I read this at CONCEPTION, a magazine release party for Petit Mort on “Nonbinary Parents’s Day” which was also the day that the England’s Supreme Court rules that trans people no longer legally exist.
My whole sexual orientation and all the romance in my heart only points at you. I could jerk off to an actual hour glass if it were wearing pantyhose. I could snuggle it all night, cook it breakfast in the morning, write it love poems, and protect it from everything… and it could devastate my heart, give me permanent trust issues, and spin me out into a revenge fitness and glow up binge for months.
Tell your boyfriend, I don’t think he’s worthless. I do like dick, and I love cum in my mouth, but other than that I have zero attraction to or need for men. I pretended to be one for 42 fucking years, and somehow I pulled it off better than all of them. I know how hard the sweet ones are trying, but I also know how hard it is to be that emotionally dumb. Seriously, Day 1 on estrogen, I all the sudden completely understood every argument I ever had with an ex girlfriend. Like holy fuck, these are what feelings are? It’s like the difference in astronomy from deducing a planet exists by it’s gravitational effect on bodies that are visible, and actually walking on a fucking planet. That’s the difference in emotional awareness between estrogen and testosterone.
There’s heaps for me to learn from you about the patriarchy. I fucking hate TERFS, but to their point, I didn’t grow up on the business end of it of misogyny. It’s always ok to school me up on that shit, and if ain’t acting humble about it, put my ass in check.
And the more I learn about the body horror that is childbirth, ovarian cysts, and fibroids… PH levels and UTIs… the more I’m like fuck ya’ll got it hard. Seriously, I don’t get why subway violence is mostly done by men. I’d be shoving mother fuckers all the time.
I love pussy. So much. It’s almost like pussy has somehow evolved over millions of years to be the best thing to cum in… for some reason…? But… you know how it’s really awesome to have a good buddy who owns a boat cause you get to go boating, but it’s really hard to actually own a boat cause it’s super expensive and maintenance is a full time job… I’m not gonna keep going with that. But dicks are stupid easy. Wash it when you can, with whatever and… that’s actually it. I’m just saying, thank you for your service.
I sacrificed everything else I had, just trying to be as Mommy as you. I had a lot to lose from pretending I belonged in a male body. I had a famous hot goth icon wife who loves anal. We had a big ass house. I had a SUV that cost 6 figures, for no reason. I had… D list celebrity status as a Daddy AF male sex icon…
And it hurt! All those surgeries, 400 hours of hair removal torture (I was a scruffy, hairy Daddy), starving myself for a year while doing 2 hours of cardio a day to shrink my 17 inch muscly neck… 2 years of weekly voice lessons with the mind fuck of having the voice that I think with not knowing how to even sound. I lost almost all my friends and community, who loved my man mask and everything it did for them, but didn’t know how to connect with what was underneath once I took it off. I had to watch all the people I loved grieve the loss of they thought I was, while trying their hardest not to look like transphobes. They said stuff like, “You’re so brave. You were SUCH a hot and lovable guy. But now you’re… you…” and then I watched them all fade away.
But, I did it… as much as I could get it done anyway…. I’m Mommy AF now. Bruce Lee used to talk about his philosophy for the best way to kick people in the face. He said to be like water. Not rigid. Not forced. Flow naturally, and fill all the space that’s available. My motherly presence nurtures, protects, loves, endures, fucks, gets fucked, and it sacrifices like only a mother could, all on it’s own. I don’t assert any of that. That’s just what was hiding behind my mask. It flows out of me, filling whatever space I’m allowed, and when it’s time for it to crash like a destructive wave, it kicks mother nature in the fucking face with perfect timing, just like Bruce Lee would have wanted.
If I live another 30 years, I just want to spend them learning how to love you better. I wanna hold your narrow waist and wide pelvic bone, less selfish than I can now. I didn’t wanna become you, you understand? I just wanted to match with you equally, so we could fight the world the same way, together, and talk about our feelings after each battle.
Thank you for every fight we’ve stood back to back in.
