My Breasts and the World Around Them

"If you're not getting reconstruction, then you don't need a plastic surgeon," my surgeon said.

"Alright, but let me be clear," I said*, "deciding to 'stay flat' does not mean I don't care what my chest looks like. And if a plastic surgeon has something to offer in this regard, I would like to have them involved."

Ultimately, it doesn't seem like I'll need one. But I wanted to make sure my surgeon understood that by not wanting implants or reconstruction, I wasn't "giving up" on myself. I was giving up on the patriarchy. I loathe to think I'd deal with the pain of "expanders," and surgery to implant some saline filled sacks into my chest so I could look a certain way - for whom exactly?

If it were for me, if it were my "confidence," why would I need tits like that to feel good about myself?

I admit that my reaction to these ideas of reconstruction is such a visceral repulsion, that I feel compelled to examine my response.

I spent over 30 years of my life trying to meet other people's standards of success and beauty. I have a lot of anger around that lost time. I have a lot of hate towards the world that tried to bury everything about me that was perfect and precious, in the name of what they decided was so. Society, media, relatives. The shits they gave about me were completely self serving: Consumerism, appearances, having a scapegoat.

Society, media, relatives. I was able to serve them all well because I was pretty enough, compliant enough. I did my part in service of all those things, and the pain of it all was easy to ignore because I was just so good at it. The smallest steps in other directions were met with consequences that told me clearly to go back where I belong, and I regret that I was never strong enough to move forward anyway. I regret it with every part of me.

The idea of implants or reconstruction represents, for me, doubling down on a commitment to the lies of those things. And I have some fear, that if I do not comply, I'll be left to die, as useless to the powers I've served for so long.

Four years ago marked the beginning of the end of this time in my life, when I came out to myself about my sexuality, and as my last vestige of "normal" melted away, I realized that I can never win that game I was playing. I quit. And all this time, I've tried to learn about the person I am, if only I can peel away over 30 years of compulsive conformity, loneliness, and fear.

To build breasts onto my body for the sole purpose of appearances are based on values that are the antithesis to mine. I can say that now. Thank God I can say that now.

*I do actually talk to doctors that way. I recommend it.