It has been three years since I’ve been on this website, and I don’t know exactly what inspired me to write this now. Maybe because I’ve been doing a lot of introspection recently? Maybe because it’s summer and that was the worst time for me while I had Gynecomastia? Whatever the reason, thinking back on that time is uncomfortable, but I hope you gain something from this by reading it, whatever that may be. And if you don’t, at least it was therapeutic for me
Anyway, looking back on the time I had Gynecomastia, (approximately age 11-16, I’m now 19) almost seems like a fading dream. It’s not that I don’t remember things from that period, given that these were the formative years of my life and still quite recent, I remember most things from then but I’ve managed to dull or block out a lot of the painful memories.
I really don’t remember the first time I looked in the mirror and noticed the Gynecomastia/ felt the lumps. I think it as more of a gradual transition than a shock. I was (and am) skinny and athletic, and so I think you could describe mine as the “puffy nipple” style. But really puffy.
The fact that Gynecomastia affected my daily life and overall existence is weird to me now. But it really did, in a profound way. My problems weren’t that people made fun of me, but I’m sure they would if they had known about it (and the few who did find out did make fun, though not brutally). I did an awesome job of making sure no one found out, and this is I think where it really affected my life. It was in the small things. I had to make sure to wear the right shirts every day. Button down shirts were awesome. Shirts from target worked too; somehow they had a fit that hid the Gynecomastia. It meant on sleepovers changing in the bathroom instead of the room we were sleeping. Then it trickled down into bigger things. Not asking girls out because I was afraid of taking my shirt off. Never going to the pool or beach with friends. Hesitant (and didn’t end up) trying out for sports teams. Not going to summer camp. Of course I rationalized all these things to my friends and family with awesomely constructed excuses. I’m not even sure when my parents found out I had Gynecomastia.
So this existence continued till the end of tenth grade. It wasn’t all bad of course, and to anyone else it seemed I was living a pretty normal teenage/ high school life. But in one way or another, consciously or subconsciously my life nearly revolved around it. If I had to peg a number, I thought about it 30-50 times a day (in the morning I didn’t only have to worry about todays math test, but also whether my oversized nipples were too obvious in this shirt), but who the hell knows. It could have been a ton more or a ton less. The point is, it was there, and constant. Then I hit a breaking point. There was a community service/ travel program I wanted to go, and I felt I couldn’t do it with the Gynecomastia (remember I had never been to camp and on sleepovers/ short trips I was able to hide it). After maybe a month of stalking sites like gynecomastia.org, I felt I needed to do the surgery. I had read about the surgery before, but never considered it, because I assumed the puffiness would go away by 16. Talking to my parents about it was weirdly easy actually. I remember bugging out in my room while my parents were sitting in the dining room, drawing up the courage to discuss it. You’re parents are a lot more understanding than you think. They didn’t laugh or act condescending when I started randomly presenting the idea to them. I think they knew I had the Gynecomastia, but didn’t pay any attention to it or know how much it affected me. My dad isn’t the type who’s into psychology, but he was totally on board when I was mentioning the emotional effects.
Anyway, long story short, my parents agreed to pay, and I set the schedule for May so I would be healed in time for the trip. The surgery was the easiest thing ever. I listened to my i-pod the whole time, and after an hour I was transformed.
Now skip three years, out of high school and in college, and here’s where I wanna focus. The surgery changed me completely. I remember on that service trip we went to the beach, and I took off my shirt, and it was an indescribable feeling. I started dating and hooking up with girls. So yea, the surgery helped. Physically, I’m 100% percent cured. But here’s the point. It hasn’t totally gone away. My posture is still terrible. I don’t believe I’m as confident as I could be. I will never feel completely normal on the beach or at a pool and there is always some stigma in my mid associated with those places. I may not think about actively, but I feel it. Which sports do I like best? Running and biking, two sports with teams that never required me to take my shirt off. My favorite style of shirt? Long sleeve button down. My favorite season? Winter. I’m also an awesome liar now. I’ve never told anyone about the surgery, and no one knows anything besides my parents of course, not even my closest friends. I wonder if I’ll tell my wife one day. The only proof I even had Gynecomastia is two unnoticeable scars and the information packet I got before the surgery, packed away in the deepest and most cluttered part of my closet. For sentimental value, I kept a t-shirt that doesn’t fit me anymore, but because it hid the Gynecomastia well, it was the shirt I wore the most. What hurts about Gynecomastia is that it’s so private. You can’t b*tch to your friends about it. You can’t use it as a college essay as an overcoming adversity story.
Three years on, post-surgery, I’m a changed man. But in my opinion Gynecomastia has a lasting impact, especially if it happens at the onset of puberty. However, time heals, and it’s not cliché. My advice to fellow gynecomastians; get the surgery. Talk to your parents. Beg them to pay for it. If you can’t afford it, work and save. Trust me it’s worth it. It will change your life. The only other thing I can come up with is to stay positive, but we all know that’s kinda B.S… I guess just stick it out. I feel you guys, and I hope you all find happiness in the future.
Cheers!
Topic: Looking back at a terrible time (Read 2712 times)
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