In which Lorcan writes about (his) sexuality using an extended metaphor of the ocean.

I’ve learnt this week that sexuality really is a very fluid thing. Of course, I was already aware of this, but I’d never felt the affects personally.

I'm one of those people that feels being open about stuff is the best way to teach others, even if I only hold that law to information about transitioning or topics related to it. But this is connected, really.

As previously mentioned, my partner visited last week for four days. As a result, I’ve learnt a hell of a lot about myself, and become more comfortable with the body I’m forced to live in until I’m able to adjust it to my liking with surgery and testosterone injections.

The thing is, I’ve lived happily for 16 years and 9 months under the term ‘asexual’. It’s something I’m comfortable with, something I was rather proud to call myself. Sure, some people see it as a problem, something that needs fixing and changing. That you should see someone. But if you are asexual, or you’re actually accepting, you know it’s no more a problem than being gay is. It’s simply an absence of sexual attraction, and still a valid sexual orientation.

I’ve had that argument a hundred times. From my family, from people who I thought were friends. The idea that it would change, that I hadn’t met the right person, or I should broaden my horizons. Really, that’s incredibly offensive, but as it turns out, they were all right. About me, at least.

I’m not about to start suggesting it’s the same for everybody. In fact, I’m adamant about the idea of people having their own lifestyles and sexualities and people leaving them alone.

I’ve become so used to the term I latched onto a few years ago to explain my (lack of) feelings, and suddenly I find myself without it, and a new way of looking at things. I’m stranded in a sea of sexual lifestyles and I don’t know which horizon to swim to. I’d feel safe, if I had my partner by my side to ground me, but she’s on the other side of a physical ocean, and though I’m set to travel there in five weeks, I currently have to struggle alone with no idea what to do with myself and a sense of loss.

It’s not a bad experience at all. It was unplanned, yes, but I learnt new things about my partner, and myself and we’re closer than ever before for the trust we’ve added to our already strong connection, and it really was a wonderful thing, but now I feel an urge to find a new column, like a riptide threatening to drag me under unless I keep myself afloat.

Titles mean very little to me, as do names, but I feel overwhelmed, raw and out of control, and it’s the only thing that I can hold onto.

Queer, perhaps, is something I’ll stick to. It’s all encompassing, it covers everything.

In the space of seven days, I learnt just how fluid life can be, and my life is better for it. But it’s a shame to feel I’m no longer part of an asexual community I once watched from afar and sometimes joined in with. I shouldn’t feel that way, since I’ve never felt a desire to get in with a heterosexual group at all, but then I was never in that area, so I don’t know what I’m missing.

People used to say ‘you’re so lucky, you’ll never get distracted when you should be working’, but now that’s changed. I’m luckier now, because I know that once I get to start Testosterone, everything will rocket, and I’d rather have an understanding of what I’m in for than get suddenly tossed overboard and be forced to sink or swim.

I suppose the point of this post is partially because I wanted to acknowledge the change in my life, but also because I wanted to really show how much things can shift massively in the space of just a few hours.

I said before that I suspected my asexuality was connected to my gender dysphoria, and I was correct in my theory. Once I became more relaxed with myself, I was able to, well, get to a point where a post like this is required. I'm happier with my skin now, even though I don't want to keep the gender I've been given. But in time, I may love my trans* body, like many others I admire. Like Buck Angel, but more on him another time, because that guy deserves his own post.

And I wouldn't have that without my partner. I wouldn't even be admitting that I am trans*. She really is amazing.

Sarah-Jane Smith says life on earth can be an adventure too, if you just know where to look, and her words have never been more true. I'm not sure this is what she meant, though. But I did always suspect her to be a lesbian, so perhaps.

This metaphor was originally just something that happened by accident. But a friend of mine I’m talking to asked if I used an ocean specifically for this topic because it’s ‘Wishy-washy-weird-and-damp’, so I’ll end with that and leave it there. Thanks Ivan.

More To Come.

