it because I hear the upspeak and coddled tones in which certain people engage with me, and it doesn’t feel like I’m being respected as an equal but politely pandered to and othered. This draws a line between what I create and what others create, where I’m being given a participation trophy while others are being seriously considered for the award. It may satiate my latent desire to be celebrated but also ensures I’m always outside of the running. I have my thoughts about Monica because I treated it the way I treat every other film. Frankly, one of the reasons why I was surprised by the almost exclusively positive coverage is because it comes off, to me, like coverage by people not very invested in the film as a film. To be clear, I will be supporting the film and rooting for Trace Lysette’s win because I think it would be historic, and I’m excited to see trans women win, regardless, but I’m also not going to act like the only things I have to say about the film are positive. Monica is a film that takes itself very seriously, so I took it very seriously and responded with a thoughtful, multi-layered critique. I felt very connected to the film’s subject and wanted to support Trace Lysette, so out of respect, I didn’t dumb down my approach to mindlessly say “slaaaaaayyy” because of who’s in the film and what it’s about. To me, part of us increasing representation and visibility should be treating queer media the way we treat all media. Not making exceptions for it.
Ultimately, my review, which only reached 34k people, will not tip the scales in any meaningful direction for this project and I’m well aware that while I could have worded aspects of my review differently, I am no where near harsh or unforgiving. I think it’s completely possible to be critical of something while still liking and supporting it. I refuse to buy into the false dichotomy that says that my criticisms mean I do not want to see more films with transgender women as leads and that criticism of equates to a lack of success for the film. I’m just one person and just because I felt a certain way about the film, doesn’t mean other people won’t. I dislike so many things people absolutely love, and I didn’t dislike Monica, I just didn’t love it the way I wanted to. Monica is NOT a bad movie, and it’s a film that I firmly believe deserves award consideration. My review is the most viewed on YouTube as of now. It’s also one of my lowest performing videos of late. That isn’t a great indication of the buzz around this film. I guess I understand why Trace Lysette would comment on my video and express her disappointment with my review not being entirely positive, but I am liberating myself from the pressure to follow a particular narrative to maintain a specific line. If you haven’t seen Monica, it’s worth checking out, and I will be rooting for Trace Lysette to win because I know she’s worked incredibly hard for very little pay and recognition, and that’s worth supporting. But I look forward to her growth as an actor in future projects.
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Bridget Ziegler Probably Isn’t Attracted To Women: Unicorn Hunters and The Thrill of Homophobia
There’s an incredible amount of buzz around Bridget and Christian Ziegler’s scandalous three-way affair with an unnamed woman. Bridget Ziegler is one of the main architects behind the Parental Rights in Education Bill (otherwise known as the Don’t Say Gay Bill) and is a original founder of the conservative group, Moms For Liberty. Christian Ziegler is the current chairman for the GOP party in Florida. Together, they’ve both loudly condemned the LGBT community and described queer folks as “groomers”. So when it came out that Bridget and Christian Ziegler were engaged in a three-way with a woman who was mainly interested in having sex with Bridget, many people could not help but see the hypocrisy in them privately pursuing gay sex while condemning those who are out and proud. If you’ve been following the story online, you’ve most likely only heard that Bridget Ziegler was “in a relationship” with another woman. However, major news outlets tend to downplay that her husband is currently battling charges of sexual battery after he appeared at the unnamed woman’s home and sexually assaulted her. A search warrant revealed that Christian Ziegler had been trying to schedule a time for what would have been their second threesome; however, Christian would claim that his wife couldn’t make it anymore, and that’s when the unnamed woman revealed that she was mostly in it for Bridget, not Christian. The added context seems to suggest that the two women were in some way sexually involved. Of course, people are running with the narrative that Bridget Ziegler is a classic example of a conservative closet case who devotes an incredible amount of time to tearing down the LGBT community in her own life. While that’s still very much a possibility, I wanted to present what I believe is a far more likely scenario: that, like so many women, Bridget Ziegler is married to a man who fetishizes lesbian sex. That as an extension of the very conservative patriarchal structure of their relationship, she was likely participating in this threesome with a woman at the behest of her husband, not her actual desire to be with another woman.
