Sexual Roleplay, Gaydar, and “OK, I’ll Bite”
by A Queer Chick
I’m a queer dyke who’s been dating a string of trans men lately, some of whom pass really well in public. It’s nice to know that in queer circles, we’re largely read as queer, but sometimes I get all stomach-clenched when I know we’re read as straight in the mainstream world. I’m proud of being queer, but I’d never want my lover to sacrifice an ounce of what he’s worked so hard to do. How do I reconcile this?
Spoiler alert: This answer is going to disappoint you. Because, basically, there is no answer. Dykes who get it up for transmasculinity — and I am among that number — have been struggling with this question since, I don’t know, definitely before the word “transmasculinity” was invented. And no one has solved it yet.
It’s awesome that the queer community you’re a part of, and the guys you date, respect your right to define yourself as queer. Those are the first two major hurdles right there. Convincing your straight friends and family to accept that you’re still a big ole homo, even though you get it on with dudes, will be more challenging. Convincing random people on the street may be nigh impossible.
Just how challenging it will be is gonna depend a lot on your own preferred gender presentation. If you’re already somewhat (or very) femme, then you’ve probably been struggling with this issue for a while — unless you have a crew cut or a Harley, most people’s default is to perceive you as straight. Ladies who fall closer to the butch end of the spectrum will have an easier time being read as queer, but as a result will often face a lot more bullshit in their public lives. This is a sucky trade-off. But it is very unlikely that we’re going to find the solution to femme invisibility in an advice column, so instead, at this point, let me offer you my first piece of actual advice: Maybe try looking a little more stereotypical. I know. I KNOW. You’re disappointed, right? I told you. But if you want people to read you as queer, a shorter haircut and some skinny jeans and Converse might act as your reader’s guide.
Obviously, if that doesn’t match up with the way you see yourself, you don’t want to erase your own identity in order to become Miss Dyke Cliché 2011. In the absence of rainbow jewelry or an Indigo Girls tattoo, random people you pass on the sidewalk are probably not going to read you as queer, but who gives a fuck what they think, really? There are still things you can do to reinforce your identity to the people close to you. You can use language associated with the queer community, like “my partner” instead of “my boyfriend.” Most importantly, whenever the topic comes up, you can remind your friends and family that you are still queer. That it’s not something you’ve “gotten over” or “given up.” That they don’t necessarily have to understand it, but they have to respect it.
The one thing you cannot do — and I’m not saying you have, but I feel like it’s important to mention — is out your boyfriend. If your queer friends are giving you a hard time about dating a dude, for instance, it may be tempting to respond with “Yeah, well, I’m still getting more pussy than you are, so.” Do not do this. Unless you have had a serious conversation with your gentleman caller regarding who’s allowed to know what about his situation (and I’m using “situation” both as a euphemism for junk and in its more literal sense), just keep your mouth shut. If you’re progressing toward or are already in a serious long-term relationship, you’re going to want to have that conversation anyway. You may find that he’s comfortable being out as trans, you may find that trans visibility is important to him and he actually wants you to tell people, and you may find that he really, really wants you to keep it to yourself. Whatever his requirements, you need to respect them. And you two can work together to figure out a way for you to keep your identity without forcing him to compromise his.
What’s the deal with “gaydar”? I’ve heard rumors that members of the LGBT community can identify other members with some sort of secret code: A special handshake, knowing glances, pheromones, echo location, etc. Can you teach me the secret code, or is it something you just know intuitively?
Dear straight people, I’m going to tell you something that the Strategies of Lesbianism Convention doesn’t want you to know: There is no such thing as gaydar. We do not have a little device implanted in our ears that beeps whenever there’s a fellow homo in the room. If that were the case, lesbians would no longer have to spend their time wondering whether Katherine Moennig is or isn’t, and as a result we would have like 30% fewer topics of conversation at parties.
What we do have is a learned, not instinctive, ability to recognize certain cultural signifiers. Some of them are easy, like the crew cut and Harley look mentioned in the previous answer (and p.s., swoon). Some are more difficult to define: body language, mannerisms, a certain way of speaking. These characteristics are not intrinsic. We might acquire them in childhood, through identifying with a gender other than our own — plenty of femme dudes and butch girls internalize their gender-transgressive behaviors early on and can’t shake them no matter how hard they try. We might also pick them up from the larger queer community, to mark ourselves as part of it. All these things are shaped by cultural and gender norms, and so is our ability to recognize them, even if that recognition comes so easily that it feels like intuition. If someone’s dearest dream is to eat pussy, but she was raised by wolves and has never actually met another lesbian, you won’t be able to pick her out of a police lineup.
And sometimes what people refer to as “gaydar” is just the result of rumors or wishful thinking. “I heard she made out with my best friend’s roommate’s ex at a dyke bar one time” is not the same as gaydar. “I have a crush on her and she just has to be queer or I’ll throw myself off the roof” isn’t either. If her tongue is down your throat that’s a pretty good indication (I mean, after you get out of college). But if you, as a straight person, want to acquire an accurate sense of gaydar, the only way to go about that is to hang out with a lot of queers. Which, really: why wouldn’t you?
