Ale:
Do you want to start by telling me your name, pronouns, age, and where you’re from?
Evan:
My name is Evan, I’m 27 years old, I use he/him, and I’m a born and bred New Yorker from the Bronx.
Ale:
How did you hear about the project, and what made you want to participate?
Evan:
I heard about the project on social media. I missed doing work around reproductive justice, and I feel like it’s a topic that very few trans men speak about when it comes to their experiences with reproductive health. A lot of the talk surrounding trans men is about transitioning and trying to attain or shape their masculinity, but it’s so much more nuanced than that, especially trans men who are queer and trans men who have sex with cis men, which also rarely gets talked about.
Ale:
Tell me about the work you’ve done in reproductive health.
Evan:
I was a gender studies major in undergrad, and I did my dissertation on reproductive health. I felt like it was in my self-interest to delve into the subject because I was solely having sex with cis men and I also have a long history on my mother’s side of the family with reproductive health issues, things like infertility to vaginal cysts to ovarian cancer. I personally always had some kind of UTI or yeast infection and a lot of flare-ups, and none of it was sexually transmitted. It was never an STI, which is not a bad thing, but to give context, it was never because I was having sex, it was just because of my reproductive system and my genes. But when I wanted answers, I kept going to these doctors who didn’t know what to tell me. And I was constantly taking antibiotics, which is horrible for your body, or getting those over-the-counter creams, what are they called?
Ale:
The one for itchiness? I think the popular one is called Vagisil
“I sat there and listened to him talk to me about my cis male body that I didn’t have”
Evan:
Yes, which is disgusting, it never really works, and sometimes it makes things worse. So my dissertation was fueled by my own experiences, and it was very academically involved, and I combined gender theory with the history of the reproductive health movement. Then I did a lot of medical research, which there’s not a lot of done in the U.S. most of it was from Canada, and it centers on trans men who have sex with cis men and their experiences with doctors.
Ale:
You mentioned you added your own experiences to your research, how was your experience navigating your reproductive health?
Evan:
A lot of appointments trying to find a gynecologist who could actually help me. There were some times when I couldn’t get an appointment, and I had to go to urgent care, and those experiences were probably the worst, because you don’t know how you’re going to get treated, and you don’t know whether they have the knowledge or the social skills. Going to the doctor is always uncomfortable, even if it’s a doctor that you see periodically, but in urgent care is worse because I always feel perceived and like I have to out myself and I never know how I’m going to be received.
I remember one time when I couldn’t get an appointment with my doctor, I went to Montefiore with a UTI and I needed antibiotics. When the receptionist asked why I was coming to see the doctor, I remember whispering UTI and it was so uncomfortable. This happened when I was still in college, probably 20 years old, and my documents had already changed [post-transition], so they assumed I was a cis man. I feel like doctors already have huge egos, some sort of God complex, but when this doctor walks in into the room, he doesn’t ask any questions and instead starts lecturing me about my penis and how men typically don’t get UTIs, that it only happens to women, and he lectures me about my diet and how I’m not drinking enough water.
In that moment I felt I had a dilemma in essence: do I come out? I already felt so uncomfortable and Montefiore is not exactly known for advocating to treat LGBTQ patients, it’s a very conservative medical institution – So I was like, do I come out, or do I not come out? So I just didn’t come out. I sat there and listened to him talk to me about my cis male body that I didn’t have, and when he was prescribing me the medication, I just asked if it worked for both males and females. He looked at me weirdly, said yes, and gave me a pamphlet about how to take care of my penis when I have a UTI.
Ale:
Is it horrible that I’m not surprised something like this happened?
Evan:
No, but when I left I was so frustrated. I was with my parents and when I was complaining about my experience they told me, “you got what you needed, what are you complaining about?” This was at a point when they were still not understanding or accepting of my transition. That experience sparked my research and advocating for myself and finding a doctor who could help me with my reproductive health, but it was a long haul. Most doctors didn’t know what to do with me, they said it could be my genes, it could be the testosterone, but all I knew was that they couldn’t just keep giving me antibiotics.
Ale:
Taking antibiotics long-term is so bad for your body.
Evan:
Yes! I found myself a gyno who was very understanding and very sweet. She was a Black woman, which was already a check because Black women have had their own horrible history with reproductive health so she had empathy for me and understanding, she never made me feel like an alien. In situations like this, trans people feel even more othered or like some sort of Frankenstein monster, because reproductive health is solely centered on cis women, and I’m made to feel like I’m taking space in something that is only for them. I’ve been the only trans man in waiting rooms, the only other time there was a man there, it was because their girlfriend or partner was pregnant.
Ale:
Did you ever find the answers you were looking for?
Evan:
I did, I had to find the right balance. For a while, I had to stop taking my testosterone, because I had atrophy and for a really long time it was bad. Then, I tried a combination of things so I could keep taking my testosterone and what helped was localized estrogen. Basically you take estrogen specific for your vaginal health twice a week and it doesn’t affect your hormone therapy at all. This has improved my health significantly and I’m also very conscious of giving my body as much probiotics as possible. This doctor was great because instead of giving me antibiotics she gave me holistic ways to take care of myself, combined with medical options, like the localized estrogen.
“…reproductive health is solely centered on cis women, and I’m made to feel like I’m taking space in something that is only for them.”
Ale:
When situations like this happened, did you have any you could talk to?
Evan:
No. Despite our complicated relationship, my mother understood because it was because of her that I was suffering, I got her genes, and she suffers from the same thing, but I never really had anyone to talk to about it. When I tried to talk about it with the guys that I was romantically or sexually involved with, it went over their heads. Which is also something that came up in my research, how trans men put their reproductive health on the back burner just to please cis men’s desires and sexual needs, and to feel the euphoria of being in their masculinity.
In my experience, cis men often just ask for what they want, and if it’s not functioning correctly, that’s your issue and I don’t want anything to do with it. I’ve had a lot of experiences with men when she’s not doing great [Evan points to his vagina] and they can’t get what they want or I’m not able to give them the pleasure that they’re seeking, and then getting retaliation for it, like I’m some kind of sex doll.
Ale:
How do you feel about it now? Did anything change and do you now have people whom you could talk to about this experience?
Evan:
I still don’t have people that I talk to. I have very few trans-masc friends that I’m trying to explore with more. I’m in a non-monogamous relationship with my partner, and I just met a trans man with whom I’m kindling a relationship, but all of my trans friends are dolls [trans women]. The way that I walk in the world as a trans man is very fluid, I embody my masculinity just as much as my femininity. There are moments where I’m super masc and giving daddy energy, and then the next I’m just kiking. I have no shame and from what I’ve seen on social media and the trans men that I connected with, they try to embody machismo.
There’s so much toxic masculinity when it comes to trans men. Sometimes I’m like “y’all are just as bad as cis men,” not as bad because cis men are another fu⁕⁕ing breed, but I think that’s also why there are not a lot of conversations around trans men’s sexuality and reproductive health, because of that toxic masculinity. Trans people are rarely mentioned unless we’re being sexualized or talking about our bodies in transition, but that’s also because there aren’t any trans men speaking about other things central to our experience, like reproductive health.
Ale:
Maybe some people feel that talking about it threatens their masculinity.
Evan:
Yes, and I get it that some trans men feel dysphoric about their reproductive system and their vagina, but I’m the total opposite. I call her she and there’s no dysphoria for me around that, I actually feel empowered despite my bad experiences with reproductive health and despite my transitioning I feel like pu⁕⁕y is powerful. Regardless of how the person identifies, men go crazy for it to the point that the government tries to control it and I just wish that more trans men saw that and felt proud of it because the reproductive justice movement would be so much stronger if we were united.
Ale:
It’s almost as if reproductive health is an antidote to toxic masculinity. Do you want to tell me more about your experiences with cis men?
Evan:
I have a very complicated history with men. I didn’t have sex until I was 20 and I transitioned when I was 17, very late bloomer and very naive. My first boyfriend was 33 when I was 19 and all the men I was sexually involved with after that were groomers and they just kept getting older. I think that was because of my own upbringing. bell hooks talks about that, and she has helped me so much in my healing journey. She said “we seek the love that we never got from our parents,” and that’s exactly what these men were for me. They were filling in the space for what my parents never gave me and they mirrored characteristics from the most toxic parts of them.