Christian Ziegler has shown, through his assault, that he feels entitled to women’s bodies and does not honestly care about respecting, or even recognizing their boundaries. While I understand the allure of going along with the narrative that Bridget Ziegler is a self-loathing bisexual who can’t embrace herself, having observed many of these relationships, there’s a part of me that can’t help but point out how common it is for a very patriarchal man to pressure his straight partners to emulate lesbian sex for their pleasure. I find so many aspects of the Ziegler’s unicorn-hunting shenanigans to be terribly predictable. I wanted to unpack that in this post.
If you’re unfamiliar with “unicorns”, let me define them for you. Unicorns are famously elusive in mythology. So elusive that there were several methods rumored to lure and capture them. In this context, a “unicorn” is a person who enters into a relationship with a couple. They’re called unicorns because they are attracted to both partners. The idea is that a person like that is rare, just like the mythological creatures. Typically, you’ll hear the term “unicorn” being used to describe a woman who enters into a sexual relationship with a heterosexual couple where the woman in the couple is either bisexual or bi-curious. If you’re a sapphic woman who’s used any dating apps over the past few years, your matches were most likely full of these types of couples. You may have even started talking to a beautiful woman who would slowly reveal that she was married and had a husband interested in joining you and her in the bedroom (and most of the time, you were always talking to that husband, not the woman). We call these people “unicorn hunters,” and they tend to be frustrating because their interest in queer sex begins and ends with the man’s fetishism of lesbian sex. Quite frequently, the woman in the relationship is only “allowed” to sleep with women, and that woman must be attractive to the husband. The unicorn is a sex toy, assisting a couple in their fantasy fulfillment. And once sex toys break or no longer work the way they’re intended, they’re disposed of. Like the mythological creatures, those who capture unicorns often have to set elaborate traps. Sometimes, this trap looks like them pretending that they want to be in a full-fledged relationship with the unicorn, only to ghost them the moment they no longer have a use for them. Quite commonly, the trap is, as I described, a woman independently pursuing a woman only to later introduce a man. Unicorn hunters are often a “package deal” and if the wife is exploring her sexuality with women, she’s only allowed to do it if it sexually satisfies her husband. Many women who’ve played unicorns for a couple will attest that, so often, unicorn hunters are painfully callous and often quite abusive. Not every couple seeking a third are necessarily “unicorn hunters”. My disdain for unicorn hunters is their approach, not the desire to enjoy a threesome where a bisexual woman is able to explore her sexuality or even enjoy two partners at once. It’s that they so often do not remotely care who they’re harming as long as the threesome satiates the husband’s desire. And while it’s not impossible for these sorts of dynamics to “work”, they often crash and burn because of a an inevitable misalignment of attraction, desires and schedules. But if you’ve ever tried to have a threesome, you know they’re already a bit more complicated than you’d assume.
Christian Ziegler knew this unnamed woman for 20 years before they engaged in their first threesome a year before this incident. However, it seems as if the unnamed woman was only engaging in a sexual dynamic with Christian Ziegler as a way of getting to his wife, whom she was attracted to. That is pretty bog-standard in these dynamics. It’s common for a unicorn to agree to a threesome purely because she’s attracted to the other woman and may be more or less willing to tolerate the man if she gains access to the woman. If I’m being frank, the couples I see that can easily find unicorns equally attracted to both are the kind of couples who essentially look like siblings. They have similar body types, similar features, and similar vibes. You don’t commonly see this with most couples seeking this dynamic. It’s become a bit of a meme, but bisexual women are often attracted to an extensive range of women and a very narrow range of men. The man is typically more of an obstacle for most women who entertain unicorn hunters. That’s because, as the name implies, it’s fairly uncommon for a person to be attracted to both parties in a relationship, but this is what so many unicorn hunters want. So many women who entertain these couples grin and bear it because these relationships are often short-lived and as I said, they’re often presented as a package deal. This isn’t always the case, but unicorn hunters often approach women who are more openly and visibly queer. Still, the way they typically handle their relationship with these women is often steeped in homophobia. I know that for a lot of people, it’s hard for them to wrap their minds around someone being homophobic yet seemingly involved in relationships that are of a homosexual nature. However, homophobia is actually an incredibly present force in many of these dynamics.
