Patroclus is a gay trans man living in the UK. Join him on his adventures as he navigates gender transition, finding his place in the gay community and figuring out how to get the sex he likes when he wants it. He loves dancing, cooking and talking in the third person.

It was only a short walk from the tube station to the front entrance of the club; but torrential rain ensured I was soaked to the bone. The queue wasn’t that long as I had made sure to arrive early. Doing so would give me enough time to map the place out and get comfortable. But not too early, as no one wants to be the guy stood alone by the sidelines as ten other guys wander around.

I had already been ID’d for cigarettes at the local Tesco ( I don’t smoke, but I have long ago learned that cigs are good currency at any nightclub, gay or straight ) and even though the bored looking woman at the counter hadn’t batted an eyelid at the male name, I still had the fear that I simply didn’t look male.

And so I stood in the rain, shuffling forward as each man was checked and allowed in. My heart was pounding so hard I swore it was rattling my ribcage. Every single breath was laboured and borderline painful. I was going to be found out. I was going to be turned away.

It was my turn. I gave the security guard what I hoped was winning smile, but I probably looked like I was about to be sick. My hand shook as I handed over my ID and to my surprise… The security guard briefly looked at my ID, glanced at me and then….

He ushered me inside.

I didn’t have time to fully process what had just happened as I was suddenly through the door and it was like walking into a wall of heat. I paid my entrance fee and put my coat in the cloakroom in a haze. The further I walked down the short dark corridor in the direction of loud thumping music, the warmer it got. It took a while for my eyes to adjust, but when they did… Bears… Bears as far as the eye could see.

The main room was a little overwhelming for me. I’ve been in many nightclubs, but this one was just massive. It looked like nothing like any club I’d ever been in before. It was stripped down and raw, whilst still having all the trappings of a modern club. It was clean and well looked after, but it had this sense of… I’m having trouble describing it. It reminded me of the old rock clubs I went to as a teenager. Rough around the edges and not caring about looking fancy. Dark walls and concrete floors and your only real hope of seeing anything more than a foot in front of you is when the strobe lighting came on.

Due to the immense size of the main room, I decided to stay in the Pop and R’n’B room which was much smaller ( in comparison ). I made my way to the bar and was glad of my choice to come a little earlier as I was able to get served in under twenty minutes. Unlike another popular gay club in which you can be waiting for much longer and always end up missing your favourite songs.

There was a little area between the bar and the DJ booth which wasn’t so far away from the action that I’d be a wallflower, but not so close that I’d feel uncomfortable. One thing I noticed straight away that even though there was the usual big groups of friends and couples, there were also quite a few men who had arrived on their own. This instantly put me at ease as when I go out alone I always worry that people are looking at me and judging me for being alone. No one wants to be the lone creepy guy at the club.

It took a couple of drinks ( I took full advantage of the Happy Hour they had on. London drinks prices are horrifying ) but I started to loosen up a bit and began to dance. I started at the edge of the dance-floor, just happily dancing by myself; and as much as I would have loved to be dancing with a cutie, I wasn’t expecting anything. And I certainly did not expect the group of smiling, lovely men to beckon me over and dance with me. There is a part of me that thinks they felt sorry for me as I was obviously on my own. But then again, they weren’t tugging every other lone man there into their group, so I suppose that does help the old pride a little.

Shots happened. Things always get switched up to eleven when shots happen. And before I knew it, I was crushed between two writhing bears whilst the VengaBus pounded out of the surrounding speakers. That is certainly something I will never forget.

What I will also never forget was the, what seemed like, a silent yet universal signal to get naked.

To be fair, it was ridiculously hot in there. Even the walls were sweating. My t-shirt was soaked through, my hair sopping and the rain had evaporated from my jeans but were once again wet and sticking to my legs. Wet, matted leg hair is not a fun experience. Note to self: Wear less next time.

Anyway, where was I… Oh yes. Stripping men.

In something akin to a sexy Mexican wave, shirts were being pulled off left right and centre. One man I’d been dancing with for a while gestured that I should take mine off too; but I politely declined and insisted it was because I was shy. Really I didn’t want people to see my scars. I was having such a good time and I knew that I would get questions about them ( I always do ). I didn’t want to spoil my night.

They seemed to find my explanation cute rather than silly and didn’t try to make me remove my shirt or chastise me for not doing so. By this point with how hot I was and the fact I had hot, sweaty men pressed up against me from every angle, my white t-shirt was almost see through.