But, we gotta talk about something. Trans misogyny’s really got me down lately. In fact, I think it might actually kill me. I know, I’m sorry. I said the word misogyny at you, and I’ll never know what it felt like having cis men devalue me with their hidden hatred for me my whole life. I love you. I need you. I’ll stand here and weather your attack for that. But, baby, mommy, we gotta start talking about his. Shit rolls downhill and I’m at the bottom of the hill. Dolls like me leap into queer and kink spaces like we’re playing the floor is lava game, cause they’re the only spots we feel safe. When we settle in and build community there, it gets real scary when you treat us like cis straight guys treat you.
It’s mostly in micro aggressions. I’m sorry. We won’t use that term. Let’s call them micro doses of devaluing my gender. I know you’d never mean to do it. Of course you don’t know what I’m talking about my love, how could you. We’ve never been allowed to talk about it. Trans women talk to each other all the time about it. We’re really not trying to keep it a secret from you, we’ve just never had the space to bring it up. Okay?
How do I say this…? I don’t want lose you. I’m real scared right now. Ok, here…. Like, when I’m hanging with a clic of pretty hooker dommes, and we’re talking about kink stuff, feelings, relationships, ethics, skin care, make up… I watch them give each other full blast respect… while most of what I say is questioned or corrected in some way. I get ‘splained, talked over, my ideas get devalued…. I get subtly, or sometimes overtly shamed if I talk real about my sexual choices, or my choices in romance or personal safety risks. And I’m almost always the oldest one there. Maybe it’s not cause I’m a trans girl? Maybe I’m wrong AF. I wouldn’t know, cause when I try to talk to you about it, I get ignored, or shut down… sometimes I get straight up hatred for even bringing it up. But, when I talk to other dolls in kink and queer spaces about it, it’s a whole thing. We got running jokes. Like, “What, do pretty AFABs think they’d somehow get canceled for admitting a little trans misogyny? How? The results are in from 2020… canceling people didn’t work. It’s not like anyone listens to us anyway, unless we’re slinging girl dick, that’s the whole point!” I mean yeah, trans women are heard as long as our gender is cute and convenient… or when we die… but if we just wanna talk about stuff like day to day equality it’s like flicking pennies at a rhinoceros, trying to get it to move.
We don’t get this all the time. I know we don’t, cause the times trans women are treated as equals, we celebrate it and spread the gospel to give each other hope. Like “OMG you gotta hang out with so and so, she actually talked to me like I’m a full ass person.”
I don’t have the privilege of screening clients for safety like those beautiful hooker dommes with parts like you. I’m a dick girl. I get hired by guys who want to suck dick, eat cum, and get ass fucked, but never wanna see another man naked. They want Mommy to plow their asses. If they wanted anything else, they’d book you. The guys that pay my rate just aren’t gonna send me a pic with their ID or their Linked In to make me feel safe from them murdering me. Imagine the life shattering shame they’d go through if they were ever exposed for having sex with a trans woman. Forget about people finding out they hired a hooker or a domme… they’d have to convince they world they’re still straight, and that’s a just hard no for the kinda straight men who make enough money to afford me.
There’s less market out there for trans girls, cause there’s a LOT more “straight” guys than straight-with-an-asterisk guys. I might go 4 to 5 months without getting booked. Sometimes, even well established trans women gotta do survival sex work. I’ve let a smelly coked up guy jerk me off all night in my own home, just so I can afford a couple meals the next day. I spent all last summer like that… and I’ve won a couple dozen porn awards. I got a wikipedia page. I starred in a mainstream movie that played in theaters nationwide…. But I gotta take some real shady deals sometimes. I ain’t ashamed to admit it either.
But, getting shamed about it by other hookers with natural hour glass bodies and wet pussies… hurts.
