About my chest

I think it’s accurate to say at this point that I am generally uncomfortable with having visibly noticeable breast-shapes under my clothes when I am out and about. Sometimes I just suck it up, but most of the time I either just wear slightly baggier clothes than I am otherwise wont to (I am fortunate enough to have a small enough chest for this to be an effective strategy), or I bind if I want to wear clothes that don’t themselves obscure my chest.

A lot of people really hate binders, but I super don’t. My one just kind of feels like an all-day hug, or something, though I suspect that, again, my level of comfort while binding is very much related to the smallish-ness of my breasts in the first place.

Here’s the thing, though: my desire to bind/obscure my cheat in public isn’t actually related to me disliking or generally having any kind of dysphoria around my body. When it’s just me, or just me and people I love and trust, it’s not all that important. The reason I don’t want the natural shape of my chest to be available for public consumption is based not on the chest itself, but on the ways in which I know other people perceive, and ultimately respond to, that shape. It impacts my everyday interactions, (or at least it feels to me like it does, although it is not at all clear to me that the actual change in my body shape is even significant enough for most people to notice) in ways that I can’t actually articulate, since a lot of the time I bind but wear feminine enough clothes that I am still generally perceived as a woman, albeit one with a flat chest. I dunno, maybe that’s enough to actually impact the way people see and engage with me.

Anyway, I have been idly speculating about whether I might ever want chest surgery. And I honestly can’t say either way. As it stands, it’s certainly not a thing that I am enthusiastic about. It would make choosing clothes in the morning way easier – I wouldn’t have to determine what subset of clothes I could choose from based on whether I had a clean binder available or not. But other than that, I’m not sure it would be a great advantage to me?

I mean, there are times when I would prefer to have my chest be flat even unclothed, in ways and for reason that I haven’t really figured out. But there are also times when I just kinda idly cup or jiggle or generally enjoy what I’ve got. So, it’s hard. I can’t have both, so probably I will always tend to err on the side of avoiding all of the administrative and medical hassle and red tape (and GID diagnosis, and …) that would be involved in getting surgery.

Basically, I don’t feel at all confident in saying it is never a thing I will want that badly, but it’s definitely not where I’m at just now. It’s a complicated thing to navigate, though, even now.

2 comments

  1. “The reason I don’t want the natural shape of my chest to be available for public consumption is based not on the chest itself, but on the ways in which I know other people perceive, and ultimately respond to, that shape.”

    I think you articulated my feelings about my chest. I had top surgery two weeks ago for various reasons. I never had a ton of body dysphoria, though a fair amount of discomfort: I had very large breasts (34 H/HH depending on the brand of bra), and they gave me a lot of back problems. I didn’t like the way they looked in general, but I wasn’t like, “OH MY GOD GET THEM OFF ME RIGHT NOW” until summer came around and binding became a kind of slow suffocation. Even then, it was more about bodily discomfort than about crippling dysphoria.

    What I hated was, as you said, how people responded to me based on my breasts. I didn’t have a choice in my gender presentation, because there was no way to hide my breasts no matter what. I would feel more comfortable now wearing a dress than I did before surgery, because I can CHOOSE to present as feminine/female rather than being immediately perceived that way based solely on the shape of my body. Ultimately, I chose to have surgery in order to give myself that choice.

    One thing I will say, if you choose to have surgery, if you can find a surgeon who does informed consent, like mine, a lot of the red tape goes away, including a GID diagnosis. The only letter my surgeon requested was one from my psychiatrist, solely because I have a mood disorder and surgery/anesthesia can mess with my meds and my mood. He wanted to know that the psychiatrist was aware of what I was doing in order to provide follow-up care. I was okay with that.

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