Ale:
Like what?
Evan:
The men I was involved with were narcissistic, charismatic, and very manipulative, which goes hand in hand with my reproductive health struggles, because I would have a lot of flare-ups when these men caused me a lot of stress, especially the first one, because he was very aggressive and angry and actually abusive. I remember one time when he got mad at me for getting tested because he saw it as me thinking he was dirty, and this is coming from a man who thought a condom was a symbol of lack of trust. He tried to control me through the sexual relationship that we had, and that was probably the period of time when my reproductive health was at its worst.
I would have a lot of vaginal cysts or a lot of yeast infections and UTIs, because they all wanted to have unprotected sex. I didn’t prioritize my health because I was prioritizing their pleasure and servicing them. Part of that was because I wanted to feel wanted and get the validation that comes from men in particular, it’s kind of like a high or like a drug in a way. By the way, they were all a copy pasted from each other.
Ale:
Anyone who’s ever experienced any kind of misogyny is very familiar with the feeling of wanting to be approved of by a man. It’s almost like we’ve been conditioned to seek that validation no matter what, or maybe it’s just chronic daddy issues haha
Evan:
Hahahaha but also chronic mommy issues, and add to that how vulnerable young trans people are even though they are technically adults, how predatory gay cis men can be. I feel like it’s a common thread regardless of how the person identifies. It could be a trans woman, a trans man, a nonbinary person, even cis women are at the end of that, but in a non sexual way that ends up being just outright misogynistic.
Ale:
There’s a very specific brand of misogyny that gay cis men could have that feels more damaging than just straight-up misogyny.
Evan:
Yeah, it’s horrible. After being groomed for so long, I reached a fine line and I just started becoming reckless with my safety. I met this guy on Grindr and when I got in his car he got really violent and verbally threatened me and outright told me I was not a man, that I was too emotional, like a bitch. He actually lived in my neighborhood and became my first stalker, because I don’t mean to be cocky, but my pu⁕⁕y is platinum. He threatened to physically hurt me if he ever saw me and he knew where I lived, I got PTSD from it.
While this was all happening I had the biggest flare up and I got a vaginal cyst the size of a potato. I had to get surgery because it kept getting bigger and bigger and it was really bad. That was an epiphany for me, that’s when I stopped dating men and I just wanted to be with a trans person. I got tired of not feeling understood and of not getting empathy, or having to constantly explain myself and how my transness and my reproductive health affected me. My reproductive health has been really good since.
“I don’t mean to be cocky, but my pu⁕⁕y is platinum.”
Ale:
How was the transition from solely dating cis men to dating trans folks?
Evan:
I met Jane [current girlfriend] and that was it. Before her I felt very submissive and I was twinky as f⁕⁕k, but she actually has helped me a lot to embody my masculinity. I was never “masc enough” because of the power dynamics I was in with men and my very low self-esteem. She’s really helped me with my confidence and my fluidity and my masculinity and my femininity, and she loves them both. She loves my masc energy and when I’m daddy, but then there are moments where we’re together and I’m mimicking Alaska Thunderf⁕⁕k or we’re both kiking to Lady Gaga. It’s the first healthy relationship I’ve ever had, and it’s brought me a lot of healing.
[Evan told Ale earlier how he was slightly hungover because he and his partner went to a Lady Gaga drag performance and album release party the night before this interview.]
Ale:
That’s really sweet. I’ve heard this from other people. Whenever they start dating another trans person, especially a trans femme, it affirms their gender. Do you have any other people in your life that you’ve learned how to be in your gender?
Evan:
I don’t have any male figures to look up to at all. The only person I can think of is Bad Bunny, and that’s only because he embodies both masculinity and femininity impeccably, and he doesn’t give a sh⁕⁕, but even then, I don’t necessarily look up to him. I’m actually still trying to find confidence in my masculinity and find it within myself and define what it means for me. I’m so grateful for trans women, because I would not be where I am without trans femmes.
Ale:
Tell me more, do you think trans femmes taught you how to be a man, whatever that means?
Evan:
A hundred percent. They will fucking read you for filth and they’ll let you know the tea and I appreciate that so much. They’re f⁕⁕⁕ing unicorns.
