Posts tagged smell

Which way to face?

What, then of orientation? No. Not north-south stuff. Don’t be silly!

I mean sexual orientation. A friend (not the one with the unusual view on anatomy, as per previous post) has been expressing to me her own frustrations at being currently single and unpartnered. I rather think she “needs a man” – if only occasionally – and she has been trying to explain to me what it is about that particular species (sorry, gender!) she finds attractive.

Various features seem to crop up, not just with her, but with other hetero women: the smell, the feel, the bristliness, the strength. Even – though this one is beyond me! – the intellectual approach. And almost without exception I can put a large bold “x” against each and every item on the list.

I’m not keen on how men smell, feel, move, dress. I’m not keen on men, period – though perhaps not quite as alienated from the gender as I was a year ago. I like, and in the past, have liked, men who are very effeminate: soft, long hair, curly lashes. If anything, though, that feels as though it underlines the fact that I remain steadfastly oriented, sexually, towards women.

Will that change? Stats suggest that some proportion of trans women “re-orient” at some point in their transition: though whether that is a true re-orientation, or simply an outing of what was always there, beneath the surface, is hard to tell.

I don’t feel as though I am going to. But how would I know in advance? I know I am that much more sensitive to smell nowadays and, if men started to smell nice, I think that would make me re-think my ways a bit.

Julie Bindel, scourge of trans women, has also pissed off many in the lesbian community by arguing that sexuality – and hence lesbianism – is a choice. In her case, based on a particular politics: but a choice nonetheless.

I may not see eye to eye with Ms Bindel on trans issues: but I can see her point that sexuality is not necessarily some determinist fact of nature. Indeed, I think that the Gay movement does itself great harm in responding to jibes of “unnaturalness” by working over-hard to show a biological basis for sexual orientation (though that’s a whole other topic).

Is it possible, therefore that some men, some women, orient not because they are naturally gay, bi or heterosexual – but because social pressure amongst their peer group makes it easier to fit one orientation as opposed to another? No idea – though it does raise some interesting speculation for myself.

Might I just find it easier, post-op, to re-orient? To bring men into my life as sexual partners? Haven’t the faintest, although at this moment, it does feel as though the most likely answer is no.

There are just two reasons for thinking that it might ever be otherwise: first, that my friend is but one of a few women I know who are quite enthusiastic about the proposition. Clearly they think I would be happier if I discovered the joy of sex with a bloke and, whilst not exactly evangelistic about it, are definitely very positive.

Second, more amusing, is the way I find men reacting to me. Definitely so much more flirting than before – especially where there are no clues to my trans status (I get a lot of e-mail from readers of my mainstream scribblings). Flirts, and knowing comments, and compliments and…well, all manner of stuff I never dreamed went on. Or maybe I sort of was aware of it, but from the other side.

Definitely nice to be on the receiving end.

So its an issue I’ll shelve for now. I think I know the answer but, if transition has told me anything, it is that things we thought we knew all too often turn out to be mirage. Time will tell.

jane
xx

Comments (4) »

Pooh!

I may have mentioned this before but…since the hormones really kicked in, my sense of smell seems to have shifted somewhat.

First off, it is more intense. As someone who has hitherto been permanently afflicted by an almost total absence of olfactory sense, it is slightly disconcerting to notice that there is another dimension to the world around me. Things smell. Some nice. Some not-so-nice. Some downright nasty.

Sadly, for those wondering whether my (sexual) orientation is likely to shift as the hormones bite deeper, I’d place male smells pretty firmly in the last category.

A week or so back, sat opposite some anonymous student on the train, there was an unmistakeable whiff of sweaty maleness. Ugh!

Please! If one has to get close to that in order to connect sexually, it just isn’t going to happen.

Again, yesterday, travelling up to London and then on the tube. A couple of times I was stood or seated close to blokes: both times I scented raw male. On both occasions, the almost instant impulse was to get up and leave.

