What's Sex Like - After A Sex Change?

Trans Woman, Nomi, Discusses Sex After Surgery

According to Nomi, nobody talks about sex in the trans community. No one wants to talk to a trans about it either, due to concerns about offending. “A lot of girls won’t even talk about it among themselves,” she said. “But I’d like to be someone who can open up this conversation.”

In an ironic twist the trans community now view Nomi as a cis person (someone born and identifying as the same gender). The subject of trans sex is now off-topic to her now.

“I think a lot of people, when they think of trans females, they think ‘a girl with a penis,’” she said. “And if you’re post-op, they think you just had your penis cut off. There’s still this shock factor to having a sex change. People think, ‘Eww, that’s so horrible’ or ‘That’s so crazy.’”

“Sometimes, if I’m dating a guy but I don’t want to sleep with him right away, he’s like, ‘Oh, because it doesn’t work.’ Or people think you can’t orgasm. They don’t realize the reality. But if they knew how beautiful and how natural the vagina really is, and how it’s so in tune with your mind and your body, I think people would start seeing it as sexy rather than as a science experiment. I mean, even I didn’t know the possibilities.”

“There was this myth that you could never orgasm, that there’s no sensitivity, and that you could never enjoy sex again,” Nomi said. “So there was always that fear and that risk. But eventually I got to the point where I was like, ‘I don’t care. I’d rather not enjoy sex than live this way.’”

“The conversation with my doctor beforehand was hilarious, because it’s sort of customized,” Nomi said. “She asked me: What are you looking to achieve? Like, are you a lesbian, are you interested in being penetrated? Is it more important to focus on the nerve endings in your clit, or do you want a lot of depth? Or do you want both? I was like, ‘I want it all. Go for gold.’”

You’re basically fucking yourself - vaginal dialators.

“They give you four dilators, with a ruler on them. You’re basically fucking yourself: You slowly increase the size, so that you keep the depth and width you’ve achieved.” This process takes six months. “And then you have to dilate once a week for the rest of your life, unless you’re having sex,” Nomi continued. “So now when I’m not having sex, it’s kinda sad, because you’re really reminded of it. You’re like, ‘Oh, God, I have to dilate now because I’m not getting laid. Fuck.’”

"It's brand-new!" - Nomi

At first, Nomi was hesitant to jump into being sexually active: “I didn’t want to give my vagina to every guy, because I was like, ‘Duh, it’s brand-new!’” When she did start having sex, it felt kind of weird for a while. “I was really self-conscious, because I was blaming all of the awkward sex on my neo-vagina,” Nomi said. “I was like, Maybe it’s not working. It’s not like other girls’ vaginas. It’s not right. I’m not getting pleasure.” The first time she got head, it basically felt like nothing, so she called up her BFF, a cis girl, in a panic. “I was like, ‘Girl, is it normal to just feel like you’re rubbing on a carpet when a guy is eating you out?!’ She was like, ‘Oh, girl, yeah, sometimes it’s a fucking nightmare.’”

Nomi was faced with a harsh reality: A lot of guys just aren’t that great with their tongue. “I realized he just wasn’t good at it,” Nomi said. “But then, when I met a guy who was good at it, I was like, ‘Oh, duh, okay, it really depends. It’s not like jerking off a penis.’ When I had better lovers, things changed. It took meeting the right guy, slowly fingering me, seeing how I reacted. You need someone to help you enjoy your body, not someone who just wants to fuck you.”

As she continued to explore her body, sex became better than she ever imagined. “When I was turned on, I would get really wet, and I was shocked, because I’d never heard a trans girl say that her vagina got wet,” she said. “I didn’t realize that it would be this beautiful, natural part of me. I was like, ‘Holy shit, this is beyond what I thought my sex life could be.’” She paused for dramatic effect. “But I still love anal sex. The best sex is if we do both. But I learned that you can’t go back and forth, because I got a UTI from that. I was like, ‘Fuck, this is what having a vagina is like?!’ My friend was cracking up, like, ‘Girl, you wanted a pussy.’ I was like, ‘This is too real.’”

Other changes noticed were more mental than physical. “Before the sex change, sex was almost violent,” she said. “It was like shooting a gun, like I’ve got to get rid of this. But now I really have to be present and be into the person in order for my body to react. Like, my vagina will basically reject a penis if I’m not into the sex. But if I am into it, it gets really open and moist. I feel sex is more attached to my brain now. And I can keep having more sex after I orgasm, whereas before, after I came, I was like, ‘I’m done, thanks.’”

In other words, Nomi’s experience became an almost clichéd account of sex as a woman—i.e., often, reaching orgasm can feel like an epic psychological journey that requires laser focus. You have to be in the right headspace, with the right atmosphere. You know, candles or whatever. And Nomi isn’t the only trans woman to say this. 

For a while, Charlie was worried she was never going to enjoy sex again. “I never felt that at ease,” she said. “I don’t think any of the guys I slept with actually gave me an orgasm, which sucks.” But like Nomi, eventually she met the right sexual partner, and after enough personal experimentation, she was able to relax and feel pleasure. “I definitely enjoy sex now,” she said, adding that climaxing is every bit as good and intense as it ever was. “You just have to figure it out as you go along, and feel your way through things.”