thoughts on nonvanilla sexual politics posted: Tue 2019-01-01 07:10:06 tags: n/a
Woman's Day: We divorced because crossdressing flipped our switches in opposite directions

It's always a temptation for me to over-explicate as if I was writing for an audience. Part of the purpose of my blogging, if I scratch deep enough, is in preparation for realizing my teen dream of writing for an audience. This often interferes with the other, more immediate purpose, which is to process my day-to-day thoughts the best way I know how. Today is one of those days.

My sexuality crystallized in adolescence around the accessories of the sex-fashion magazines of the era: Playboy being the "softest". Unfortunately the intersection of functional independence and classic feminine style has been a rare one in my life, by which I mean the femmyest women also tended to be bratty or simply incapable. And why not? I would rather lounge in comfy, worn sweats and oversize t-shirts than play Ken-doll macho fashion plate, so it's not fair to expect or demand a partner play lingerie Barbie dress-up just to keep my kettle simmering, right?

For probably 15 years or more, it's been an on-and-off backburner desire to get special piercings. For a long time I didn't because it seemed like a particularly frivolous expense; plus I met resistance from just about every partner. Because I partner with women. I am drawn to their femininity. Something like 8 or 10 years ago, 2 of my female coworkers were chatting about what they find attractive in their men, and I happened by, and they jokingly asked how I like my men. I said "same way I like my women... soft and feminine". There's an important truth revealed in this banter - I know that even if I felt a burning motivation toward transitioning and presenting as a woman, embracing a classically feminine role and style... like Gandalf's balrog, I would not pass. So if I chose a same-sex partner I would still need them carry the relationship's feminine essence that I don't. It would have to be a daddy-ladyboy dynamic, not a butch-butch one.

So my attraction to women is specifically for their fulfillment of a Jungian archetype of femininity ingrained since my childhood and manifested in silks, lace, and sexual initiative marked by invitation rather than pursuit.

The flip side of this is, the sexuality of most women of my time and place was crystallized to respond to an equally Jungian archetype of masculinity, marked by a palette of hairstyles, clothing styles, accessories, scents, occupations and pastimes. I don't find tomboy fashion sexually attractive on women, so why would they find sissy-femme accessories sexy on me? So I'm pretty sure that's where the partner resistance to my piercing ideas stems from. Real men's breasts aren't sexualized, and they certainly don't get their nonsexualizable nipples pierced. Pierced cock or scrotum, maybe. The archetype of Real Man is moderately hairy and padded with at least a little muscle. Even if a woman says she doesn't dig the bodybuilder aesthetic, she probably responds to a solid broad-shouldered triangularity. Twiggy men may project a certain professorish intellectual attraction, but that's a different archetype with its own niche of sexual dynamics.

These are not particularly new thoughts for me, though I've never dressed them up for blog-publication that way before. So, with these thoughts fully-formed, when I happened across the Woman's Day article what jumped out immediately to me was the author's casual observation that she was coming to bed in sloppy sweats and T's, not the silky frills and strappy constraints that her man hungered for; a hunger that it apparently didn't even occur to her to feed by taking it on herself to wearing strategic choices of silk and lace to bed. Sadly, the article doesn't say the couple did or didn't at least try to compromise by shifting the girly accessories from him to her. And it's totally realistic that many die-hard crossdressers wouldn't be energized, or as responsive, with that accessory shift anyway.