My memory gets a little blurry at this point. I remember desperately wanting to kiss someone. Wanting to makeout with reckless abandon in the middle of the dance-floor. And I came so so close to doing so several times but… I chickened out. But even though I didn’t get to smooch anyone, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so sexual and wild. There was just something about the energy of the place that honestly? Made me kinda hard.

Before this post gets far too long and terribly TMI, I shall try and wrap it up now. I will definitely be going to XXL again. It was so much fun and I didn’t feel judged for having gone down there on my own. It may even become my regular Saturday night haunt.

With Love,

Patroclus

 

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Hello! Just a quick check in to ramble at you! I’ll keep it short and sweet!

I now have a tumblr, so you can follow me there too if you like!

Other places you can find me on the internets are Twitter and if you enjoy reading my blog, please consider popping over to my Ko-Fi account!

If there are any subjects you’re eager for me to cover, please let me know!

With Love,

Patroclus

There’s been so much hype over this STP and honestly I am so very impressed with the maker. He started this business on his own and to the best of my knowledge, he’s still continuing to do the majority of it on his own. That’s designing and making the product and running the site and advertising. Honestly, I’m just so impressed. Especially with how quick it was delivered to me and how discreet the shipping was.

Now, first off I want to say that this product didn’t work for me. But that isn’t the fault of the product. Not really. It’s more to do with my body shape and the like. I am not the kind to skip leg day, so I have thighs that could crush a watermelon… And a small silicone cock, apparently.

I had to spread my legs as far as humanly possible and force my hips comically forward just to get this STP to work for me. Also I had a lot of issues using it with pants on so that obviously had its issues and prevented me from using it outside my bathroom. The reason for this was that the shaft was just too short to get past my superman thighs and out of the fly of my jeans.

So basically, for me this STP works if I’m naked and crouching over the toilet. But I am certain it would work well for guys with slimmer thighs.

Now for packing.

As a packer the EZP worked really well for me. It doesn’t need a harness but you will have to buy tight underwear so it doesn’t fall out and roll down your trouser leg. Boxers are out and y-fronts are in! Thankfully you can get some really cute ones from places like H&M and Topman.

It gives a discreet bulge that actually looks pretty realistic. You’re not walking around looking like a porn star but there’s definitely something there for those who want to have a sneaky peek.

Looks wise, it’s a nice bit of kit. The colouring is almost spot on and there’s some good little details in there too. Will definitely pass the glance test in a dimly lit public bathroom, but you might get a second look if someone’s gotten a good stare on and noticed something’s a bit off.

All in all, I would recommend this product. It’s well priced for what it is and even though it didn’t work out too well for me, I know a lot of guys who absolutely love it and it works great for them. If you want to grab one of your own you can go to: https://transthetics.com

With Love,

Patroclus

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I’ve had many questions and comments about my blog since I started it. Some from friends who know me offline, but mostly from strangers wandering around the internet. The one question that has cropped up a lot ( much to my surprise ) is:

“But why do you have to talk about sex?”

One person asked me why I have to talk about how we ( trans people ) have sex. Another commented that they didn’t want me to talk about sex at all, regardless of whether I was talking about cis or trans people.

Now, I do understand their fears to a point. As one friend pointed out, trans people are either overly sexualised or stripped of their sexuality entirely. Made out to be innocent fragile little flowers that couldn’t possibly be into that icky sex stuff.

Now, to address the former – Trans people being overly sexualised – It currently seems to be our trans sisters who are getting the shit end of the stick in regards to that. There’s so much trans porn and the majority of Trans Chasers are after trans women. So the folks who’ve messaged me with their grievances are afraid that might happen to trans men too.

But it is already happening. On the app Scruff I disclose my trans status, on Grindr I do not. Once upon a time I disclosed on both, but the sheer amount of ‘straight’ men on Grindr looking for ( and I quote ) “a pussy to fuck” or “a wet hole to dump my cum in” was just overwhelming. Of course, it’s not on the level of trans women, but it’s happening. We just seem to be more of an excuse for gay or questioning men to prove to themselves they don’t like men. One guy on Grindr actually told me that “It’s not gay if it’s with a trans dude.” Sorry mate, I’m a man… So if you fuck me, it’s still hella gay.

Honestly, I think we need to talk about sex more. It’s something that I feel isn’t done enough in our community. We all seem too shy or too scared to admit we like sex. Almost as if we feel that we don’t deserve to like sex. I know that I certainly felt that way for a very long time. I hated my body ( still do sometimes ) and just the thought of even masturbating was enough to make me feel sick, let alone allow anyone else to touch me.

