I’ve never actually participated in a #Kinkoftheweek before (and honestly I think I might be a little late, but the topic this week is one I decided I really wanted to write about. The topic this week is anal sex.
I wrote a guest post for Girl on the Net last year which ended with the line ‘Sometimes learning to love your body means finding a way to engage with it that hurts you least.’ I’ve been thinking about that a lot, about how I’ve had to learn and re-learn how to have sex that doesn’t make me dysphoric, about the processes of learning and unlearning themselves, and about the actual acts themselves that I’ve learnt have made me more comfortable.
And the first act I discovered helped my dysphoria was anal play
I think for a while anal was one of the things I assumed I wasn’t “allowed” to do. I internalised the politics of marketability, and assumed that the only reason somebody would want to have sex with me was because they wanted to have sex involving my vagina, or that the novelty of my vagina was the only thing I had to “offer” to “make up” for not having a penis. Both of which are incredibly harmful and damaging ways of thinking, and not true at all. But it took me time to learn that.
I like anal because I have a complicated relationship with my vagina. I don’t particularly like it. I don’t hate it either, but not enough to not knowing that I’m going to get rid of it at some point in the future. I don’t like the assumption that I am or should be happy to have vaginal sex. I don’t like having my vagina touched a lot of the time. And I especially don’t like feeling like somebody is having sex with me because of my vagina. I still sometimes do like the feeling of vaginal penetration, but it’s something that takes a lot of trust, something I’m happy to do with other trans people or those I’m in a relationship with, but not something on the table for hookups with cis people.
The first time I did anal play was actually something I did by myself though, something I did entirely in the context of experimenting with how I interacted with my own body. I came armed with latex gloves, a bottle of Sliquid, and a tiny tiny buttplug. And I slowly worked my way up to that plug, a finger first, and then two, and then the plug. I didn’t touch my dick or my other anatomy at all during the process, but when the plug was in, I finally reached a hand down and found my cunt was dripping wet.
I felt like I’d found the holy grail, like finally I’d found a kind of sex that worked for me, that could always work for me. And then I brought up the idea of anal sex with my boyfriend at the time, tentatively asked him if he’d like to try it. So we tried it, and I hated it.
Sometimes first times are awkward and messy, and not like we build them up to be in our heads, and that’s okay. The fact that the first time I tried anal with another person didn’t end well doesn’t mean that it isn’t a good kind of sex, or even that wasn’t right for me. Because I’ve found it since that it is a kind of sex I enjoy, that it makes me feel masculine and sexy, that I can find it filthy and glorious or intimate and sweet, and that I love both those experiences equally.
I love bottoming for anal and I love topping for anal. My favourite hookups are the ones where I’m wearing my harness under my clothes, and get my partner to choose the cock they want me to fuck them with from my storage boxes or the bag I’ve brought with me. I love fucking people in the ass, I love watching them stretched out on me, love that I can fuck them with a cock that’s just right for their body, love I can give them everything I can until they’re satisfied. It’s not always an expression of dominance and often it isn’t- I love topping for anal in a vanilla context or a submissive context just as much as when I’m dominant. Fucking people in the ass- and especially fucking other men in the ass- gets me off, but it also makes me feel right about my body. It makes me feel right in my body.
Is the fact I feel more validated as a man when I bottom for anal than vaginal sex problematic? Is the fact I feel more validated as a man when topping far more then when I’m bottoming for PiV problematic? Yes, absolutely. It carries a huge amount of weight in terms of cissexism, and if I’d grown up in a less cissexist society, I likely wouldn’t feel as validated by these actions. But I did grow up in a cissexist society, and as a friend explained to me through the wonderful metaphor of oxygen masks on planes, it’s okay for me to put my oxygen mask on before helping others. It’s okay for you to fasten your mask securely before helping anyone else.
Finding some way to deal with the dysphoria that has a huge negative impact on my mental health should come before critically analysing the things that make me less dysphoric. Not everything I do needs to be revolutionary or needs to destroy gender. Sometimes it can just be what makes me more comfortable now.
And in this case, it just happens to be getting fucked in the ass, or fucking other people in the ass.
Click on the link below to see the articles, stories, and other content that other talented writers and bloggers have made.