I’ve been tangental to the swing community since 2008. We don’t know that the Zieglers are swingers, but the swing community is a great place to observe how homophobia presents itself in this specific dynamic. I’ve primarily participated in the heterosexual swing scene, and these events predominately cater to heterosexual couples seeking women interested in joining them sexually. Typically, swinging is when a couple swaps partners. However, these events often encourage single women to attend. As a single woman who gets hounded at these events, I know that the single woman is the ideal unicorn for many of these couples. These events often explicitly forbid men from engaging in sexual acts with each other, and I’m only generally allowed into these events because I “pass” and am legally female.
Swinger parties often have an intense air of homophobia because they cater overwhelmingly to cis-hetero men’s fantasies and desires. While I’m more than aware of the fact that some of those men may indeed be some shade of bisexual, there’s this clear awareness that this is not the place to express that. Men who want to engage with each other will be told this is not their kind of event and in some circumstances, are asked to leave the event entirely. You’d almost believe that they were afraid of catching the gay by the way these spaces often sharply and aggressively exclude queer men. Swinger events often have gendered pricing where couples get into the event at a reduced rate, and if single men are allowed (they often aren’t), they the most expensive ticket. I’ve been to some parties that will charge single men upwards of $600. The high rate is to encourage these men to come with partners and to discourage single, pushy, unaccompanied men. At most of these events, two men aren’t allowed to come as a “couple.” The men who come absolutely must arrive with a woman. Women typically get in for free, which means they’re also on the menu.
The attendance of women is essential to the economics of these events. You’d imagine that a space where women are encouraged to explore their sexuality would be full of queer women eagerly seeking sapphic relationships. However, in my years attending these events, I have never observed two women entering these events as a couple. And to be fair, why would they? These are spaces where men are largely fetishizing lesbian sex, and that’s going to be unappealing to most sapphic women in relationships with women that sharply exclude cis men. In these spaces, women are indeed commodities, and two women arriving together and playing with each other will be hounded by men trying to involve themselves. The events are often plastered with notions of “exploring bisexuality”. They are billed as spaces for women to freely and safely explore “their” sexuality. And yes, indeed, many of these women are doing that. However, most of it is done to appease the heterosexual male gaze. I’ve run into far too many heterosexual women who are only there to emulate lesbian sex for the pleasure of their husbands. Their desire matters very little, and they’d likely desire a different type of relationship if they were “allowed” to freely explore beyond the desires of their husbands.
When I first heard about the Ziegler’s relationship with this woman, it was presented as a fully-fledged three-way “relationship” akin to polyamory. A lot of what I read and heard was about Bridget’s supposed long-term relationship with the unnamed woman. However, it seems as though the two barely knew each other and only had a sexual interaction once a full year before her husband would assault the unnamed woman. A few things stood out to me as I was reviewing their messages.
As I said, threesomes are incredibly hard to organize because of a joint misalignment between desires and schedules. But if you want to make it happen, you’ll make it happen. Christian Ziegler messaged this woman early on the day they were supposed to meet, and the unnamed woman wasn’t near her phone because she had a day off and was enjoying some day drinking. Once she got to her phone, she confirmed a time around 2:12PM. Christian would then claim that Bridget was fully ready to go at 1:30PM, but wouldn’t be available 40 minutes later. That doesn’t at all sound like a person who was actually interested in having this threesome. Not much could have changed between 1:30PM and 2:12PM that would suddenly make this threesome unappealing to a person who wanted it. If schedules align, you jump at it. Sure, it may have been hard to get a solid schedule to plan around with her being unresponsive; however, if she was ready at 1:30PM and wanted to have this threesome, there’s no doubt in my mind that she’d be ready 40 minutes later. Frankly, I think there are two possibilities. Either Bridget was interested but pulled out at the last minute, or… she was never involved in the planning of this threesome, and Christian had always planned to have a one-on-one with her. Tragically, this is also incredibly common. Quite often, these men pursue threesomes with their wives as a way to justify sleeping with other women.
Again, this is a woman that Christian has known for 20 years. It wouldn’t surprise me if he saw the unnamed woman’s desire for his wife as a way for him to pursue someone he’s always been interested in pursuing. If he presents this woman he’s already interested in as a perfect person to add to their bedroom, he gets to have sex with her in a way that doesn’t technically violate the bounds of their monogamous relationship. Plenty of unicorn hunters consider themselves to be monogamous despite having sexual relations with others because they are pursuing people as a unit. Some men will get a whiff of their partner’s bisexuality and see that as an excuse to begin pursuing women independently. If they can present this woman as someone for both of them, it’s easier for them to get their partner to agree with them sleeping with another woman. The problem with this, however, is that many women are socialized to be agreeable and quite often feel as though if they want to hold onto their relationship, they need to tolerate this behavior and engage in these acts, not because they want to, but because they want to remain in their marriages or relationships.
