Cock-less Boys

I have a confession to make...

I don't care much for "packing." I don't give a shit what's between my legs or what people think is between my legs. My sense of self, comfort, sexuality, pleasure, and desire don't either.

I also think sitting to pee is elegant.

Some masculine id'd peeps do enjoy packing and standing-to-pee as a matter of course and that's alright by me. Everybody has a preference. Sometimes I enjoy these things too, out of a sense of playfulness and gender fuckery.

What I find interesting is the dominant discourse around this stuff sometimes in trans/masculine circles. "Well, don't you want to know what it's like to put your cock in someone? Your fleshy cock?" Actually, I do know, thank you very much. My hands, junk, strap-ons, holes, skin, spirit, and mind all know what joining together with someone feels like...and I like it a lot. Even though it's hard to escape penis envy given the power, status, and privileges that come with having one, I wouldn't barter for one if I could. Not having one has shaped my entire being from the time I was an apple seed.

My whole identity has not been formed around the supremacy or inadequacies of my cock. I don't expect my cock to open literal or metaphorical doors for me. My ability to be contemplative, com/passionate, reflective, sensitive, and creative have all been grounded in a distinct absence of cis-male cockery. I think this would be much harder to achieve had I been born with dangly bits that represent cockiness. Which is why I appreciate sensitive, soft masculine type "cis" men in my life.

Subsequently, I don't unconsciously or otherwise seek to energetically penetrate and unconsensually dominate everything around me. I value women/feminine/two/multi spirits and trans people and the strength of receptivity. I don't equate vulnerability with weakness but with the healing and vast connective potential this world desperately needs.

*Being* for me has nothing to do with cocks and everything to do with spirit.