Author Topic: Accepting parents  (Read 1119 times)

Offline Justagirl💃

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Many of us have had gynecomastia since puberty. In my case my parents knew I was intersex, but tried to just keep it quiet.

Puberty brought wide hips and breasts, my childhood at first was being raised by grandma sewing wedding dresses and catering weddings (my mother abandoned me when I was 7). I was raised very much like a tomboyish little girl with long hair.
After my cousin saw my developing chest one day she loaned me an outfit. I still remember the white blouse, pink skirt, and a bra that all fit me perfectly.

My father saw me in a skirt and 'blew a fuse'. That started a couple years of ridicule as he told me what was happening to my body was an 'embarrassment'.
Late teens I was taken to a sports doctor that found my T levels were extremely low for a 'boy' (remember I'm intersex). That started 2 years of testosterone treatments while my father signed me up for every sport available. My father taught me to hate my body. To try and hide what and who I was because it was a 'deformity'.
45 years of very unhappy boy-mode started at his direction.

I often wonder what my life would have been like had my father been more accepting? Granted the 70's were a bit different, and society had strict views on things. But things still could have been reconciled.

Did you face similar conditions? Were your parents accepting of your breasts?
How did things go for you?
When life gives you curves,
flaunt them! 💃
💋Birdie💋

Offline 42CSurprise!

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My breasts were not so pronounced that my body became the source of conversation.  My parents were oblivious to the fact I was being sexually abused by neighbors so they didn't interpret my gaining weight around age nine which made my soft chest became more evident.  They also were unaware when I began crossdressing while babysitting or when I began breaking into homes as a teen to steal lingerie.  It was only when I was fifteen years old and my mother found a pillowcase beneath my bed stuffed full of lingerie that we had "a talk."  The talk consisted of sending me to talk with the doctor who delivered me.  He was as uncomfortable about the conversation as I was.  I promised not to do it again, but alas, teenage hormones prevailed.  The next time my family needed to attend to the subject was when I was nineteen years old.  That was when a police car pulled up the front of our home and I was arrested for breaking into a home in a nearby suburb.

What was happening with my slightly feminine body was much less of concern than what was happening in my mind.  Of course, no one ever asked what stealing and wearing lingerie was all about.  They gave me a psychological test, put me on probation which consisted of meeting with a probation officer once a month for a year and nothing else.  No one in my family wanted to talk about it and they certainly didn't send me to therapy or to talk with our pastor.  Only the neighbor next door who now understood I was the one who stole lingerie from her home registered events.  Needless to say, there was no longer a relationship with that family.  My girl friend with whom I was having an active sex life never brought the subject up, despite that fact it was my inadvertently leaving her high school graduation ring at the scene of the crime that led to my arrest.  The police had visited her family to identify me.  I actually married that young woman a few years later.

I know that my journey is much different from most of the men here.  My soft chest was never so well developed that anyone noticed or commented.  But I was rather fixated on wearing lingerie, which I did intermittently over the years.  Ironically, breast development came later and suddenly, my fixation on brassieres coincided with my need to wear one... or if not exactly my need, my desire to wear one.  And what better place to explore that than with a group of men learning how to come to terms with their breasts and their more feminine psyche?  I love being with men who appreciate their breasts and who enjoy shopping for brassieres they are willing to show us. 

Your journey Birdie is also quite unique and in many ways tragic.  I hope there is greater consciousness now about the implications of these decisions regarding intersexed infants.  As you noted, they occur once in every 1500 births, which is much more than anyone would imagine.  Sadly, the world doesn't seem prepared to cope with differences, especially when they are associated with gender or sexual orientation.

Offline Justagirl💃

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42C, it seems your childhood events unfolded quite traumatic as well. 
Things might have been quite different had proper modern counseling been provided.

Many children from our generation really didn't get the support needed for us to properly bloom as individuals. 
The 'good old' "everyone had to fit specific gender outlines" applied. 
The sexual assaults just added to the confusion I'm sure if it. 

I'm so happy that you have found a happy place with yourself. 

Birdie 💞

Offline 42CSurprise!