This won’t surprise readers, but I am a weirdo. I go to swinger events primarily for their social aspect, and it’s some of the most top-tier people-watching. Often, this means I end up talking to these women about why they’re there and what they’re looking for. At these events, if you’re a woman, you are assumed to be bisexual. In fact, one of the strangest things about me being in these spaces is the fact that I am not attracted to women at all. But in these spaces, I often have to argue and debate with people about my sexuality, and sometimes in those conversations where I’m reiterating that I’m heterosexual, I’ll hear from some of those women, “So am I.” And some of these women I’ve quite literally seen participating in sexual activity with other women. Sure, maybe some of these women are self-loathing bisexuals who have yet to embrace themselves. I think that’s a high probability, but I also know that many of these women do not see what they’re doing as “really gay” because they are doing it with their husbands to please their husbands. Quite often, I will have conversations with these women where they can essentially justify their heterosexuality by implying that the interactions they have with women are almost objective and somewhat detached. There’s this distinct idea that they fool around with women casually on the side but would never actually be in a relationship with one, even if they were single. In some of those conversations, it’s clear that they find the idea of two women being in a relationship with each other almost laughable. And that’s why I remain so unsurprised by someone like Bridget Ziegler participating in these threesomes yet also being incredibly homophobic. For some people, gay relationships are inherently sexual because the only context in which queer relationships enter their purview is via their fetishism of them.
I started engaging in the swing scene in San Diego, which is much more conservative than where I grew up in the San Gabriel Valley, which is still quite conservative. I’ve lived in predominately conservative suburban areas for most of my life, and swingers were always very present, no matter where I lived. Swinger events tend to be quite expensive, so you’ll more commonly run into politically conservative people who occasionally dip their toes into less-than-conservative things. Much of this relates to the secrecy that tends to go hand in hand with swinger spaces. There is this decided idea that what happens in these spaces stays in these spaces. So these are the spaces where you will indeed find homophobic people engaging in acts that would be considered homosexual to most people. The Zieglers did not intend for any of this to actually get out, and I have no doubt that Christian Ziegler, not Bridget, was likely the driving force for this dynamic. That’s fairly easy to parse because the unnamed woman said she was mostly in it for Bridget, and he would appear on security cameras at her home by himself a mere 5 minutes after the victim sent that text. He would meet her in front of her apartment, where he would find her intoxicated after a full day of drinking. He’d let himself into her home and would rape her without a condom, leaving a mere 20 minutes after he arrived. He didn’t care that she wasn’t interested. He didn’t care about her sexual health. He didn’t care about her boundaries at all. Again, this is fairly typical of unicorn hunters, who often see the unicorns as sex toys that exist to please them.
In this post, I don’t mean to imply that only men push for these types of relationships. I objectively know that isn’t true and that sometimes women are capable of doing the same exact thing as men. However, in all my years of coming to these events, I have not met many incredibly enthusiastic women partnered with men just going along for the ride, engaging in things they don’t want to do to satisfy her. When we have this discussion, we cannot ignore the immense pressure of patriarchy. While this wasn’t the case for Bridget, many women I’ve known from these scenarios are in situations where leaving their husbands would come at a significant cost. Sometimes, they’re stay-at-home moms who’ve given up their careers to be homemakers. Often, the women in these scenarios have been pressured by society to put their needs last. So many women are raised to follow their husbands, be agreeable, and think lastly about themselves and what they want. Some women have low self-esteem, and some men bank on that to justify their actions. Being in the scene for as long as I have, I’ve watched these women build themselves up, eventually leave their husbands, and ultimately have no interest in returning to the scene. I’ve also seen women who, similar to my own experience, once had a somewhat unhealthy relationship with these spaces and then returned with a new sense of autonomy. Eventually, they enjoy themselves immensely because they’re finally doing it to please themselves, not their husband. There are far too many people participating in these dynamics for reasons other than their own sexual happiness.
