Mel 4Ever on Love, Loads, Life, and Why Grindr is For the Dolls
Hello reader, I’m Mel 4Ever. I'm a pop artist living in Los Angeles, making songs about my body, sexuality, and, more recently—being obsessed with sucking dick. So if you are too (or just like slutty bangers), add my new single, “I Can’t Quit,” to your playlist now and thank me after you pick your jaw up off the ground.
I am possessed by sex right now. As a trans girl—it is still new to me—every time I close my eyes and lean in for a kiss, I think, “OMFG! HE'S STRAIGHT!” (ish). I write about sex because I know sex is in everything: the relationships we build, the advertising we see, the way we work, the way we design our bodies.
Sex is written into the code of Grindr, just like it’s been written into my code as an artist; it’s impossible to separate the two.
When I started transitioning medically, I thought the process would tear me away from Grindr, but what I’ve realized is that being trans helps me understand, fit into, and feel more powerful than ever on the app.
The Desert
My early years with Grindr felt like looking through a peephole. I grew up in Birmingham, Alabama—otherwise known to me as the “Gay Desert,” with my first gay experience being an hour and a half away from my house.
I started my Grindr experience looking from the outside in. Stepping out of the closet, one drunken toe at a time. The app was my first beacon to affirmative touch—and eventually—myself.
The Bazaar
When I first came out and moved to NY and opened Bestie (the grid), the number of penises that were physically above, below, beside, in front and behind me was… well—🤩. An ideal escape from the brooding gender dysphoria and loud clanging of “kill yourself” that rang in my head. I knew the only thing that could silence that noise was cum. Lots of it. I fucked for revenge, I fucked for clout, I fucked for pain, and I fucked for fun. For me, the load was affirmation. The load was validation. The load was self-worth—my gold star. After being with boys, I always learned a little bit more about myself. Knowledge is power, and it’s also terrifying.
Cross Dress to Impress
What happens when you live in Bushwick for 6 years and stop numbing yourself with drugs and alcohol? Gender. The time had cum for me to look inside and honor my true self. I didn’t know where to start or how to start. So, I used sex. Grindr provided a gorgeous virtual reality where I got to try on different characters. After all, one of my biggest concerns was, “But if I'm trans, will I be loved?”
The answer was not what I expected. When hot guys wanted to fuck a nonbinary no brows, no job, no make-up skills, I was like...woah. I realized there’s something for everybody. As I rowed through my gender river, each stop I made had something for me. I learned what worked for me and what didn't. I try not to think about it now… (I also tried out names. Kylie, Bella, KyBella.. fuck…)
The Double-Edged Sword
I’m still on Grindr (find me behind the handle “We Will See…”), but it’s not the same experiment it once was. Now, I’m direct and clear-headed about what I want. I know how to navigate the energy I meet, and I’m learning what to look for. The sweet boys who want to hold me, and the sweet boys I want to hold—they remind me of what feels right. Grindr served as my compass down the gender river. It helped me live and move more confidently in our imperfect world.
Grindr is a tool. I use it for me. I fuck for me. And that’s super fierce.
Dolls Run Grindr
Through the peephole, the Gay Desert, through the gender try-outs and down the river, I got what I wanted. We can make Grindr work for all of us. We can make this a safe place, we can look out for each other, and we can run it. For any of the boys out there who eye roll when they see the dolls on the grid, the NB’s wanting to side, or the people so clearly on the gender river, know that they are looking for the same thing you are.
Like boo, we have ALL been persecuted for our sexual desires, which, like it or not, is linked with gender. In our world now, where trans people are political chess pieces, and gays are "okay" as long as they follow a script—an app dedicated to connecting us and our genitals should be the absolute SAFEST place possible. We all remember our first time, so let's make it easier for everyone to get to their "next" time.