Ok, I’ll bite — what IS the appeal of a strap on blow job? To either party?
Um, for starters, please don’t bite. Obviously the dildo can’t feel it, but still, unless your lover explicitly tells you otherwise, that is not an attractive look.
Okay, so what’s fun about getting head while packing? It’s hard to quantify the sexual appeal of anything that’s not “an attractive person stimulating your genitals with parts of his or her own body,” but some things are just hot, even without direct physical contact. I’m sure there are things other than fucking that you find appealing. Your lover getting undressed, slowly? A hot girl pouting while applying lip gloss? A butch with wrench in hand bent over her motorcycle? (Is this column developing a theme? Ah, spring. When a young dyke’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of bikers.) We’re visual creatures; the sight of something that looks kind of like sex makes our brains go, “Hey, sex!” And because our brains are endlessly helpful, they provide us with boners, to assist in the sex that they are now certain is imminent.
To be more specific: If you have lady parts, and someone is going down on you, it is kind of hard to see what they’re doing. There are obstacles in the way, including (unless you are very slender) your own breasts and stomach, and even if you’re super-skinny your pelvis kind of blocks the view. So pretty much all you can see when you look down is the top of your lover’s head. Whoo, sexy. Obviously there are aspects of oral sex that more than make up for this particular downside, but sometimes, for the sake of foreplay, you want more of a show. With a strap-on, you can see every detail of what your girlfriend’s mouth is doing, and she can look straight up and meet your eyes while she’s doing it. What’s not to like about that? On the giving end, it can be about as simple as “if it turns your lover on, it’s hot.” But it can also be rife with sexy power-exchange and gender role transgression. It’s easy to imagine how sucking cock can be an act of submission, but you could also flip that around — say, tying your girlfriend up and teasing her ruthlessly by making her watch.
Basically, strap-on blow jobs are good clean fun and an awesome form of foreplay. If you’re curious but unconvinced, why not give it a try yourself? After all, ’tis the season — Steak and Blow Job Day is March 14th!
My girlfriend and I really get off on this roleplay where we pretend I’m a straight girl she’s pressuring into having sex. It’s all good and consensual when we’re in bed, but lately she’s wanted me to stay really femme, even in public. That’s not me, and I don’t like it, but she’s threatened to take away the super-hot sex if I don’t comply.
That’s kind of icky — you know that, right? I don’t mean the roleplay itself, I just mean the lengths to which she’s pressuring you to take it. Your straight-girl act is something you do during sex, so basically what she’s saying is that if you want to have sex with her at all, you have to be willing to have sex with her all the time. And I’m sorry, but your foreplay does not belong in the grocery store (no matter what you do with those cucumbers when you get home).
Have you had a serious talk with your girlfriend about how she’s making you feel? I know it’s challenging when she’s trying to initiate sexy times, and you’re like, “Baby, can we have a heavy, non-sexy conversation about the implications of what we’re doing?” and she’s like, “Oh, my shirt came unbuttoned, what were you saying?” and you’re like, “What huh I wasn’t saying anything.” But, some time that is very separate from getting it on, you need to sit down with her and discuss this. Start by explaining that it’s really uncool for her to use sex as a bargaining chip, and remind her that if she withholds boning from you, she will also go unboned. Since you’re obviously both getting something out of your role-playing, it’s stupid of her to act like it’s something she’s doing for you, as a favor that can be canceled at any time. Everyone’s getting off. Why would she want to change that?
After that, tell her exactly why you’re uncomfortable. Which you didn’t get into all that much, but I think I can guess: She started dating you because she liked who you are, but now she wants you to play a character more and more often. You’re fine with that in bed, but when she’s asking you to wear skirts all the time it starts to make you feel like you’re not really what she wants. Am I on the right track? At this point, she will in all likelihood be falling all over herself to reassure you that she loves the person you are and she doesn’t want you to be someone else. (If she really does want you to be someone else, all day every day, then I’m really sorry, and also, she sucks. Get rid of her.) Chances are she’s just getting carried away by the hotness of the sex you’ve been having, and when you clue her in to how the 24/7 role-playing is making you feel, she’ll realize she’s been a jackass and apologize.
Finally, if it wouldn’t make you too uncomfortable, maybe you could offer her a compromise? When you’re at the video store or having dinner with friends, you’re you, and you act like yourself. But once in a while — maybe on her birthday, or your anniversary, or just because you feel like doing something nice for her — you get dolled up in your fanciest dress, put on some lipstick, and go to a bar on the other side of town where there’s no chance of running into someone you know. Let her pick you up, bring you home, and recruit the living hell out of you. If she’s any kind of girlfriend, she’ll be thrilled and grateful for the opportunity to live out her fantasies, but she’ll be even more appreciative that she gets to wake up next to the real you in the morning.
Previously: Queer Credentials, Reverse Crushes, and a Handy How-To.
A Queer Chick is a queer chick who knows everything. Do you have a question for A Queer Chick?