Just a quick note that I will be posting several different posts over the next week or so, but I want them all to do themselves justice, so I want them to be good. I have a few topics to cover, including sexuality, David Bowie, and a model I just discovered. The three are not necessarily related. And I don't know what I'm more excited to work on first.

Embrace Your Originality

Well, what a hell of a few days I've had. This has shaped up to be the most hectic and amazing half term ever.

This post is mostly about me being lost, and then me going through a culture shock.

The weekend was uneventful, apart from my discovering the Marauders properly (from Harry Potter, if anyone needs the information) and Skype calling my partner throughout pretty much the entire day. I tried to do school work and ended up whining and asking to be read stories. My partner is wonderful and usually said yes.

But yesterday is when it all kicked off.

I got an appointment to meet somebody from Over The Rainbow at a clinic in my local town and got there under the words 'meeting a friend in town'. It was a sexual health clinic, and the waiting room was full of girls all staring and the posters were all about contraception, condoms, STIs and STDs, Cocaine Anonymous meet ups, all stuff I can't actually use. But then I got called through, as 'Lorcan', and met one of the OTR workers, Kevin. He's this guy in the second photo, with his leg around someone else and staring at you in a vaguely erotic manner. Everyone at OTR are trained NHS workers, and it's the only place in the UK with that kind of support for LGBT folk. We spoke about where I am in my transition, where I want to be, what kind of situation I'm in at home and at school. He's really camp, really friendly, and just generally an amazing guy. I want to hug him for being my first step.

He said he'd get me in contact with a therapist guy, but that's 'secret squirrel', as Kevin said, or confidence and privacy reasons, so I'm going to say no more than his name's Richard and he's a wonderful person. I left an hour after the meeting began, with two NHS pack things and a booklet called 'Live my Life', all about trans* life, surgery, coming out, transitioning, advice and service groups, and some pretty powerful quotes with photos of people in Bournemouth trans* community. I didn't want to leave the session at all.

There's a fortnightly group session at the centre itself, and the next one was tonight, from 6:30 to 8:30. It's two weeks because the group is split into guys and girls. He said if I could make it, that would be brilliant, and he'd show me around the area, which is titled The Triangle, and is full of queer friendly shops or cafés. I told him I'd try, but convincing my parents might be too difficult. But it would be better for me to at least go once, so I can meet other people.

I got home, told everything to my partner, and we agreed that I should go, definitely. I sorted out train times, thanked the gods that I got paid by my boss yesterday morning, and broke the news to my parents. The original plan was to tell them I was going to a trans* meeting session and that was it, but I broke a bit and had to say I was going to a workshop with my mate, Emmett, who I've mentioned before from NCS. My parents weren't happy, but accepted that I wasn't going to listen to them.

So today, at midday, I set off to town, and ran into my friend at the bus stop. We chatted and I updated him on my plans, got his help to buy tickets, and he saw me off. I missed Richard's call, but got on the train anyway.

For once, the station cafe was out of Earl Grey. I didn't know it was that popular. I had to settle for mocha, but it was beautiful.

When I finally got to my voicemail, I found he couldn't book me in, and without a one to one with him first, I'm not allowed into group sessions. Needless to say, I was panicked and shaking and freaking out. What was supposed to be a lovely train journey to what sounds like the town of my dreams was quickly turning into a train or terror.

Bournemouth is bloody massive. I got off the train and exited on the wrong side of the platforms, and had to ask directions from a lovely old man in his 60s, but he didn't know where Over The Rainbow was, or what it was. The customer services sent me to the other side, and I got lost about which bus to get. Then I realised I hadn't thought about fares and had to navigate a big Asda to find a cashpoint (and got distracted by some lovely suits and a whole rack of Skyfall DVDs which I knew I had money to buy). Then I messed up buses again, and finally got the right one. I asked to be let off at the road name, but they dropped me at the roundabout by the same name. Turns out they aren't the same place.

I doubled back to find The Triangle itself, mostly identifiable by clubs like Does Your Mother Know?, with it's pride bar along the bottom of the logo, and massive pride flags out from, and The Branksome, which is where a lot of fundraisers go on.