Personally I think we might be going the same way as the gay community has been going for some years now. Trying to make themselves more palatable to straight people. Not talking about fetishes or gay spas and leaving Grindr on the very edge as something that is a bit silly that no one really does…

It is something that is very apparent at things like Pride ( which I talked about in my last post ). It was all very white and very cis and quite the concentration on either beautiful young twink boys or fabulous gorgeous drag queens. Anyone who didn’t fall into those categories weren’t very well received.

There seems to have been a lot of trying to make ourselves more palatable to the cis. Pushing forward those who ‘pass’ better than the rest. Ignoring or even trying to hide those who refuse to fit into nice neat boxes. And I think that sex is definitely something that has come up as a touchy subject.

The trans person who loves their body and enjoys sex has no place in the narrative of the depressed, self hating trans person who suffers so terribly from dysphoria that they cannot even look at themselves in the mirror. And I am not saying that these people do not exist. Sometimes I am this person. But currently this is the only narrative that the cis are holding onto.

It’s always a coming out story or a suicide story or someone getting physically assaulted. It’s just another case of the cis being misery tourists. But because this is the narrative that’s out there and the loudest and boldest one, this is the thing that young trans people who are just figuring themselves out get to see. And surely that makes things worse?

When I first came out as trans I worried that perhaps I wasn’t trans at all. And this was because as I joined various communities online or read articles about being trans, it seemed that I wasn’t experiencing the level of dysphoria that I was supposed to be having. And then there was the fact that it seemed you could only be straight. The narrative tended to be, thought they were a lesbian, turns out they were a man. But for me… I was mainly dysphoric about my breasts, never really thought too much about my vagina and I was attracted to men.

And then of course when I tried to figure out how this whole sex thing worked, it seemed that everyone just fell silent. No articles written on it. No one discussing it in forums. Thankfully that has changed some in recent years and people are slowly but surely starting to talk about it. But it is still very much a taboo subject.

In an ideal world you’d learn about trans people and sex in school’s sex education. But they can barely get straight cis sex right, so god knows how they’d tackle us.

Anyways, I have rambled on and I’m not sure if I’ve made my point. But I suppose I’m calling this done.

With love,

Patroclus

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Another late entry, but there are reasons behind this. This post is going to encompass themes I cover on most posting days, so I thought it best to get all my thoughts together and of course experience Pride In London first hand before I could properly write about it.

So. Saturday was the big Pride Parade in London, which I got to be a part of as a marcher rather than a spectator. There were lots of mixed emotions going on for me on that day. Fear, due to recent attacks on London, awe due to the sheer amount of people cheering and waving as I walked past and… There was a little bit of anger and disgust there too.

The latter was due to some of the spectators making me ( and others ) feel like zoo exhibits. I noted one other trans guy in the parade ( there were likely many others, but he was the only one Visible as he had taken his shirt off and his scars could be seen ) and he was definitely a point of curiosity for those watching the parade.

Many people called him over, or just shouted questions at him. A lot of people took photos and pointed him out to their friends. I had been considering taking my own shirt off at Pride, but I decided against it when I caught sight of a woman screwing up her face in disgust and mimed puking as the other trans guy passed by.

Pride is supposed to be for us. For those who fall under the LGBTQ. Not for cis straight people to come and have a good look at us. As the day went on it felt more and more like it wasn’t for us at all. It catered to cis het people who wanted to have a big party and feel like they were doing a spot of activism without having to do anything at all.

Things got worse still when I headed out to the clubs that night. Gangs of straight girls squealing and pointing at gay men kissing. Straight couples taking over the dark little hidden corners. Tourists coming to peer into our safe haven and treating it like a day at the circus.

I have been trying to write this post on and off since the early hours of Sunday morning ( 3am to be exact when I staggered back home a bit worse for wear ) and all it keeps coming back to again and again is that I’m not sure if I’ll be doing Pride again next year. They had that terrible mistake with those awful posters, the organisation was terrible, we spent most of our time being herded like cattle and being shown off to the straight tourists. And a problem that happens over and over again – it was very white and very cis.

It felt less like a march and a statement of pride and more like being paraded around for the amusement of those who have no idea what it’s like to live in fear. Who don’t know how difficult it can be being part of the LGBTQ.

