From a very young age, I knew I was gay. To be exact, I am a nonbinary pansexual, which means I don’t identify as a boy or a girl, and I am attracted to everyone. As a kid who grew up in a very heteronormative household, I never thought about anything outside of that. Looking into my future, I saw myself wearing a white dress, walking down an aisle where I would find myself in a situation where I would have to kiss a man. Although, little me wasn’t thinking about who they wanted to kiss; all I knew was that I didn’t want anything to do with wearing a dress.
I remember at the ripe age of ten, I began to avoid mirrors at all costs. I could no longer go in the pool with just a pair of swim trunks and a flat chest. I started to develop a body that was beautiful but wrong. I was becoming a “woman.” I hated the idea of being stuck in a body that couldn’t be changed. I would always tell myself, “There’s nothing you can do, you are a girl. Nothing can change that.” I didn’t know there was a way out. I felt trapped. Sooner or later, ace bandages and hoodies would become my best friend. I developed a beautiful body that I couldn’t stand to look at. The older I got, the more difficult it became to hide the fact that I was born a female.
The hardest part about top surgery isn’t the actual surgery, it’s the process of having to wait for it for years. I have wanted a flat chest for about four or five years now, ever since I started developing my chest. I did everything in my power to compress my chest and make myself appear flat, but no matter what I did, it never fully worked.
One of the biggest challenges I have had to face in the past 4 years is trying not to injure myself while also compressing my chest. This is something that many people don’t understand about trans masculine people. I have used binders, ace bandages, etc, and although they have somewhat worked in the past, they have left permanent damage on my health.
The consequences of these actions are more severe than most might imagine. For example, binding has left me with back issues, fabric burn, and issues breathing correctly due to the pressure on my rib cage. Even though I know I understand the risk of binding, I disregard it because I’d rather be in pain and have a flat chest, than uncomfortable in my own skin.
I am now 15 years old, which means I will be able to get this gender affirming surgery in about 7 months when I turn 16. Now that the date of my surgery seems so close, it’s difficult to say whether I am happy or not. Looking at the obstacles I have overcome to get where I am today, I am so incredibly proud of myself and I am genuinely excited about finally being able to wear a t-shirt in public.
Although, being happy doesn’t take away from the fact that this is a lot of change and it is terrifying. I’ve never done well with change, and getting a permanent surgery even if it is something I’ve wanted and needed for years, it is incredibly nerve wracking. I have come so far with how I present myself, and learning more about how I want to change my appearance permanently that I can finally feel comfortable with who I am.
3 responses to “Becoming comfortable in my own skin”
As a female who was and is a total tomboy. I was basically a little boy when I was a little girl. I did everything the boys did. Even play baseball in the streets during the summer with all the other boys, with my shirt off. Yes there came a day my mom said I could not do that any more. I started to grow the little prepubescent buds. It was okay that I still participate in all things I liked but I needed a shirt. There was no social media, there was no LGBTQ education. I was what they called a tomboy. And it was okay. Nobody in society said it was different or wrong. She is just a tomboy. Puberty has a way of working out a lot of things. The further into puberty I began to change. I still liked doing all the things boys did but I also found myself developing crushes on some of those boys. As I look back now the boys I did crush on and later marry, were only the tuffiest of boys. The most masculine ones. They had to be way more masculine than me. Later during hormone testing I discovered my testosterone was higher than what is normal for a female. Ahh that explained a lot. It breaks my heart for kids today. They are not just growing up without intervention and interference. To be who they really are. Now we will look at these young people today and will never know if it was intervention and interference that got into the way of their normal development. Yes I didn’t want to grow breasts, I didn’t want to wear a shirt, I don’t want to ever wear a dress. Here I am. Married mother of 4. I know how to use a chain saw and can pick up a heavy ice chest. I don’t often need the help of a man to do a lot of things. My voice is deep. I am strong. I am still that tomboy. But I am a woman. A proud strong woman who is married to a very strong man. When I was young my parents and society let me be just me. No other labels other than tomboy. It was totally okay to be a tomboy. Heck I was even more gutsy and daring than my brother. Just because we are this way doesn’t mean we were born in the wrong body. I believe some females were made to be this strong. This courageous. It’s okay. Embrace our tomboy ways. Many of us are leaders. We are strong woman. Just as there are some men who are more masculine than other men. I have to ponder if this is some sick way of taking those strong women and some how convincing them to be men but they will inevitably be the weaker of the men. Tomboy proud. I believe all this interference and intervention is wrong. The kids should not be exposed to all this confusion making crude. Back on my day we didn’t have all this social media and what I believe is propaganda targeting kids. Pushing kids to evaluate who they are before they have a chance to become who they are. Without interference I became who I am. Ironic at a time we are having more women in power positions. More women leadership. Our “tomboys” are being propaganda targeted. Just the same we see males entering female sports and knocking those strong females off their pedestals. I say, leave the kids alone. Get all this lgbtq and propaganda away from the kids and let the. Grow up without that outside influence on their lives. This young lady in this article without the outside influence would have questioned less and just continued to grow and deal with life and body changes. This is me without any labels. Who am I, what am I? Time has a way of working things out and the picture becomes clearer. All in its own.
If adults, school counselors and therapists tell a child that hating one’s body via symptoms of dysmorphia is OK and that it is one’s body that must undergo brutal and irreversible alterations, then they are dead wrong and represent a dramatic change in direction from traditional treatment of one’s mind and paradigm.
What are these adults doing to kids? Guide them, don’t butcher them.
What is next, forcefeeding the obese, rectal funnels for alcoholics, guns for the suicidal?
Kids, this world is having a collective brain fart and you are unfortunately on the receiving end. Hold your breath and run forward. You will make it through these times.
As my mother used to say, “Smooth seas don’t make for a skillful sailor,” and, “This, too, shall pass.”
I feel compassion for Kai Mekari but I do not understand the internal logic of: a. Child’s self-perception does not match physical reality, therefore, b. Administer pharmacological and social interventions in an attempt to change reality.