So is this “real”? Am I more sensitive? Or am I just believing I am? It could be either, I guess.

If hormones are capable of setting off such impressive growth in the boob department, I’d imagine them equally capable of generating a few more receptor cells in my nasal cavity. Or, failing that, of being able to sensitise my nervous system, perhaps taking some neurones closer to their potential edge, at which point I am more likely to smell things.

Dunno.

Eleanor, my sweet biochem expert: if you are reading this, please let me know.

jane
xx

Comments (1) »

Come-uppance

Of course, for every good thing, there has to be some downside…and with such a good day in prospect, something somewhere had to go wrong.

I guess it started on the tube. 25 minutes to catch my train…and on the platform waiting for the Piccadilly line at Piccadilly…when an announcement comes over about some selfish bastard…er, poor sod…who has gone under a train at Kings Cross. Always that double-edge on the tube: you can see it in the faces; a mixture of sympathy and suppressed seething rage that the simple journey home is now going to become a nightmare.

As it rapidly became.

OK. I can’t go piccadilly to KX. So Bakerloo to Oxford Circus and Victoria to KX? Mmmm. Except it was only as we approached KX that the driver politely informed us that we wouldn’t be stopping there and we were therefore shang-hai’d to Highbury. At Highbury, attempt to get on Victoria going South.

No go. No. Literally, the tube isn’t going because of a failed train (what the hell is a failed train? A bus?) at Victoria. For good measure, he adds that the signals are out too.

So over to National Rail…to Old St…Northern to KX, only to be told we won’t (you guessed it) be stopping at KX. An ordinary everyday London nightmare.

Catching my train home about an hour-and-a-half late…I am reminded of another side-effect of these hormone thingies…my sense of smell seems to be growing more acute. Either that or there are a lot of smelly blokes about.

First, weedy Jarvis Cocker look-alike sits opposite me and fishes something onion’y out of a bag and spends the next few minutes chewing at it. The onion is whiffy. He is more so.

Then Mohammed Ali junior…a mountain of a man…decided to sit next to me. He is careful, gentle in his movements…and large. I give up a third of my seat…and turn away, cause HE is whiffy too!

In desperation, I head for the loo for a refresh and to sort out my hair. I place my handbag on the sink which, unknown to me, is gifted with one of those delightful sensors that turns the tap on when it detects motion, or hands…or presumably even handbags.

I look down to find my handbag is wet. No. Not wet. That is the sort of thing that happens when you take a shower wearing nothing but your handbag. This was actually flowing with water. I lift the bag. An inch or more of water is sloshing about the bottom.

Eeeyuw.

My trip home is spent carefully lifting paper things out of my bag and patting them dry with tissue paper. I may need a new handbag!

jane
xx

Comments (6) »

Smells…

It always struck me, in my days as a fully paid-up bloke, that women tended to obsess about smell, to a degree that men didn’t.

As a psychologist, i did wonder – still do – whether this is not a hang-over from some pre-historic evolutionary mechanism. Men use scent as a means to dominate and to mark territory: women, on the other hand, see scent as dangerous. It gives away one’s position: it even, in truly pre-historic times, is a serious marker for sexual availability.

Dunno. No doubt an academic will be along in a moment to write that paper.

However, two observations. The first is that i think i smell a lot nicer as girl than bloke. I am “allowed” to wear nice scents and – much to andrea’s disgust – i tend to go for the sweet and slightly cloying.

Opium and Dior, if i have the money. Otherwise, bergamot, lemon and sweeter scented fragrances.

However, as of last week, something else has been happening. I walk into a room and catch a whiff of people. I walk down the street, and am assailed by a range of scents i don’t think i ever noticed before.

i have even started to notice me, in a way that, bloke-wise, i never really did before.

Hmmmm. Is this pure psychology? Or are the hormones doing something else now? Are they making my sense of smell more powerful? Or are they making me more sensitive? Hard to say.

I shall keep an eye on this one. Or perhaps a nose.

jane
xx

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