Friday, March 17, 2006


Thinking more about my chest, it seems like I'm coming down to a visual vs. tactile decision. Do I want a fairly definitely good-looking chest (despite more visible scars) with a distinct lack of sensations, or do I want a possibly saggy/visually less 'standard' chest with the likelihood of greater sensual (in the sensate as well as erotic sense of the word) enjoyment?

Waiting still to hear back from Dr. Fischer for further reassurance that I'm correct in assessing the likelihood of resulting sensation, but I'm beginning to tip further toward the latter option. My results might not end up looking like 100% normal man, but whose chest really does? Not to mention revision possibilites later, if I'm really not satisfied. It's worth it to me to have a chest that feels more authentically mine, and completely useable by me. This decision is weighing on me, because I want (I need) it to be the right one, and I want to be certain that I've considered all the options and possibilites, and made a good choice, and damnation, it's difficult.

In some ways, it seems to me like the peri surgery (because it's less invasive, perhaps?) will leave me with a chest that's closer to normal for my body. I'll be keeping my own nipples, and reshaping things, but there won't be such a drastic sense of removal of part of my body, and I like that.

This morning lying in bed I thought a lot about my body, and the impending changes I'm currently orchestrating, and I felt a rush of sadness that I've never felt before. When contemplating my transition, I've been thrilled, nervous, excited, happy, curious, but I haven't been sad yet.

I'm not sure quite where it was coming from, or what it was aimed at. I can only identify some parts, like the part that's similar to saying goodbye to someone you know very well and never quite got along with. Someone with whom you could feel the potential for friendship, but never connected, always had tension or awkwardness or miscommunication, but nonetheless spent a lot of time with.

I'm gung-ho about the journey I'm taking, but I also know that my body isn't going to ever be the same. It's not going to be the one I grew up with. Well, whose is, really? All of our bodies change so much, throughout our lives. Still, most don't change quite this drastically, and I'm a bit sorrowful at the prospect of losing a closeness and a familiarity, even though it's one I was never quite comfortable with.

I think, too, that I'm a little sad that I need to do this. I'd like to be happy with my body, and it's hard to know that I'm not happy with my own self, even as I'm excited about changing. Sometimes I wish I could be happy without complications- that I could've been born with a body that I'd be happy living in, or otherwise somehow feel that my body could adequately reflect my truth in its shape. And that's what I'm working towards: having a proper connection between me and my body. Just made me a little sad and heavy this morning to think about how that has to be so hard.

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