A Certain Kind of Beautiful

I saved every penny I made working on the road with Margaret between fall 07 and spring 08 and scheduled my chest surgery appointment with Dr. Brownstein for March 6th. Strange and unplanned, it was the same date I had changed my name years earlier. I can’t explain the feeling putting that date on my calendar. There were times when I felt so hopeless – I thought it would never happen. I’ve wanted a flat chest ever since I was a little boi and when the time came, I could hardly believe I was finally getting a cashiers check out of my account and mailing it to the Doctor’s office to make my dream come true.

My surgery went extremely well. I would recommend my surgeon to any guy who is thinking of having the same procedure. It’s been 7 weeks and I’m healing incredibly well. Everytime I pass anything with a reflective surface I have to stop, double-take and admire my flat chest. It’s what I always imagined, actually it’s better, because it’s real. It’s hard not to touch it all the time too. I can’t imagine what it looks like to others with me just rubbing my hands flat up and down over my chest. I know it’s not a sexual thing in any way but others don’t know that. I have noticed that the sensitivity where my nipples used to be is now over near my armpits. So umm, yeah, that’s a little weird, to have nipple sensation in my armpits. It’s a good thing I’m not into nipple play, because if I was I would be directing people to my armpits, saying ‘yeah, get it.. a little more over that way.. yeah, get it.’

Anyhow, there are many ways this whole thing has immediately impacted my life. First, I can’t get away with going into the ladies room anymore. Which is sad to me in some ways. I prefer the ladies room, I feel safer and more aligned with female-bodied people in there than biological men in the other stanky room. I’d rather face possible verbal hazing in the ladies room than risk possible physical harm in the men’s room if I were ‘found out’. There’s just not enough time in an exchange with women in the ladies room to explain my situation and try to make them feel more at ease about me. Not that I’m that powerful..

One of the things I realized about myself since my surgery, that is not so visible from the outside, is how I feel. Over the years, people have said nice things to me on occasion, complimenting me in some fashion about how I appear. Maybe even saying that I was goodlooking to them. I’ve always appreciated people extending their sweet thoughts to me but for some reason I’ve never really felt like those nice things ever really washed over me or sunk in. I know everyone needs a little stroking from time to time, but I’ve always preferred people tell me I was a good human or that I had good energy instead of commenting on my exterior. The kind words of others were always just that, kind words.

Now, for the first time, since I was a little boi, before I developed my (previous) chest, I feel, without the validation of others, a certain kind of beautiful. I feel hot in a way that I’ve never felt before because ofmy rocking flat chest. Maybe if I were into Butches and Tranny Bois, MAYBE I’d fuck me. I’m an ass.. Alas, I look in the mirror and see on the outside what I have seen in my head for-fucking-ever! What’s in my head and what’s on the outside finally are in sync, and almost two months later, I still can’t believe it. I feel like a certain kind of beautiful.


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