If this post seems tired and bitter and angry it’s because I am. This is the only marker on our calender that we can call our own, and now it seems we can’t even do that. I am tired of having to perform my sexuality and in some cases my gender for people who just came out for a party and don’t even know the slightest thing about our history.

Anyway, I’m done. I’m done.

With Love,

Patroclus

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I feel I must warn you, this post may simply turn into a love letter to Dr Lorimer. He is quite possibly one of the kindest and most understanding doctors I have ever met. If those of you in the UK decide to go the Private route to get on testosterone, then for the love of goodness, go with Gender Care and request Dr Lorimer!

Now I have that out of the way…

For a long time I had been determined that I wouldn’t go Private. I had every faith that I’d be able to transition on the NHS with little to no problems at all. But god how wrong I was. I spent many years being passed on from medical professional to medical professional. My details were lost on many occasion. Some of the people I was sent to had no idea why I was sent to them because gender transition simply wasn’t their area ( I had at one point been sent to a therapist who specialises in schizophrenia. We were both very confused ).

As said in my post about transitioning on the NHS, they are overworked, understaffed and underpaid. Most of them do not have the training required to deal with trans issues and that is the problem at hand here, not the people themselves. I was told once by a fellow trans person ( when I had told them that I felt a counsellor I’d been sent to didn’t care at all ) that they are not paid enough to care.

That sounds terribly harsh, but really it makes a lot of sense. When you’re cramming as many people into as many appointments as possible into each day, working overtime and sometimes not getting days off due to demand and your pay not reflecting your hard work; caring is the last thing you’re going to be able to dredge up the energy to do.

It got to a point where trying to transition was causing me more dysphoria than not doing anything at all. So, after a long conversation with my housemates it was decided that I would go private. I e-mailed GenderCare and was surprised when I received a reply four days later. I had gotten so used to hearing nothing at all for months on end that I genuinely didn’t believe it had happened so quickly.

I was given four dates to choose from and told how much my first appointment with Dr Lorimer would cost ( £220 ) and then my second appointment with Dr Seal would cost £220. In the e-mail I was asked the following questions:

What name do you prefer to be known by (for example, when we meet you)?

How old are you?

Are you with other gender services, private or NHS?

Are you living, day to day, as you’d like to live, gender-wise? If not, what needs to change?

What’s your objective in approaching GenderCare – what would you like from us?

I was also asked to bring the following to my appointments:

My address
My GP’s address
Relevant letters relating to past or current treatment
My name change document (if you’ve changed your name)
A list of current medication
Proof of age (passport, driving license)
A supportive friend or relative, if I wanted to
Payment

Dr Lorimer will make the assessment which he will then send on to Dr Seal. When you see Dr Seal, you will need to take along blood test results, so make sure to have those done in advance!

I was expecting to be waiting at least a year for my first appointment, but instead less than a week after I’d sent over all my details, I had an appointment made for two months later. I was so so shocked that I just burst into tears as I read the e-mail. And then panic set in. I didn’t have time to save the money I needed. I thought that I’d have plenty of time. I didn’t expect it to happen so quickly.

Cue another house meeting and the housemates offered to loan me the money and I could save up and give it them back. I gratefully accepted and then e-mailed GenderCare to confirm my appointment.

I’ll be honest here, I was terrified when I first walked into to Dr Lorimer’s office, but he put me at ease straight away. Not one single slip up with pronouns ( seems like an odd thing to mention, but I had so many medical professionals insist on calling my by the wrong pronouns no matter how many times I corrected them ) he didn’t make comment on the fact that I wasn’t wearing a binder or packer ( it was so very hot outside and I couldn’t do it. Which probably added to my nerves ) he warned me when a question he was about to ask could possibly be triggering and he was just so kind and understanding. Even had a box of tissues on hand when I started crying due to having to talk about painful things I experienced growing up.

There was a bit of a wait between seeing Dr Lorimer and Dr Seal. I think it was five months, maybe five and a half. But I wasn’t too downhearted as I was actually on the way to medically transitioning. I was been taken seriously for the first time in years and it felt wonderful.

My appointment with Dr Seal was relatively short in comparison to my first one. He is a very blunt but very kind man with a wicked sense of humour. He does not ease you into things as much as Dr Lorimer does, but he is patient and very understanding. He went through my medical history with me and went through the pros and cons of different types of testosterone ( I ended up choosing to go on the gel ) and then after ten minutes of banter he gives me a wide grin and says “Well then, [REDACTED] lets get you some testosterone, shall we?”

