Autogynephilia is the term coined in 1989 by Ray Blanchard to refer to “a man’s paraphilic tendency to be sexually aroused by the thought or image of himself as a woman.”^[3]

That’s quite the mouthful. And in most trans forums, any mention of the topic and you’re likely to get a mouthful of perspectives on the term. Most trans people despise the term, with very good reason. The term focuses on a person’s sexuality, essentially taking our valid gender identities and presenting it solely as a fetish. Now, to be fair, a fetish isn’t a bad thing. The problem here is that the term, when applied to transgender people, invalidates their personal experiences with their lived identities.

Though most don’t, some trans women do feel as if autogynephilia is part of their experience, especially those who are early in their transition. Due to the presence of testosterone in our bodies, it becomes very easy to take the comfort we feel from wearing the clothes of our identified gender, and sexualize it. Our entire society puts such a heavy emphasis on sex, plus often the first image a person has when they hear “transgender” is that of a crossdresser getting off from wearing panties. With this in mind, it’s no wonder those who are still exploring their gender identity learn to sexualize it! However, as the majority of these people start to understand their gender identity better, they realize that their gender identity encompasses so much more than this “fetish.”

Now, let’s look a little bit at the history of the term. As noted in the Wikipedia excerpt above, it was coined in 1989 by the sexologist Ray Blanchard. He did his work from what was then known as the Clarke Institute. It’s now the Centre for Addictions and Mental Health (CAMH). Early on, autogynephilia had two major supporters; J. Michael Bailey and Anne Lawrence. Due to their involvement, autogynephilia is often referred to derogatorily by the trans community as the “BBL theory.”

J. Michael Bailey wrote a book called The Man Who Would Be Queen in 2003. The book presented research that backed Blanchard’s theory, but was discredited in part from members of the trans community who pointed out Bailey’s poor research practices. Essentially, Bailey injected his own biases into his research, and invalidated the lived experiences of his patients by behaving as a classic gatekeeper; he required his patients to present and behave a very specific way matching his own idea of what a transsexual person is, before he would prescribe treatment to his patients.

Anne Lawrence is a trans woman who is a vocal proponent of the autogynephilia theory. She’s also a medical doctor, and has used autogynephilia to proclaim herself to be a “real transsexual,” driven by her mental illness (autogynephilia) to transition. This statement invalidates the identity of the vast array of trans people deemed by her to be “not real” because they don’t fall under this theory or Blanchard’s other theory, the “homosexual transsexual,” which he sees as simply men that are so gay, they need to be a woman to fit into society.

The CAMH is a notorious institute within the trans community; it adheres to archaic ideas of what a trans person must be in order to transition. It is led by Dr. Kenneth Zucker, another autogynephilia supporter. It’s important to note that he also supports reparative therapy for transgender children, a practice that has recently been deemed harmful by the American Psychological Association. Indeed, his critics suggest that by his use of the therapy, he is committing child abuse. Zucker is unfortunately the chair of the group reviewing the Sexual and Gender Identity Disorders section of the DSM-V, a publication which is used as the primary guide for psychiatrists to diagnose mental disorders. Bailey is also a member of this group. Zucker is expected to use his position to get autogynephilia added to the DSM-V as a mental disorder.

Question: How does your experience with your gender identity relate to the autogynephilia theory?

I know what you might be thinking.

“What makes you such an expert? How do you know there are a lot of trans people having cyber sex, if they’re so stealth while online?”

Well, I’m an expert for several reasons. One, because I have spent a lot of time in sex groups online. Two, because I know a lot of trans people. And three, when one’s sexuality is socially repressed, where else do you go? Now, I rarely advertise my trans status in online sex spaces, because I happen to detest my male genitals, and do not want to be fetishised for them. On the other hand, I’m not stealth either, and will disclose it freely if the topic should arise. And does it ever arise! For some elusive secret reason, discussions of gender and identity are commonplace in internet sex circles (not to be confused with circle sex, which, incidentally, is also great). When I mention my own gender identity, the most common response is a casual acknowledgement followed by well-intended questions. At the least, this alone should give you some indication as to how many people are at least curious about gender variance.

The amount of gender variance visible to the naked eye should be another indicator of how widely we are spread, even if not all of us label ourselves transgender. This is especially true in the popular virtual world simulation Second Life.

“Wait, you mean the video game?”

Well yes, but no. There are games within Second Life, but in and of itself, it is certainly not a game. People interact, create, buy, sell, travel, explore, build, and yes, even fuck each other inside of this video game-esque virtual environment. It even has a real working economy, which saw $144 million US dollars travel through in Q2 2009 alone. It also has real opposition. Interestingly, the loudest opposition to sex-positive virtual space is the religious right. There are even missionary groups who wonder the virtual streets daily, bringing the word to the fuzzy-wuzzies in sinful cyber-land.

“Wait a sec. The religious right? How did the church crowd come to know of our activities there?”

Hmmm…

“But why bother with a virtual life, when you can do all that stuff in the real world? You’re a lazy ninny, and you smell of pizza.”

Hey, who doesn’t like pizza? Actually, the reason that over 7 million people have second life accounts is, at it’s very core, the inherent freedom of identity. From clothing style, to social behaviour, to hobbies, to the way we have sex, Second Life offers a place where literally millions of people have felt comfortable being the true selves that real life society does not accept.

“Wow! Seems like my gender dysphoria is similar to the restrictions a lot of people feel!”

Yes, and our visibility due to our physical change, and our refusal to conform to society’s comfort level, make it even harder for us to cope. That and, like other visible deviants, we have a stigma that society has attached to us. This stigma is brutal and merciless. It tells us we are not wanted; that we are inferior. It is little wonder that an estimated 31% of trans people commit suicide, and over 50% have attempted suicide before the age of 20. That makes me a sad bunny.

“I love bunnies! I would just love to hope around in a bunny suit all day! But I don’t, of course. That would be silly.”

Many people have aspects of their identity which they hide because society at large finds it silly, awkward, or even repulsive. Transsexuals are people who have gone through great lengths and hardships, suffering public humiliation and rejection, to be their true selves. You know what? That makes me a proud bunny! To all the partners of trans people: praise your special someone for their amazing courage and genuine spirit. Do it now!

^_^

Okay… back to sex.

“Jeez, you’re a horny one, ain’t ya?”

Well, I may be in bed with the topic, but it’s why we’re here, isn’t it? So now that we’ve established why trans-folk hang out and have sex online, lets move ahead for the juicy details (pun intended!), and go on to the what. What do we do? What do we fantasise about? What are our fetishes? What kind of virtual partners do we look for? What kind of online environments attract us? Virtual sex is every bit as diverse as physical sex, if not more so. Any stretch of the imagination is possible.

Fact is, we deserve to be able to participate in and talk about sex without being invalidated or marginalised, the cyber kind included. No, sex is not the only reason we transitioned, but for many of us, it’s a big one. Cis people can love their parts but we can’t? I’m having none of it.

So tell us, how do you like to get e-down?