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Thanks Birdie.  You're absolutely right.  Every child needs to feel secure in themselves and safe in the world.  That requires dedicated support and guidance from our care providers and it is needed from birth on.  The first three years are critical and I sense that neither of us got what we needed.  I reflect on that reality with an understanding I was making it up as I went along without a secure sense of who I was.  We both survived in our own ways.  They may not have been optimal but we don't get a do-over... we can only claim our aliveness in this moment.  That is where acceptance comes in of course and we're both doing that.  There is a line in the 12 Step Promises that says "we'll not regret the past nor with to shut the door on it.  We will comprehend the word serenity and will know peace."  That is what I'm doing with a little help from my friends.  

Offline taxmapper

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At around age 4-5ish, my mother took me to a local store that sold household and other things similar to Wal mart today, but was a bit like Kmart and gulf Mart. 
There we found a swim trunks that has black white and red stripes. Every time I put them on I kept looking at the crotch area and wondered why my "parts" didn't conform to the shape of the trunks. (why I had boy parts and wasn't 'smooth")

As I grew older I was fascinated with the female form and was oddly weirded out by the "penis" aspect. It didn't compute. 

When the hem line of one piece swimsuits crept upward and created the V shape of today, with the outside sitting on the hips, I kept looking at them and wondered why i didn't have hips. 

I looked to women as role models, not men. 

I kept getting Science Fiction and Fantasy books with women as the progenitor. 

For a while I stole my sister's Go-Go boots and would wear them in my bedroom.  

I was routinely insulted by my father and was told more than once I was a "panty waist". 

When Jane Fonda came out with her workout videos (Feel the burn) nonsense, I was utterly taken by the leotards. I saw the backsides of women and WANTED that! 
I wanted spandex tights to wear, and wanted to show off. 

When in the early to mid 1980's the bikini hemlines moved upward to nearly a tiny piece of cloth, the sexual attraction was obvious, but I also WANTED to have a body I could wear that on. 

There was never any "talk" but there was indications from early on that I was "different" and no one would tell me a damn thing. 

As time progressed I sequestered feeling but always bubbling up to the surface just enough to make me wonder what the hell was going on. 

I was isolated from other students and heavily bullied in school. Called a "girl" and gay, left out of activities and picked on even by the girls. 

these days I have to deal with other life issues and its painful to not know where I stand in some places but deciding to take an angroginous route with clothing. 
Even bought a new motorcycle and new jacket. 
This time a women's size 13 to allow for the boobs.   

I reached a point of not caring about what others think. 
Just live. 



Offline Justagirl💃

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Taxmapper, it's good that you have come to terms with things. It's quite strange that as we age, things seem to sort out. 

It would be nice if the preconceived gender boxes and expectations were just forgotten by society and people could just be themselves without prejudice..

Offline Johndoe1

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Mine wasn't so much accepted as blind. I was a boy so there was no way I had breasts. End of story. One day when I was around 15 at a family BBQ, a friend of my uncle said to him something not so nice about my chest that I overheard. That was the first time I felt ashamed of my chest and from then on, I kept my chest covered.
Womanhood is not defined by breasts, and breasts are not indicative of womanhood. - Melissa Fabello

Offline Gotboobs

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Your life is not yours if you care what others think.
Total freedom is reached when you stop caring what others think of you.
People judge others no matter what you do.

Offline Justagirl💃

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Mine wasn't so much accepted as blind. I was a boy so there was no way I had breasts. End of story. One day when I was around 15 at a family BBQ, a friend of my uncle said to him something not so nice about my chest that I overheard. That was the first time I felt ashamed of my chest and from then on, I kept my chest covered.
I was quite proud and excited about my breasts until about 17 when I was retrained to believe I was deformed. 
I remember looking in the mirror at my breasts buds wondering how large they would get. It was a very exciting time of my childhood. 

We are all so very different. 

Offline Parity

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"Your life is not yours if you care what others think."

That may be true however in your formative years word do matter.  Words from people you look up to that are intended to teach you about life, can and often do hurt.