The unfortunate reality is these dynamics are often ruined by homophobia and neglecting the desires of the wives in these scenarios. A husband and wife can enjoy a threesome with a woman where the two women are involved, not because it pleases him but because it pleases the women involved. But part of that happening is generally the husband respecting that she can have desires and attractions independent of him. That much like he has the ability to look at other people and find them sexually desirable, so does she. These relationships often crash and burn because, so often, a woman’s desire comes second to a man’s fetishism.
So commonly, the woman introduced into the relationship is not a woman she’s actually attracted to. Quite frequently, the bisexual wife is attracted to a woman the husband isn’t attracted to. However, she’s not “allowed” to pursue that relationship because it doesn’t satisfy him. If she ever, like him, had a desire to pursue new partners along more heteronormative lines, that would be a problem. As I said, often, the woman is only “allowed” to sleep with women. Specifically, women the man is attracted to. There’s this prevalent idea that any third party introduced into the relationship must be someone who sexually satisfies the man in the relationship. So baked into this dynamic is the idea that the wife’s sexual desire must always come second to the husband’s. So many of these couples are only in the swinger club as a last-ditch effort to save their dead bedroom, which, of course, is almost always presented as her fault. Once you dig a bit deeper, though, you discover that one of the fundamental reasons they’re no longer having sex is because he is utterly disinterested in activities that would sexually satisfy her. When adding to their bedroom, these women are rarely “allowed” to pursue relationships with men or women they’re actually attracted to because that doesn’t satisfy their husbands. I find that couples who can thrive while pursuing additional sexual partners will eventually reach the point where they realize that their love for each other is so deep and so fundamental that they actually become incredibly excited by the idea of their partner reaching sexual happiness. They disconnect from ego and territorial patterns and revel in the idea that someone they love is having a good time. Unfortunately, because of our monogamous programming, many people really struggle to reach that point. You may ask yourself why I go to these events if things like this happen. I keep going back because those people who’ve reached that point have a beautiful, emotionally deep air about them. I’ve gained a lot from being around those people and processing my reservations about sharing my partners. Those people have become part of my “tribe,” so to speak, and they’re great company. That’s why I attend these events and tend to mainly socialize. It’s a massive concentration of people who’ve developed emotional depth around non-monogamy. But there are still plenty of Zieglers in the room.
As I said, Bridget Ziegler may indeed be a closet case who smears the LGBT community in her daily life as a way to cope with her own homosexual feelings. Still, knowing what I know, the idea that she was in a whole relationship with a woman does seem a bit far-fetched. Homophobic men have always fetishized lesbian sex, and there’s no doubt in my mind that if the Zieglers get what they want, and LGBT folks are entirely removed from public life, they will still fetishize lesbian sex. This isn’t the gotcha that some think it is.
I don’t have an ounce of sympathy for Bridget Ziegler because of the environment she and her husband have created for queer folks in Florida. Still, it’s imperative to point out that many women in these dynamics are indeed triangulated into them and that homophobia is a large and present force in many of these dynamics. There’s a massive difference between a couple sexually exploring in an honest, ethical, and mutual way and what I so commonly see. The way these couples use, abuse, groom, and manipulate unicorns reeks of homophobia, and I’d almost argue that for some of these people, homophobia is what gets them off. For some of these men, it’s exciting to pressure their otherwise heterosexual partners into things that are less than heterosexual for their own pleasure. If that’s the scenario, we shouldn’t use this dynamic as a gotcha. It’s just a continuation of the homophobia they express in their daily lives.
If you’d like to hear more about some of the lived experiences of unicorns and understand their positive and negative experiences, please check out the episode of my podcast where I interviewed several people who’ve been unicorns for couples.
