Walk the walk

So I'm packing today. I don't pack very often- my body dysphoria, in its own selective way, doesn't really trouble me much about what's between my legs. I'm not naive enough to think that being a dickless guy doesn't bother me at all, but it hasn't been a major issue for me yet. Though I wonder if it'll emerge as a more prominent one once other more pressing dysphoric concerns are resolved, i.e after T and chest surgery take me into a different relationship with my body.

That is something I wonder- what's the process of coming to terms with my body going to be like? T and top surgery are definitive stated goals of mine, because of the way I believe that they will reshape my body to make me more comfortable with it. I wonder, though, if there's an accelerating margin of discomfort- that is, will I discover new discomforts as I resolve old ones, and will an increasing comfortability in some areas heighten the contrast and sharpen my discomfort in others?

That's basically my major concern about starting T before having chest surgery- I think the masculinization of my body due to T is going to make me quite happy, and I will be therefore correspondingly less happy with my chest. I am looking forward to having chest hair, and I am really not interested in still having breasts once I do.

And I've heard guys online talking about how T really accentuated or in some cases seemed to create desires for further physical steps in transition, like an interest in having bottom surgery, for example. Having been okay as a cunted creature (Alix Olson reference, anyone?), through being on testosterone, they found that they now were more dissatisfied with the lack of a cock, and started reprioritizing bottom surgery as a definite goal.

Which, in a roundabout way, leads me back to my actual topic for the day, and that is the unusual bulge in my corduroys. Most of the time when I pack, it's for a special occasion- a date, or going out, or a deliberate outfit/costume/look. But this morning I just decided that my somewhat snug, slightly flared, low rise (aka very metrosexual. okay. gay.) brown corduroy pants deserved a correspondingly gay basket.

And so I've spent the day with a bulge in my pants that I wonder is even noticable to anyone but myself. On the other hand, what are my coworkers going to say? "Eli, dude, looks like you're packing heat today!"

and yes, I've noticed that I'm swaggering a little bit- though that could just be due to the not insignificant physical space that I'm not used to having occupied between my legs. And I'm acting a little more (forgive me) cocky than usual.

It doesn't make me feel like more of a man. Though I'd probably say that for political anti-phallocentrism reasons anyway, even if it did. (And that's an interesting question for future pondering: what does make me feel like more/less of a man?) But I really don't feel more/less manly.

I do feel more sexually charged than usual, which is not totally unexpected, but also a matter of scale- I'm essentially an adolescent guy in a lot of ways, I'm pretty much always sexually charged. Though I usually do feel sexier when I am feeling more solidly/validly (ooh, problematic word, but it's definitely what I meant) male, so on the other hand maybe there is something about this bulge that's confirming my identity to me.

At least the guys on the street in Chelsea will have something to look for when I'm on my way to my transman group tonight.