I located a cafe Kevin mentioned yesterday, called Flirt. I asked where to find the centre, and a lovely woman directed me. It took so long to find it, because they chose an area out of the way to provide a more confidential service. Understandable, but tricky.

Kevin found me first, and was really pleased to see me! I was introduced to a fellow transguy called Jay. I'm sure he's okay with being outted, since he isn't stealth. But I'm sticking to first names and no characteristics, just to be sure. And only names if I feel I need to.

Jay is lovely, and I spoke to him for a while about starting T, surgery (he showed off his chest and I tried not to radiate jealousy) and general life. Richard was fully booked with one to one sessions, but I at least got to speak to someone else for a bit.

Kevin and I took a wander around The Triangle, to all the venues like grooming parlours, the clubs, bars, shops, places to eat and meet up. I met so many people it was amazing. I started getting a bit shaky and haven't stopped yet, even at half past midnight. Everyone met me as Lorcan, and didn't question it at all. And they were all so camp. I felt right at home. If I live in Bournemouth, and Brighton doesn't work, I'm working at Flirt. I'm pretty sure they were playing Bela Lugosi's Dracula on the TV in the corner. That swung it all, for me.

Back at the centre, it turned out Richard's 5pm wasn't there, so I got a session! The kid who was late, Kieran, showed up about half an hour later, but by then we'd talked enough that it was fine. Richard said he could tell, within about a minute of me talking, that this was the real deal, which was a massive confidence boost.

A poet I met a while ago, back in 2011, named Andrew McMillan, through my school English class. We did a few poetry sessions, then he left. I was devastated. He quickly became a bit of a hero of mine, and it turns out he works closely with Over The Rainbow. Kevin called him, and he remembered me, said I was a really good poet, and sent over a flier for an earlier thing he did, so that I could show my parents what I'd been up to, if they asked. It was really nice to hear his voice again, even through a quiet phone conversation I wasn't a part of. I felt soothed, almost, to have this link to something I'm confident with in a world of uncertainty where the only thing I could be sure of was my name.

It was too late for Kieran to start his talk, so he offered to come with me to Flirt, because I had to get something to eat and Group didn't start until 6:30. We got on incredibly well, and he's 19 now, but started working it out at my age, so we could swap stories and stuff. I found out that 6 months into Testosterone, you actually have to have lower surgery to remove female organs, because the testosterone poisons them. So that's a bit terrifying.

We chatted about everything from school, to binding, to how unhelpful our parents are. We actually didn't see the time until 6:50pm, and rushed back, but it wasn't under way until 7pm, and the first half hour is for chatting, which was what we did anyway.

We took our seats, a wonderful colourful array of trans* folk both both men and women, and I spotted a kid across the room with a necklace that I'd given my partner for Christmas, a Supernatural necklace that Dean Winchester wears. I stayed quiet, not wanting to embarass him, but before everyone got settled he asked 'is that a Doctor Who badge?' from across the room. I responded with 'is that a Supernatural necklace?' and we started shouting stuff across the room at each other. He recognised my Captain America badge, knew my The Clash tee without seeing the whole name, and has tumblr. We had a bit of a moment, to be honest, and agreed to swap details at the end.

It was brilliant to make three friends in such a short time. There's another guy who comes down once a month all the way from London, and he was there tonight. A proper punk, right down to a 'god save the queen' print attached to his jacket with safety pins. I felt so fake and unreal with my simple skinny jeans, metal chain, The Clash tee and black shirt. Like I wasn't doing it properly. But in a nice way.

Everyone welcomed me, we complimented each other and spoke about passing in public, how we deal with shopping for ourselves, school systems, outting ourselves in certain situations. Luna, this wonderful kid who sat on the floor because we were out of chairs, told me I was really brave for starting the talking and being so involved for my first session. I may have blushed a bit.