And yeah, I do make desperate choices with romance. I don’t wanna. I know better… in theory… but I gotta work with what my options are. I’m a 45 year old single polyamorous lesbian with a hydraulic dick. I got these unnecessarily jacked arms that don’t fit my body. And I snore like a 45 year old man. I do overcompensate for that stuff. On your side of my bed, you get a clean nightstand with both kinds of cell phone chargers and a sanitized Hitachi. My sheets are linen and washed regularly. My biggest flex is that I have a completely empty drawer in my dresser. Nature abhors a vacuum, and might one day fill it with a girlfriend’s random items.
I moved to Bushwick on purpose, cause it’s my best odds of finding a partner or two like you, who might love me back even when it’s a little inconvenient. But even in Bushwick I’m a total niche. So I settle. I accept my boundaries getting pushed. I don’t always date age appropriate. I accept double standards with poly shit, and I gotta choose between partners who fetishize my body, or partners that won’t fuck me at all and treat me like I’m just a friend they kiss sometimes. I guess it’s possible I could find both, but I never have.
And I’m so scared to talk about this other part…. Sometimes, that whole devaluing thing flares up like an unfortunately timed herpes outbreak when we’re in kink negotiations. It gets scary, okay? Everything goes great as long as whatever you wanna do already fits inside my boundaries. But, if I can’t give you what you want, like cause of my hard trauma based limits… all the sudden you know so much more about kink stuff than me, and I get hit with coercive stuff like “Oh, but you’ve only played with inexperienced dommes, you’ll be fine with me.” “You know a good domme knows when to push comfort zones” “BDSM can heal trauma if you play with someone really experienced, like me…”. Come on… I’ve seen you and your girlfriends talk so much shit about stereotypical male doms for doing the exact same thing…. You wouldn’t do a cis girl like that. So why’s it okay with us?
There’s always more for me to learn about kink, but I have been professionally domming the shit out of men since 2010. Full time. I’ve won awards for it. I’ve taught classes on it. I’ve forgotten more testicle torture and ass fucking scenes than most dommes do in a lifetime. I’ve played the sub in somewhere around 20,000 scenes. My limits with cock and ball torture are from real raw experience, like going to the hospital with internal bleeding in my balls, THREE TIMES, and a permanent injury on the shaft of my dick. You wanna avoid hospitalizing your clients, seriously, ask me about it. Mommy’s seen some shit and done some shit. But, I did most of that before I transitioned, so I guess it doesn’t count so much…
I learned about putting really big stuff in buttholes from top of the food chain gay porn stars. Double Gold Star Gays, you know, born through C sections… never even grazed by a vagina… They consider the butthole as the only hole. World thought leaders in fisting ass. But I did all that through my male mask, so my credits don’t transfer.
I know, this is a sticky subject with feminism. Those TERFS would say, “Lucy, come on, you were socialized as a man with male privilege. Of course this is fair…” Again, I fucking hate TERFS, but I logically see what they’re getting at.
Lot’s of us did grow up hearing “If you aren’t getting what you want, try harder! Don’t give up!” You know the kinda shit that instills the sense of entitlement in cis men that makes them do coercive shit and feel ok about their misogyny?
But, ask any trans woman what it was like growing up being told we could be anything we wanted to be… astronaut… president… both?
We didn’t wanna be fucking astronauts. We wanted to be honest. We wanted to tell the world we were actually girls. That’s all we wanted, and most of us got punished if anyone found out. That was the worst part of my whole life and it lasted decades. Using those brutal years against us when we’re being erased by our government and scared in our communities is… cruel.
If you’re in a sex worker’s body, you know what it’s like to date a civilian who makes it feel safe to fall in love, just to drop you one day cause they don’t really accept your station in capitalism. That shit hurts. It’s not fair. You never deserved that. I hope you never have to feel that way again, and it breaks my heart to know, you probably will. It breaks my heart even more to know that you’ll settle for guy that you’re not that into if he just does actually accept you as a sex worker. Trans women get that exact same shit from other sex workers. That’s how dehumanized we are. The idea of loving us as whole people seems possible, until it isn’t.
