Prologue:
Yesterday when I was asked me about the scar on my chest I got reminded of my previous life, which was a very bad one. No, the scar is not from the surgery but it is related to the gynecomastia problem. But more on that later. I want to write down my story for three reasons. First, this forum helped a lot after a long time suffering and maybe my story can help to give some people hope. Second, I want to tell my story to prevent that some guys here do not make the mistakes I made. And the last reason is rather selfish. I have nobody else to tell the story which I believe in some parts is interesting.
The beginning:
I still remember the morning when I woke up and I had puffy nipples (later it grew to tiny boobs). Back then I must have been 12 or 13. I wanted to go to my mother and ask her "What is that?". Half-way, I decided to go back to my room and not to ask her. This is where all the big problems started because I not only started to hide it from my friends but also from my family. Until today nobody at all knows that I had this problem or that I had a surgery to get rid of it. Looking back today, I would say it became an obsession to hide my stigma and if you even hide it from your parents this can turn into a huge psychological pressure. In fact, I did not know what it was and I had the feeling I was a freak. I knew fat children who had some boobs, but I was thin and this looked different, somehow more unnatural and ridiculous.
The year went by:
Over the years, I became an expert in hiding it. As a matter of fact, it turned out that the best way was to isolate myself. I do not think I was very happy at that time and I still did not know the name of my problem. The combination of puberty, gynecomastia, and the fact that I did hide from the whole world was not the best for my mental state. When I was 17, I decided to do a surgery myself to get rid of it. I sat down in the bathtub, naked, and used a carpet knife to make a cut right of my nipple. This is the scar I mentioned in the beginning. I cut deeper and deeper, until I got under the skin, I saw the glandular tissue. I started to cut it out, but I gave up, I guess I was too exhausted. I do not remember that I felt pain. I fixed the wound with some tape and luckily it healed fast and well. Until I was 20, I gave up to solve my problem. Then I decided to go to a random doctor (of course, I could not go to my family doctor) and ask for help. I told him that I have this problem recently and after examining my gynecomastia his answer was: "I do not see any problem.". From all the doctors in the world, I chose the biggest idiot.
The surgery:
One day when I was 21, I saw a documentary about bodybuilders on TV and suddenly they showed and discussed the problem of gynecomastia when they mess up with hormones. I was cheering inside! I am not a freak, I am not the only one with this problem! And I had a name for my problem: gynecomastia. It is hard to believe that I never tried to find out what it was using the Internet, but I think I gave myself up to fate that I was a freak. After I got the name of the problem, I found this forum, arranged a surgery and got the problem solved. At that time, I turned already 22, I had my own apartment and I told nobody about the surgery. Today I have still slightly puffy nipples, I guess due to the scar tissue, but this is not at all like before when I had small boobs.
Epilogue:
The surgery solved my gynecomastia problems but not immediately my mental problems. I needed some more years to recover from everything. But now, 8 years after the surgery, I am a normal happy person and I enjoy my life again, maybe even more than everyone else. I got my master degree, got a PhD degree, and found a job with a high salary in a place where it is always warm throughout the year. I have an apartment in a building with a big pool and I go swimming as often as possible, barechested!
Topic: What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. (Read 2023 times)
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