I must have looked a picture. Just gawking at him like he’d grown a second head or something. I asked him to repeat what he’d just said and he grinned even wider giving him the appearance of a very friendly shark and repeated what he’d said. He was going to write me up a prescription for testosterone.

Less than a week later I was on my way to the pharmacy and I was picking up my first box of testim gel. It was all a little dreamlike to be honest. Now, since I was on a Private prescription, I had to pay Private fees for my testosterone. So I was paying £30 a box ( per month ). But! Both Dr Lorimer and Dr Seal wrote me letters to take to my GP so I could go on shared care. Basically, I get my diagnosis privately but my care with the NHS.

It wasn’t as quick as I would have liked. I spent five months paying the Private fee as, bluntly, a lot of NHS doctors don’t like to work with Private doctors. And there was a lot of gatekeeping all over again. At one point I was refused a prescription from my GP and I had to e-mail GenderCare again and ask them to put a bit of pressure on. Which they did in the form of sending me another letter, and it was all soon sorted after that.

So I now just pay the NHS fee which is £8.50. Which is so much more manageable than what I was paying before! I am still on the waiting list for Charing Cross for future appointments. But… I think I am going to stay with GenderCare. It will take a little time to save up money for the appointments, but with Private care they have more time to see you and take you through things properly. And you get treated like a human being instead of just a number on the waiting list they need to get in and out quickly.

This is in no way the fault of the NHS, but I need to do what is best for me and my health. I just hope that our government sees sense and puts more money time and effort into the NHS. It needs all the help it can get.

GenderCare’s website: gendercare.co.uk
Dr Lorimer’s Twitter: @
GenderCareDrL 

With love,

Patroclus

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Firstly I want to say how sorry I am that this blog post is so late! Life seems to be taking a swing at every turn right now, but I’m going to try and do a load of posts and schedule them so this won’t happen again! Very very sorry!

Ok, now my grovelling is done, onto the post!

Dating is nerve-wracking for anyone, but for transgender people, there’s that extra layer of nerves. Or in my case fear. I was so scared that once I told the guy I’m trans that he would treat me badly or even worse, turn violent. I’ve heard from other gay trans guys about the men who have flipped out and made threats. These occurrences are few and far between, but the fact they happen at all are pretty frightening.

But even without the more dramatic consequences, there are people who will not date us simply because we are trans. There are an alarming number of men in the gay community who are transphobic. And trying to figure out who you can tell about your trans status and who you could possibly date is exhausting. And in some cases, miserable.

The question I have been asked a lot when discussing dating is: Why don’t you just date other gay trans guys?

Well, the answer to that is, I do. I have no issue with dating other trans guys. But you have to understand that by saying I’d only date other gay trans men, I am narrowing my dating pool even more. By being a gay man that pool is tiny. Gay and trans and only dating others who are gay and trans? We’re talking a puddle.

Another thing I get asked is: Why don’t you tell people straight away? Why don’t you just have it written on your dating profile?

My reason for that is that I do not see being trans as a big part of my identity. I just… Am. Me being transgender goes as far as what’s between my legs. And that is the business of myself and my doctor. And of course, whoever I’m sleeping with.

I see no point ( for myself ) in outing my trans status to all and sundry. I don’t want to be a point of curiosity or become a target for anyone who might feel cruel that evening. When I started testosterone, I didn’t bother trying to ‘go stealth’ as I felt very obviously trans. I felt that people could look at me and just know ( a ridiculous notion, but one that haunted me all the same ). So, I had it on my profile and I was upfront when people didn’t read my profile.

This was my first experience with ‘Chasers’. A lot of them thought I was a trans woman and congratulated me on how pretty I looked. And when I corrected them, some either said that wasn’t what they were looking for, or others ( quite bluntly ) asked about my genitals. The phrase that kept coming up word for word was “You still got a pussy?”

I was bombarded with questions about my genitals and whether or not I would have The Surgery. Some responded with dismay when I said I would be having chest surgery; saying that they wanted to play with my tits whilst they fucked me. Bearing in mind that this was after barely a few words said to each other. Three messages and suddenly it was all tits and pussy and hard fucking and quite a few asking if they could come inside me.

This was on gay dating apps. Mainly Grindr ( and yes, I know that it’s a hookup app, and folks are probably rolling their eyes at me right now. But there are options for you to tick saying you’re into dating. So all it takes is a little reading, come on guys! ). It got so bad that I was considering detransitioning. Not because I felt I had made a mistake, but because I was so tired of being viewed as a Thing rather than a person. I felt like a zoo exhibit and people could come and look at me and make the rudest comments whenever they wished. And if I ever had a go at them for their behaviour, I was often met with scorn. One man saying I was acting like ‘such a woman.’