When you say things like, “Oh so and so, they’re so cringe, they only dates trans women… what a chaser…” Girl… my love… my queen… do you have any idea how much better my life would be if preferring trans women were an acceptable sexual orientation? It’s 2025, in New York City, and we are years from that. Sure, you can love a trans person, as long as you water it down with a bunch of cis people. How different would your life be if being attracted to your gender was against the rules?
We’re targets for violence more than any other gender, and our suicide rate is through the fucking roof because we are not even close to valued as “full humans.” These micro to macro doses of devaluing erode away our basic human value to a point where we start to believe we don’t deserve to live among you.
Ok. I get it if you’re upset. I ripped off the scab of cringyness. It’s gonna bleed a little more.
If… you’re in the body of a white woman… try to remember the BLM movement. Ok, fuck, I’m really going there… Remember when we finally started to kinda understand what black people meant when they talked about micro aggressions? I remember. I remember dying on the inside, thinking about conversations I’d had with my black friends after they got pulled over by a cop, and me, without missing a beat, rattling off anecdotes to them about cops giving me tickets, or making me wait a long time… never considering that my friend was just scared for their fucking life.
I’m scared for my fucking life. Maybe it’s my ancestral karma from my southern heritage that dates back to the 1600s. It would be fair.
Two of my trans girlfriends were abducted with the intention of mutilating them for being “abominations.” I’ve held off a man with an AR-15 for hours who wanted to torture me to death because my existence made him “feel gay.” When the cops finally came, they wouldn’t arrest him because “I deserved it.”
I know that I like the bitter taste of gun oil on the steel barrel of my snubby 38, but I can’t ask for professional help with that, or I’ll get locked up in a male psych ward and detransitioned while I fight off rape until whenever they let me out.
The cis men in power and the threats on the street have something in common. They need to at least think they can have you so they can feel whole. None of this violence is your fault, but I’m asking you for help. Mom, please! Do that popular cis white girl thing where you make something so uncool and unsexy that the world changes a little in fear of never getting laid. Call people out and make them feel gross when they even devalue us a little. Make it a competition. You’re so good at that stuff.
You know, like we did with the BLM thing for a couple weeks, before we took the mic back by rebooting the Me Too movement?
I really hope a lot more of us don’t have to die to be heard. Or maybe just one really cute and popular one us has to die? Am I that cute and popular?
I can learn how to make peace with being solo poly dyke side-girl-dick. I think I can find serenity in going home alone after dinners and holidays with friends, after watching them go home in pairs and groups. But I will never stop loving you. I’ll never stop wanting to be with you. I’ll never stop being your Mommy with a dick. I’ll always want to nurture your growth, and care for you, and get the fuck out of your way of being happy. And if you’re feeling the mood, I’ll always be down to hold you down and breed you. I’ll do all that for you, while you literally birth and care for the entirety for humanity. I’ll do it till the day I die. But, if we’re really gonna live, not just survive, us trans dykes gotta have some new rules:
You gotta at least talk about this stuff with us, as equals, mommy to dick-mommy. If you can’t, I’ll still love you, I just can’t get close anymore, okay? I mean you can always come to me for girl dick… I just can’t let you have my heart anymore.
And start listening to us about skin care. We had to undo years of washing our faces with body soap and never even thinking about moisturizing. 4 years ago my face was swollen, bright red, rough and wrinkly. No one told me I had Joe Rogan face. But look at this! I’m 45 and glowing. We know about getting real results, okay?
And you gotta try to see us as what we are. Where we came from. Where we wanna be. It’s nice to hear “we’re just one of the girls” sometimes… but we aren’t. We’re girls who grew up in boys bodies, who the world let’s us say we’re girls now, I mean not on our passports anymore… but our real moms still see us as their little baby boys. And none of that makes us less capable or lovable or feminine.
I’ll never be Mommy like you can be. I haven’t suffered your way. But I am a valid kind of Mommy. I’m useful. Look at these fucking arms, if your cis boyfriend does you dirty I can probably choke him out for you. Please ask me to choke him out for you.
This has been a lot. I know I’m probably not getting laid anytime soon now. After a little time and space, please consider what I said.