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Hiding Your Transness Long-term isn’t Realistic…
Dating is complicated when you’re transgender and for trans women who date men, you find yourself in a lot of scenarios where a man’s attraction to you is based almost entirely on whether or not your body falls into a specific range. If you’ve just come out as trans, a lot of the heterosexual men are going to be disinterested in you because you don’t “pass” for one reason or another. Maybe it’s the shape of your face, your lack of breast development, or even your overall aura. You can easily get the impression that once your body has changed enough, the reasons why a heterosexual man would reject you will suddenly become, at least to you, a moot point. So, you may feel that once you reach a certain point, there isn’t a real reason to tell anyone that you’re transgender. A lot of transgender women fantasize about reaching that day t where they no longer have to have that conversation. Where people perceive them properly as their gender and no longer have a reason to reject them.. But, as a trans woman, I’ve found that this aspiration is just that, a fantasy.Nicole Sanders and Justin Moldova are in a fascinating relationship in this most recent season of 90 Day Fiancé. Nicole had gender-affirming bottom surgery when she was around 20 years old, a good near-decade before she met Justin. For two years, they were in a relationship where they quite often had very passionate sex. The only problem was Justin didn’t know that Nikki was transgender, and he wouldn’t find out until they got into an argument one day where Nikki would finally tell him. Nikki wanted to find a cheap way to hurt his feelings and shift his paradigm, so she yelled, “I used to be a man” at the height of an argument. Justin was only 19 at the time, Nikki was 30. This news dramatically shifted Justin’s feelings about the relationship, and he left Nikki to return to his country, Moldova.
As I’ve started publishing content discussing their relationship, I keep running into the argument that Nikki had no reason to tell him she was transgender because she’s post-op and it doesn’t matter. Furthermore, Justin is “rude” for feeling “traumatized” by this experience and the idea that his feelings shifted after receiving this information is simply transphobia that should not be validated. When I read these comments, it’s hard for me not to interpret that some of these people have not been in long-term relationships as transgender people or they aren’t really in a position where they “pass” and are thus in situations where their transness is something to tell. I feel that way because, like I said, being in a relationship where this never comes up is a bit of a fantasy that doesn’t align with reality.
I know that this may be a bit confusing for some, but even with my large online following, I am still pretty regularly in situations where people do not know that I’m trans. When I was “stealth” in my 20s, keeping that secret was more of an active decision. I was incredibly aware of what I looked like, how I came across, and how I was being seen. For me, stealth was survival, which meant that the way I carefully curated myself not to seem transgender was, in so many ways, life or death. Mind you, we’re talking about the late 2000s and early 2010s. Our society had less understanding of who transgender people were, and I was “passable,” so I decided to make my life easier by keeping that information to myself. And guess what? It worked. I got a lot of upward mobility because passing allowed me to enter certain rooms and make specific connections. As I pursued a more public career as an out trans person, I let go of the idea of stealth, but I still quite regularly find myself in situations where people weren’t able to put two and two together to figure it out. It isn’t intentional for me these days, but no one can say I’m hiding it, and for me that’s been very liberating, when compared to how things used to be.
When I was younger, I did a bit of “stealth” dating. Which, for me, meant that I went on a handful of dates with men who didn’t know that I was transgender. These were often men I met online who found themselves taken with me. Ironically, the thing a lot of men appreciated about me at the time was how straightforward and definite I was about what I was looking for. What was I looking for at the time? a long-term, monogamous relationship that could lead to marriage and family. I had this idea that if I kept my transness to myself, these guys would end up loving me so much that they really couldn’t justify not being in a relationship with me. I imagined that love would conquer all and that maybe they’d put aside their desires to be with a cis woman to be with me because of how much they loved me. But so many of these relationships ended the same way. Ultimately, these men felt hurt by the fact that I didn’t tell them, and for some of them it wasn’t even because I was trans. It was because I intentionally kept something from them. How can they trust I wouldn’t do that with other things? Sometimes, these men really did like me. They really were attracted to me and would absolutely have loved to date me, but they could not stomach that I was transgender and realized that despite having the same life plans, my transness made pursuing those plans a bit more complicated.
In my video, I said that it’s in a trans person’s best interest to disclose to their partners that they are transgender and that got a fair bit of pushback. I understand why some people feel that way. Some view the rejection of a transgender person “because” they’re transgender as a form of transphobia. As we’ve discussed on this blog a few times, I do not feel that way for a few reasons. However, the overarching reason I think this way is because I believe in saving my time. Going on dates with men who didn’t know I was transgender was a waste of time. It made sense to me at the time because I was dealing with the very bizarre reality that if men knew I was transgender, they decided to limit the type of relationship we had, often just to sex in private. Or they’d avoid taking me to certain places out of paranoia. Stealth dating allowed me to feel, at the time, that these men were treating me the way they’d treat cis women. Maybe for some men, that was true, but I figured out pretty quickly that men who disrespect trans women don’t often suddenly have mountains of respect for cis women. Yes, some of these men will mistreat you and say that they’re doing so because you’re transgender, but that’s an excuse. A man’s misogyny doesn’t shift based on whether the person is trans or cis. That’s one thing stealth dating truly taught me. Some men think they can get away with more when you’re trans, but those men are rarely more respectful of cis women.