In the end I just deleted all my profiles from all the apps and all the dating sites. I decided to not even think about dating until I felt more comfortable with myself. Until I was at a point where I felt I could decide whether or not to disclose my trans status to someone. Because before when I was in those first few months of testosterone, I felt I had to tell people. And now? Now it feels more like my choice.

I get less messages and less people coming to my profiles than before, but I see that as a good thing. Before, people were just after me because I happen to have a vagina. I was something to laugh at or a fetish or something to get angry at. Now, I’m just another guy among all the other guys. I have only had two dates so far ( with the same guy – However we have decided to be friends ) so I haven’t done the whole… Disclosing that I’m trans yet. But for me and my comfort level, I don’t think I’ll ever tell anyone unless things look like they might go in a sexy direction.

For me personally, a good time to disclose would be the third date. My reasoning behind this is that if you’re going out for a third date, then there is something about this person you really like. The first date is the getting to know you bit, second date is the do I actually like you bit and the third date is, I like you… Let’s see if this is going to go somewhere.

 

With love,

Patroclus

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I want to start this blog post by saying I love the NHS. I really fucking love the NHS. Without it, some of my nearest and dearest ( and in some cases myself ) would not be here. It is something that should be protected by our government and taken from strength to strength. But the sad reality is that they are understaffed, underpaid and overworked. And in regards to trans people, terribly undertrained.

There are some doctors who know what a trans woman is and that is a start. But even now, many do not know what a trans man is, or just assumed they’d never meet one. And when it comes to non-binary people… Well… Some of my nb friends have said that the majority don’t believe that someone could be non-binary.

In a recent check-up, my doctor was unable to see me, so a nurse saw me instead. When she read on my records that I’m trans, her reaction was to gently pat me on the knee, tell me I was a beautiful girl and that my true colours would shine through as soon as I was on oestrogen. It took me a moment to figure out what was happening, but when I told her that she was in the right area but facing the wrong direction, she was very surprised. To quote her: “Oh! I didn’t know it could go the other way too! How fascinating!”

Needless to say, I was rather uncomfortable for the rest of the appointment.

All of the above is why it can be a difficult and long wait to get the hormones you need via the NHS route. And even then, there are GP’s who may refuse to prescribe you hormones.

The best advice I can give for someone starting out on their journey is to get your name changed first. If I could go back and change anything, that would be the first thing I’d do. In the UK you have to live as your ‘chosen gender’ for a minimum of one year. I only found this out after months of being sent from pillar to post to doctor after doctor and therapists and counsellors. And then finally, I was told that nothing could be done until I had a year of living as a man under my belt.

As you can imagine, I was very frustrated. Those months spent running around and chasing after medical professionals and trying to prove I had gender dysphoria could have been better used going towards that one year goal.

Personally, I think that having to live a full year pre-t before getting any help is a bit much. I know that they have to be ‘sure’ that someone is transgender, but I feel that could be done in six months rather than twelve.

It’s going to be scary, but doing things this way will save you a lot of time and stress in the long run. So! You’re going to need to come out to everyone. Your family, your friends, your school, your workplace – Everyone who you interact with regularly. You need to be socially transitioned for a year before the NHS will prescribe you hormones.

Right. You’ve changed your name ( best to do it through deed poll so you have official papers to wave around ) and gotten all your ID changed over to your new name ( something I am STILL trying to sort out two years on – Make sure to get it all done asap! ) you’ve come out to all and sundry and you’ve been socially transitioned for a year. What next?

Make an appointment with your GP ( they should have some idea of what’s going on since you will have changed your name and asked for male pronouns to be used ) and tell them that you wish to medically transition. Inform them that you have been socially transitioned for a year and that you have been living under your chosen name for a year. Most GP’s will want to check up on this, which is why it’s a good idea to have people in authority know about your situation. So parents, teachers or your boss at work will be good people for your doctor to contact. This is the point where you can ask to be referred to a Gender Identity Clinic ( GIC ).

Now, this is where things can get a little bit tricky. It does depend on whether or not your doctor has updated information and whether or not they try to send you away. Both the former and the latter happened to me. I had to direct my GP to England’s 2013/14 Interim Gender Dysphoria Protocol ( there is probably an updated version now, it is best to double check ) when he said that the NHS wouldn’t fund this treatment without me getting ‘psychiatric help’ first. This is rubbish and the link I have provided proves this.

