Listen to your body

 I thought a lot about whether to post something this personal. But I am going to.

I had to talk a lot last month about dysphoria as it's been affecting me way more than usual. Thank you again for your kind support. With the heatwave, I've been living mainly in swimwear or very light tees so my breasts, which have been expanding again this year, are very visible. I'm delighted with the extra boobage but, perhaps not surprisingly, I'm rather self-conscious about it, too. The left breast seems slightly bigger than the right, which is fine as asymmetry is normal enough, but what is puzzling (and delighting) me is that they are not the breasts of a woman of my (fairly advanced) years, which usually sag, but are rather perky and springy. Yay!

 

Not me, but an aspirational version of me. (Photo: Daniel Narsco)

 

I assumed that this sudden bout of gender dysphoria, or even body dysmorphia, was because the heatwave had brought a vast army of nubile, scarcely-clad women to the seaside here all at once. Irritatingly, I'd made my decision not to epilate so the contrast between the femininity around me and my current fuzz made it worse.

A four-hour train journey the other night, during which I felt a slight ache in my breasts that so characterised my original breast growth in 2010, set me thinking how my body has been a strong driver of my trans life. 

I will put here something that I have never mentioned before as it is very personal, perhaps unusual (I've not heard any trans person refer to a similar experience) and I've never been sure that I would be believed, but this is a transgender blog and so it is very relevant. In my 20s I experienced what I can only reasonably describe as period pains, a regular 4-week cycle of abdominal cramping. I became concerned enough to note it down, and so discovered its regularity, and I discussed it with my doctor who not unnaturally assumed it was an intestinal problem ...and I won't go into further details.

I went along with that diagnosis, though, even though my guts weren't the problem, as that was also the time when I was most suppressing my trans nature so any excuse for denial was a good one. I managed to spend over a year not dressing as a woman at all (believe me, that's a long time in Sue World), did a giant purge of my clothes, photos and everything else feminine, and even blocked any thoughts about being trans whenever they arose, which was very hard. I was determined to kill my trans desires off once and for all. 

In the end, though, that suppression exploded ferociously ... and the curious periodic cramps diminished as I finally embraced the knowledge that I was trans and started dressing every day. 

Move on several years and in 2010 my breasts grew suddenly just as I felt a strong need to get out in public dressed at last. And now that I have had a very subdued decade due to ill-health, emigration and so on, my breasts seem to be telling me something again.

I won't speculate on whether it's my body that responds in these very physical ways to a lack of fem time, or whether it drives my femininity in the first place and my need to be a woman, or any other theory. But my body has always been very much a living, responding part of this whole transgender experience of mine. I am curious as to whether anyone else has similar experiences, though I acknowledge that such personal things are not something one likes to talk about in public. I rarely do but here I have bared ... well, my breast! And more. This is a trans blog, so there.

The first thing I did once I'd got home from my train journey, despite its being the small hours of the morning, was paint my nails in clear varnish. I keep my nails long and feminine the way I love them. 

 

I'm now looking through the local directories for a waxing salon as, frankly, I'm not sure this "hairy for summer" idea is working this year. Full retirement is now approaching and then it may finally be time to talk to a doctor directly rather than by-the-by as previously about being trans and all these curious body events of mine. After all, breast screening doesn't seem an unreasonable request now, if nothing else, as I have sufficient breast tissue to be a routine concern. And possibly, just out of curiosity, look into any intersex, genetic, chimeric or similar issues that might be relevant here, which I guess I've not wanted to do before for reasons I'm not totally sure about. I remain very cautious about outing myself to the health authorities, though, given the current trend towards xenophobia all over the world, although things are better in European Union countries than in many other places, hence my move to Italy. (My thinking on this in 2018 is more relevant than ever in the UK, US, Russia and so on).

More developments as they happen, I guess. 

So, if I and my breasts may end this rather serious post in a more light-hearted way in Two Ronnies style, it's goodbye from me ... and it's goodbye from Pinky and Perky.

Sue x