I think the very harsh reality is that when you’re transgender, dating will always be complicated. However, I’ve found it to be a lot less complicated the more comfortable I’ve been with myself. One of the most blaring issues in Nikki and Justin’s relationship is that they have a very different set of values. As a trans woman who raised conservatively, watching their relationship is interesting to me because I know there’s a part of me that could be in a relationship with a much more traditional man. But that part of me is less confident. It’s the part of me that feels very comfortable standing behind a man and allowing him to decide everything for me. It’s the part of me that doesn’t mind shifting myself and becoming more modest to satisfy the desires of my partner. The part of me that was comfortable making myself smaller for a man. The part of me that was stealth and very comfortable with that. But I’ve been there, and I wasn’t happy. Almost a decade later, I’m so happy I never married that guy.
When I first started dating my ex, a liberal dude from a conservative town, his family didn’t know that I was transgender. In retrospect, when I was eventually outed to his family, our relationship only went downhill. Suddenly, his family wasn’t as warm and welcoming. I sat quietly in the corner for most of our family gatherings, and things were always on a fragile thread. His father was a conservative cop who listened to Rush Limbaugh and Fox News very loudly in his garage. I became very aware of the fact that his parent’s perception of a transgender woman was not positive. Suddenly, I was incredibly invested in ensuring that I contradicted their assumptions. It created this air where I’d become the stereotype if I ever stepped out of line. Mind you, it was already an issue that I was black. After I broke up with him, he dated other trans women, and one of those women contacted me to vent about the relationship. He had apparently become far less comfortable with openly dating trans women. While I didn’t notice it, his need for his partners to “pass” was pretty intense, and she felt those standards quite harshly because her appearance was why he was not open about dating her. I was shocked to hear this because I wouldn’t have assumed he felt that way, but in retrospect, it shouldn’t have surprised me.
Justin is led by his insecurities the way many conservative men are. Nikki’s larger-than-life persona is off-putting because he wants a modest woman who cooks, cleans, and is submissive. While they’re trying to make this square peg fit into a round hole, they will both have to compromise to mesh with each other. You have to do that if you’re in a relationship like this. With that compromise will come a loss of identity. Nikki very clearly loves being Nikki Exxotica, a vivacious, cartoon-esc, sexy pop star, but she’d have to change that in order to maintain a long-term relationship with Justin, who is more attracted to women who are quieter and meeker. Compromise is common in relationships, but for the transgender woman, the compromise is almost always to be less public, be less seen, be more feminine, and be quieter. Some trans women will be able to accept that, but I learned long ago that wasn’t the life for me. I don’t think it’s the life for her either.
Nikki and Justin have a lot of very obvious incompatibilities, but one of the reasons I believe Nikki remains in this relationship is that the optica of Justin are very validating to her as a transgender woman. He’s a heterosexual man who’s never been with a transgender woman. He’s a conservative white man with a traditional approach to relationships and there’s something very intoxicating for a transgender woman about being with a man like that: A man who’d never be with a man. Some trans women feel that if a man knows you’re transgender and approaches you, that makes him a “chaser”. A “chaser” is a guy who fetishizes transgender women. If you’re a trans woman who’s ever used a dating app or simply openly spoken about yourself as trans, you’ve met these guys. They’re often preoccupied on your transition and are often focused on your genitalia. A lot of them will lose interest in you when you have bottom surgery and can no longer fulfill their sexual fantasy. These men rarely want anything serious with a transgender woman and I know there’s something particularly intoxicating to Nikki about the fact that this guy proposed to her and decided to pursue a relationship with her. She likely feels that Justin is more genuine in his desire because he didn’t know that she was transgender and, before he found out, wanted to marry her. When you’re trans, the idea that a man could fall in love with you while knowing that you’re trans feels like a long shot, but if I’m being honest… that hasn’t been my own experience since I left these small conservative towns for the city.