Whilst at your GP, I would take this opportunity to make an appointment with a nurse to get your blood tests done. The more things you can do in advance and just have them lined up, the better.

I only really know about Charing Cross GIC, so that’s the information I’ll give right now. But there are other’s in the UK, you just need to do a little bit of research and make sure you tell your GP which GIC you’d like to be referred to.

At Charing Cross you will have two appointments spaced six months apart. The first will be a little bit like a therapy session in which they talk to you about when you first realised you were trans and things linked to that. And the second will be a physical assessment. You will need to bring your blood test results with you. They will want to make sure you are physically well enough to take the testosterone, so do be honest with them.

You will be asked if you have any mental health issues and if so, how you manage them. Be prepared to talk about your childhood in detail and to be answering questions about your relationships with members of your family. There will be a lot of questions in regards to your dysphoria, and they will be very personal too. Grit your teeth on this one and battle through it. You can do this.

They will also want to know if you have had any time living in your ‘chosen gender’ and this is when you can mentally do a victory lap. Make sure to bring your name change forms with you as this will have the date you changed your name. And that will also be around the same time you socially transitioned.

Once you’ve had both these appointments, unless there’s something else they need to assess, you will be prescribed hormones at the end of the second appointment. You can choose between injected testosterone and testosterone gel. Both have their pro’s and con’s which I will go into in another post.

I think that’s everything for that one. But do remember to do some of the research yourself as this is very London centric and different areas of the UK may vary.

Next Wednesday I shall be discussing getting hormones through Private care.

With love,

Patroclus

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I just want to start this review with a Not Safe For Work warning. I will be talking about a penis prosthetic. An STP device (stand to pee ). So if you’re at work or if you’re around people who you don’t want to see you reading a review about a silicone cock, best press the back button now!

Ok! Now that’s out of the way, the STP I shall be reviewing is the Freetom Rogue 5.5 4in1 ( pack, pee, play and pleasure ).

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I have had this prosthetic for about six months now and it was the first one I bought. Really, I should have gotten a size smaller, but I wanted to try it out for sex and I was worried that the smaller size wouldn’t do much for me or my partner. Although, from other reviews I have seen of this model, the smaller size doesn’t make much difference as it is the testicles and funnel that cause a lot of the trouble.

I’m going to go through the things I had trouble with first, and then go into what I liked.

As said, the size was a problem. I am quite a short guy, but also quite muscular, so I thought that perhaps my broadness would round out the massive bulge in my skinny jeans. Bluntly, it didn’t. It really didn’t. Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson would have trouble rounding out this thing! I tried buying slim fit and regular fit jeans to balance out my monster cock, but nope… Still didn’t work. Still made me look like a budget porn star.

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Now, that’s fine if you don’t mind looking extremely well endowed. I know a few guys who have this model and they love that element of it. But another issue I have with the size is that the testicles/funnel rubs against my inner thighs, causing the skin to be rubbed raw. If you have quite slim thighs, this shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I however, have quite thick thighs so unless I walked like a cowboy, I had to deal with the rubbing.

Onto the look of it. I think if I had gone for the painted option, I would have been happier with the way it looked. But it was an expensive extra that would have faded and rubbed off over time. So even though it matched my skintone, it unfortunately didn’t look at all realistic. The shape looked good, but the all over colour let it down.

Ok, so the Freetom Rogue is uncomfortable, looks terrible and makes you look a bit Ron Jeremy, so what did I like about it?

This is the most heartbreaking ( for me ) part of all. I could pee with this first time. No leaking at all. I was able to get the whole shaft out of my underwear and jeans without it bending too much and therefore blocking the flow. Big enough to take in hand and all was needed to make sure it stayed close to your body was to cup the testicles and gently press upwards.

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I’ve not been able to pee first time and continuously be able to pee without any problems with any other prosthetic. And for me that is terribly disappointing. I think that if you can deal with the things I didn’t like about it, then the Freetom Rogue is very good as an STP.

I have yet to have sex using it, but to try it out for the review, I did use it as a dildo and also tested out the pleasure ridges on the top inside of the funnel. The thickness of the Rogue does feel good when used to penetrate. But as for the pleasure ridges… It doesn’t line up properly with my anatomy. But, everyone is different, so I am sure it will work for someone. It just wasn’t the right one for me.