At the end of the evening, which ran on to 9pm on account of the amount of people attending, I got offered a lift back to the station by Maddy, a lovely woman. I swapped details with the kid I'd bonded with, but Kieran had left, sadly. I also ninja'd a copy of Pride Life, which is a cool magazine. Wish I'd grabbed G somethingorother too, but it was going to be difficult enough to smuggle one back, let alone two. Another kid was getting my train, so we both got a lift.

Problem was, the session had run so late that we'd missed the train, and the next wouldn't be for an hour. And when I got to my town, I'd have missed last bus. My parents would have gone insane and banned me from ever going on such journeys again because I'd be too irresponsible.

But Maddy is amazing and wonderful, and she actually drove us both all the way back to our places, even though she didn't need to. I could have cried with joy.

I hid the magazine down the back of my jeans, stuff my tee with my scarf, embarrassingly enough, and rushed straight to the bathroom when I got in, to sort myself out. My mum picked something out of my hair for a brief moment, I was scared she'd find glitter in my hair or something, even though I've not been near any. I've been so seeped in the gay environment that I've longed for for so long that I felt like I was radiating it.

So today was busy, and scary, and a massive step for me. Last week I asked my school to change my name on the registers, and that's being sorted when we go back next week. In the space of five days, I have taken a huge leap towards being who I truly am, and I don't think I'd be anywhere if it weren't for my partner, guiding me and politely shoving me in the right direction when I don't know where I am any more. I wouldn't have admitted my identity if not for her, not even to myself. I wouldn't have sourced out a therapist and found Over The Rainbow. I wouldn't be Lorcan, at all. I owe it all to her.

And tomorrow, she's coming down for four days, so we can both unwind and ground ourselves again. I'm actually typing at 1am on the 20th of February right now, but I want to give all this information to the most important person in my life first, so I've put this on a timer. Gotta get my priorities in order.

Well, that's... That's a lot of information. I've had a massive shock to my system, of having an entire day being called what I actually want to be called, being happy, not having to hide myself. Being at home again feels crippling and I keep having to drop my shoulders from their hunched positions of defence against a world that doesn't understand my wishes, a world so far removed from the day I've had, despite being only an hour by journey.

It's terrifying, and amazing, and utterly brilliant, and this double agent lifestyle isn't nearly as glamorous and the movies make it out to be, but if days like today are what I get out of it, days of complete euphoria and relaxation, then it's entirely worth it. And I can't wait for the day that I can take my partner to all the places I've seen, introduce her to the people I've bonded with.

I offered to work with Autostraddle, too, but they won't choose a trans* author until March 1st, and even then it's technically women only. But I could do with the money to fund trips to these meetings, and for other things relating to it. Still, I guess I understand if I can't get in, because I'm not the audience they cater for. If there are any lovely ladies who would be interested, you should really try! There's still time! The link takes you to the post itself.

And now, I should try to sleep, since I'll see my love in just over 12 hours. Or rather, by the time this posts, I'll be with her. That's a brilliant thought. One to leave with.

I can find my way, I can go the distance.

It appears progress is being made.

A good friend offered to help me present more male (though after much deliberation I declined the offer to tone up my muscles and such, since this isn't about changing who I am, just making me feel comfortable, and I'm not sure that's the right method). Another stopped me protesting and told me they're getting me a binder, which will mean I'll have two, as I'd hoped, though I'll be unable to wear them at home. But still, good to know they're there.

And above all that, it seems I may have an appointment and I might be in luck. Over The Rainbow got back to me, saying they were really sorry about not replying, but they're being refurbished, and one of the team is going to be in my closest town most Mondays, and I'm going to be booked into an appointment next Monday.

It sounds promising, it really does. I might get somewhere with this.

I'm also going to have a haircut before I go to the appointment, partly funded by the friend buying me a binder who is far too kind and I don't deserve that much generosity.

I won't lie, it's partly to help me feel better and less dysphoric, but also to try to pass better at the clinic afterwards. They actually addressed me as Lorcan, and that is just... amazing.

And I'm trying to work up courage to ask the school to change my name, but we'll see about that one.