Taxmapper,

What you said brought up so many things I haven't thought about since my youth.  I to liked from an early age all things nylon and lycra. I used to watch my mother get ready in front of the mirror in just her bra and wanted to be like that.
I was asked by my mother later if I was gay. I would just walk away.  No.... I would say. I just wanted softer things and really didn't understand why.  So much to say on this.  Perhaps some time.  
It's good to be reminded so I can come to terms with it for today.  I have learned a lot about myself in the last ten years.  and I'm happy.

Offline 42CSurprise!

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"Your life is not yours if you care what others think."

That may be true however in your formative years word do matter.  Words from people you look up to that are intended to teach you about life, can and often do hurt.
Well said.  In reality, most of us arrive here carrying a great deal of shame.  The site exists so plastic surgeons can offer to cut our breasts off.  We end on this side of the site really to determine whether there is another option and discover men who don't wish to remove their breasts.  Acceptance becomes the solution proposed but it has taken quite a long time before many here have been able to do so.  Now we have expanded the conversation in ways that seemed impossible when I first arrived four years ago.  Now we recommend brassieres and share photos of our breasts with and without brassieres.  None of us had an easy time with having breasts develop on our chests.  Even if we liked them the world was not prepared to join us in celebration.  But we get to talk about the estrogen highway and the role it has taken in feminizing our bodies and our minds.

I'm glad to have finally arrived at acceptance and am delighted to have met other men who feel the same way.  I don't expect friends and family will join the club and I have no need to require that of them.  I'll save the celebration for here and a few other venues where such things are discussed.

Offline WPW717

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“I would say. I just wanted softer things and really didn't understand why.  So much to say on this.“
 To this day I can say this about myself but for one small difference; I know why I like softer things… I had a stuffed dog and a blanket with a satin border. These items became a great source of comfort during times of distress as a toddler. Progressing into adolescence and adulthood the touching and feeling of soft and silky items absentmindedly brought serenity and calmness to many troubles. ( Going through some old boxes I found Mikey, the stuffed dog). It dawned on me that this history was elevated to new levels as Estrogen dominance brought a new dimension to how much more sensitive my skin had become. I find myself touching parts of exposed skin, again absentmindedly, allowing a calm and quiet to overcome my thoughts. Spouse noticed this too and admonishes me not to do it in the company others. Gotta think this is a road sign on the Estrogen highway.
I find it a bit of the acceptance of having breasts as I put on a bra, I enjoy the feel of the fabric moving over the flesh but then quickly forgetting about the gynecomastia as I ready myself for the day .
Makes me wonder how skewed to the feminine I was as a youngster as I preferred the company of adult women to all others at that time and age.
Ahh, those formative years , just beginning to understand how much importance to understanding yourself comes from examining them.
Regards, Bob

Offline blad

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My mother in particular was well aware of my breast development. In grade 8 I was taken to the children's hospital for several days of tests. My breasts were palpated and measured, which was kind of embarrassing to have that kind of attention given to my boobs. Various blood test were taken. I was also photographed in the nude from various angles for some study.

In the end very little was said to me and no one talked about it. No discussion about bras or managing my breasts. I had to figure out trying a bra on my own.

After all that you would think I could have at least had a formal introduction into trying a bra.
If the bra fits, wear it.

Offline Justagirl💃

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Back in those days it seems doctors would tell the parents that, "it will resolve on it's own."
In some cases it did, and in some cases it does not. 

Offline taxmapper

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My mother in particular was well aware of my breast development. In grade 8 I was taken to the children's hospital for several days of tests. My breasts were palpated and measured, which was kind of embarrassing to have that kind of attention given to my boobs. Various blood test were taken. I was also photographed in the nude from various angles for some study.

In the end very little was said to me and no one talked about it. No discussion about bras or managing my breasts. I had to figure out trying a bra on my own.

After all that you would think I could have at least had a formal introduction into trying a bra.
For me it was something that always remained elusive. Nothing ever said, but something known. 

The first time my breasts started to pop out was approx. 17.  Doctor later told me that I would probably develop breasts by 50. 
he was off by 1 year. 


 

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