If you would like to get your own, you can buy it at: freetomprosthetics.com

Next Sunday I will be reviewing the EZP by Transthetics.

With love,

Patroclus

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I didn’t realise I was transgender until my mid-twenties. Growing up I knew that something was awry, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what it was. There wasn’t much information about trans people when I was a kid. The most I saw was from late night documentaries on channel four in which trans women spoke about being a ‘woman trapped in a man’s body.’

It was always filmed in a ‘look at the weirdos’ fashion that makes my skin crawl just thinking back on it. I do think that a lot of my internal transphobia in the beginning of my transition came from those documentaries. And due to only seeing trans women being talked about, I didn’t think that it could be done the other way too. Of course looking back it should have been logical to think that transgender men could exist. But I was a child, both fascinated and frightened by what I was watching.

I came out as transgender first and then a few years later I came out as gay. I suppose I just wanted to have to deal with one thing. Thinking that, if I could make things simpler for myself, if I could just try to be as ‘normal’ as I could; then life might be a little easier. But, life is rarely simple or easy.

As expected, me coming out as gay brought out more questions. But mostly, it had confused people. Some had been under the impression that I had transitioned so that I could date and be in relationships with women. After pointing out several times that lesbians do indeed exist and that if I was a lesbian, then I wouldn’t be transitioning, a couple of people slowly started to get it. But most were still unsure and often the words ‘real man’ would come up.

How would I expect a gay man to want me? Why would they date me when they could have a ‘real man?’ Would I be getting surgery ‘down there’? Because that’s the only way I could persuade a gay man to go out with me.

( I would like to point out that these people are no longer my friends )

As much as I tried to ignore this, it was something that filtered into my sub-conscience and I ended up thinking about it far more than I wanted to. My google search history became a long series of the same question asked in different ways.

Would a gay man date a trans man?

Do cis gay men have trans man boyfriends?

How to get a boyfriend if you are transgender?

The information I got back didn’t look good at all. I had managed to stumble upon a couple of TERF forums which probably didn’t help. And then there were the forums in which trans men were asking the same things I was, posing the question to cis gay men ( instead of just aimlessly throwing questions at google ).

The responses I found were mixed. There were a few who said they would be happy to date a trans man, some said that they’d consider it if the trans man in question was ‘masculine enough’, others said they weren’t sure. And then of course there were the ones who decided that harping on about needing a ‘real man’ with a ‘real dick’ was the right option.

Real sensitive of you there, guys. Thanks for that one.

It’s because of these worries that I am still slinking around the edges of the gay community. This was going to be a blog post about my first time in a gay club as a gay man, but it seems to have veered sharply off into another direction. But that first real ( for me ) night in the gay club still has a place here I think. I had wanted to go for such a long time, but that fear was there. What if I wasn’t gendered correctly? What if someone ‘found out’ I was transgender? I have been trying to be ‘stealth’ in order to just get on with life and not be bothered. And so the idea of being outed in the middle of a club was terrifying to me.

I am certain that no one would have really cared, and if someone was put off by it, then they wouldn’t stick around and nothing of value would be lost. But that fear clung to me and I needed to just jump in and, in a way, get it over and done with.

By the time I managed to go to a gay club, I was being gendered correctly 90% of the time and I hoped that would be enough. I took one of the housemates with me as back up and took a couple of shots of liquid courage. I had no real goal, only to go out and dance with my friend and have a good time. Bonus points if I got to dance with a cute guy – But not the main objective.

I did in fact get to dance with a cute guy, but alas! Due to me not knowing the flirting etiquette, I gave the impression that I wasn’t interested in anything other than a friendly wriggle on the dance-floor. And yes, I wasn’t really ready for more than that, but I still kicked myself when I realised. I’d accidentally been playing hot and cold with him, and I feel rather bad about that.

I’m kind of learning as I go. Learning how to date, figuring out how to navigate hook ups and in general I’d like to get more gay friends with whom I can talk about these kinds of things. I am very lucky to have Comic Dad ( Pseudonym used to protect both our identities ) and his lovely Husband in my life. He takes and answers my questions graciously and holds my hand as I pick my way across certain minefields.

I shall go more into the actual experience of being gendered correctly in a gay club and how that felt in a different post as this one is getting rather long. But I am glad to say that the world didn’t end, the sky didn’t fall and no one begrudged me being there.

There have been other times after that which didn’t go as well. But I will tell you that story another time.

With love,

Patroclus

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