Yes, being out as trans often comes with all of the issues I’ve described and then some, but I have found that as I became more social, men came to me pretty easily. Sure, some of these men aren’t interested in me once they know that I’m transgender, but I’d say most of them are, at the bare minimum, still interested in getting to know me. I went from being stealth to virtually requiring that men I dated had experience with trans women or were very confident about their attraction to trans women. I don’t like wasting my time and men who are inexperienced or typically not attracted to trans women can only offer me their hesitation and doubt. I completely understand Nikki’s frustration with Justin potentially not being sexually attracted to her. It can be anxiety-inducing to feel that someone you love isn’t attracted to you. However, it’s a bed she made for herself. She decided to keep the information from him, which means he wasn’t really ever given the chance to know exactly what he was getting into. So now, after the fact, he has to process that she kept something from him for 2 years, and even if he fully accepts Nikki as a woman, he now has to ask himself if his relationship with her reflects a certain way on his sexuality. And sure, you can say that what he’s processing is his own internalized transphobia, but who cares? Whether it’s phobia or not, it’s a position he has to process because we don’t live in a society that has gotten to the point where everyone accepts that not all women are cis. So, for most men in his position, there’s a bit of processing that will have to take place. Personally, I have a deep disdain for this process of processing because it puts me in a position where someone could be so into me, but not my body. It really sucks to know that someone likes you, but can’t accept you. And it sucks for you to be in a position where you feel you have to beg for their acceptance or show you aren’t like what they may have assumed. You end up being in a position where hard not internalize the idea that your transness is a problem. That acceptance will only come once you change yourself enough to make them comfortable. My transness is part of my history, and I cannot put myself in a position where my relationship is made or broken for things that I can’t change.
Realistically, the only way for you to maintain a long-term relationship with someone who has absolutely no idea that you’re transgender is to first “pass” as cis, and then distance yourself physically from almost every person who’s ever known you who could know that you’re trans. Your transness doesn’t need to be all-encompassing and all-defining. It can be a footnote that doesn’t impact your daily life. But it will always be part of your history. It’ll be a part of how your family and friends remember you. It’s part of the timeline of your life and if you’re building an intimate relationship with someone; one where you’d potentially meet their family and friends and they’d meet yours, it’s just not realistic to think it will never come up.
Ignore all of the arguments about how you’re obligated to tell someone simply because they’re attracted to you. Ignore those arguments that say you owe men your entire medical history because they looked in your direction. Think more about saving your time. Think more about the pure intimacy and love you receive from that person who truly knows you. A man who accepts your past but loves who you are today. Who understands that while your path may have been different, it is just as valid. So much of the feelings trans women have about not sharing that information with men is based in the idea that straight men don’t typically date trans women or couldn’t potentially understand or be attracted to them. And in all reality, that’s become less and less of a reality. More and more men are opening themselves up to dating transgender women. Personally, I’ve not found it to be very hard to find men who were open to dating me. Perhaps it’s who I surround myself with and the city I currently live in, but I’d say when I tell men, about 80% absolutely do not care.
Having been in many closets throughout my life, I haven’t found them conducive to living a life where I feel happy and seen, even as a trans person who doesn’t wave a pink, white, and blue flag, who still struggles wearing pronoun pins, being out as trans has been one of the most productive things I could have done for my romantic life. The security I feel knowing that my partners are entirely on board with me cannot compare to the passing positive feelings I felt during stealth dating. Knowing that the love they have for me isn’t conditional is massive. Because I once thought it was impossible for me to find, I have a lot of sympathy for those like Nikki who still feel like the most secure relationship they can have is one that doesn’t start with transparency. My romantic life has changed very dramatically since I started looking at my transness as something people need to accept early on. I no longer have those “I just can’t do it” conversations that send me down a path of self-loathing. I never want my transness to be held over my head, so I don’t put myself in those positions. Most of my partners are men who didn’t know I was trans at first but who stayed with me once they knew. I befriended them for a bit, and I only told them after understanding their politics, feeling mutual attraction, and knowing they could receive that information without reacting violently. I understand things should be different, and I wish they were. Until then, I think it makes a lot of sense for trans women, especially, to be incredibly discerning when it comes to their partners. Not only for their safety but so they do not end up in relationships where their partners do not accept them and use that against them.
I hope it works out for them.
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