This post is PART 49 in a guest blogger series following author Rachael's transition from an A.M.A.B (Assigned Male at Birth) individual to that of a self-identified trans woman.
If you are just discovering Queer as me, start the story from the beginning here.
Change is something that, unless it’s happening to you abruptly, you don’t notice the small gradual differences. Although I had already been on estrogen for over two years, there are still changes going on. Not only on the outside of my body, which are usually quite obvious, but the internal changes are so much more profound I’m finding. I know that I have already touched on many of the things that have happened to myself while I’ve been transitioning, but this change was obvious just after the first year on estrogen.
My breasts, they have become much more noticeable
Now I understand that society wishes that every woman wears a bra.
Which I found while my breasts were growing, that a sports bra would save me immense pain by protecting my nipples.
But now that they have mostly stopped growing I am happy not to be wearing anything that constricts my chest. Now although I may be happy to go bra free, many other people seem to believe it’s their right to protect my breasts from being without a bra. At least once a day, for over a month, other women would gently pull me aside and explain that should start wearing a bra. I of course, thank them for their dedication to keeping my Ta-tas safe, but they are quite fine without the constricting nature of the bra. The surprise I see on their faces as I explain that I don’t need nor desire a bra at this time seems to astound them into shocked silence. Thank goodness, no man has asked me to start wearing one. Strange to think that they don’t seem to care. Of course, it does seem peculiar to me that many guys when walking by seem to walk into or trip over things, hmm maybe they’re just clumsy.
I am not sure if it’s because of the way I grew up, I wasn’t really paying attention to breasts during my adolescence. Nor were there any interest in them until I was married. But I do know that I feared that I would fetishize myself once they started to grow. But I’m so happy to report that never occurred, not even once. My dysphoria dropped quite a lot once they started to make their appearance. Besides I was too worried about hitting them on things, not to mention how truly painful the cold air could be as they were growing. Quite startling to say the least.
At this moment, they seem to have stopped growing. I think that they are just right, even though strangely the left one is a smidgen smaller than the right. Always learning new things.
Editor’s Note: To read Queer as me – Part 50: Goodbye... for now, click here. Or click here to read the previous blog post Queer as me – Part 48: Body language and social cues. For the latest LSOP blog posts and so much more, make sure to add us on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram.