Coming the terms with oneself

[Justagirl💃]

The acceptance side of this website Focuses on accepting ourselves as we are.

I came to terms with myself several years ago with the help of this website.

From pseudogynecomastia, gynecomastia, to intersex, we are all built exactly the way God intended.

I was born intersex AMAB, but raised as a tomboyish little girl in my early years. Sewing, knitting,  ballet, and catering weddings were my life until 17 years of age.
My father took over my upbringing,  and two years of testosterone treatments started. I was told to "man up", and 45 years of boy-mode ensued. 
Baggy dark colours,  bib overalls,  and layers hid my protruding breasts.
Several years ago neck and back pain brought me into using support (under the direction of my GP) and logging into this site (under the direction of my social worker. )

This site helped me find myself again. I'm still the tomboyish little girl grandma was raising inside. I came out as myself again. Best I could residing in Texas.

What is your story?

[42CSurprise!]

I'm reading a wonderful book by a woman who is a Zen Buddhist priest with the title Paradise in Plain Sight - Lessons from a Zen Garden.  I'm actually reading it for the third time.  Last evening I read a section near the end that speaks to the process you describe Birdie.  I'll quote a bit of it...

...It seems I've lived as though there were two of me.  Right where I stand is me as I am.  Opposite me is another me, one I've never met.  She is quite wonderful, charming and accomplished.  She sits longer, for instance, every day, and eats much less.  She says and does nothing she regrets.  She went to the exercise class I skipped; she didn't even glance at the dessert menu.  She has all the potential I have misspent: youth for instance, time, patience, and kindness. All the while that we have traveled side by side, she has taken a different road, one I've never seen.  I am taunted by her perfection...I always imagined this other me to be happier than the real me, which made me feel lacking and sad.  I wonder: Do we grieve most for what we've lost or for what we never had.

Letting go of her, I've found I've lost nothing.  The entire world was all mine to begin with.  She was just hitching a ride.  I can't believe I put with her nonsense for so long.

Accepting ourselves invariably requires releasing all the judgments we've had about who we are and how we've lived our lives.  The reality is we each have done exactly what we needed to do in every moment... though we've more often than not been driven to satisfy other's expectations of who we should be and how we should act.  That we haven't fit the model of what a man "should be" has left us with confusion and often shame.  I've always interpreted my affection for brassieres to be a mark of my deviance and believed with enough understanding and effort I could get over these feelings. As I'm discovering, what I'm doing with brassieres and the very real breasts that have been developing on my chest is not a problem to solve.  No, I don't need to become the post boy for men wearing brassieres and I don't have to wear one all the time.  I'm not going to transition and have no interest to present to the world a feminine persona.  This isn't about need or comfort for me... it is about my affection for breasts and brassieres could perhaps best be called a fetish.  Yes, I have breasts so I don't need to rely on breast forms to enjoy a well fitting brassiere.  We each are doing this in our own way.  One size does not fit all.

[taxmapper]

I'm reading a wonderful book by a woman who is a Zen Buddhist priest with the title Paradise in Plain Sight - Lessons from a Zen Garden.  I'm actually reading it for the third time.  Last evening I read a section near the end that speaks to the process you describe Birdie.  I'll quote a bit of it...

...It seems I've lived as though there were two of me.  Right where I stand is me as I am.  Opposite me is another me, one I've never met.  She is quite wonderful, charming and accomplished.  She sits longer, for instance, every day, and eats much less.  She says and does nothing she regrets.  She went to the exercise class I skipped; she didn't even glance at the dessert menu.  She has all the potential I have misspent: youth for instance, time, patience, and kindness. All the while that we have traveled side by side, she has taken a different road, one I've never seen.  I am taunted by her perfection...I always imagined this other me to be happier than the real me, which made me feel lacking and sad.  I wonder: Do we grieve most for what we've lost or for what we never had.

Letting go of her, I've found I've lost nothing.  The entire world was all mine to begin with.  She was just hitching a ride.  I can't believe I put with her nonsense for so long.

Accepting ourselves invariably requires releasing all the judgments we've had about who we are and how we've lived our lives.  The reality is we each have done exactly what we needed to do in every moment... though we've more often than not been driven to satisfy other's expectations of who we should be and how we should act.  That we haven't fit the model of what a man "should be" has left us with confusion and often shame.  I've always interpreted my affection for brassieres to be a mark of my deviance and believed with enough understanding and effort I could get over these feelings. As I'm discovering, what I'm doing with brassieres and the very real breasts that have been developing on my breasts is not a problem to solve.  No, I don't need to become the post boy for men wearing brassieres and I don't have to wear one all the time.  I'm not going to transition and have no interest to present to the world a feminine persona.  This isn't about need or comfort for me... it is about my could perhaps best be called a fetish.  Yes, I have breasts so I don't need to rely on breast forms to enjoy a well fitting brassiere.  We each are doing this in our own way.  One size does not fit all.

Being someone who typically aligns more to the right, I remember the Dittohead days where any talk of the gay, trans, alternat, whatever aspect was off limits and one who showed any inkling in any of this was dismissed. 

Then the hermaphrodite/ intersexed thing started to come out and folks largely dismissed it. Until they couldn't.

That doesnt happen in humans... 


Well yes it does.   


Then when my breasts started to grow, and I discovered that there was a whole lot more girl in me than I thought, those walls came tumbling down.   
I am way more pragmatic, meaning I look at people as people. The rest is window dressing.  

The classification days are gone, and ironically, is resurrected by both sides in the US.  But that's life now. 

[Justagirl💃]

Then the hermaphrodite/ intersexed thing started to come out and folks largely dismissed it. Until they couldn't.

That doesnt happen in humans...


Well yes it does. 

You would be surprised on how curious the CNAs are about my condition.  

Mostly asked, "what's it like?"

Hell during the school years as kids are mean. Anyone that has had breasts since puberty understands that as well. Add trying to hide your privates in the shower room as well. 

They said I was in the wrong shower room. They were right!

[taxmapper]

Then the hermaphrodite/ intersexed thing started to come out and folks largely dismissed it. Until they couldn't.

That doesnt happen in humans...


Well yes it does.

You would be surprised on how curious the CNAs are about my condition. 

Mostly asked, "what's it like?"

Hell during the school years as kids are mean. Anyone that has had breasts since puberty understands that as well. Add trying to hide your privates in the shower room as well.

They said I was in the wrong shower room. They were right!

If the hardware is there, so too is the software.  Well for those with, it s perfectly normal.  Those without.. not so much. 

[gyneco_jason]

Then the hermaphrodite/ intersexed thing started to come out and folks largely dismissed it. Until they couldn't.

That doesnt happen in humans...


Well yes it does.

You would be surprised on how curious the CNAs are about my condition. 

Mostly asked, "what's it like?"

Hell during the school years as kids are mean. Anyone that has had breasts since puberty understands that as well. Add trying to hide your privates in the shower room as well.

They said I was in the wrong shower room. They were right!

That was certainly the case for me. I was active and physically fit, but I developed big boobs anyway. At the time, Baywatch and Pamela Anderson were huge, so my classmates teased me by calling me "Pam" or "Pamela." Not a fun time.

[gyneco_jason]

Same. I run 3-5 miles a day and workout 4-5 days a week and have for years. I’m far from Venice beach machismo but I’ve always taken care of my body and my body still decided to grow boobs. I’ve been lucky enough to not be a D cup and am able to still mask them with a comfortable bra. But it’s getting tough to understand why they keep filling out.
Lucky to at least be in an era where people have understanding of body’s being different and seeing things as is what it is rather than whispers and dismissals.
Can’t imagine coming to age and dealing with this especially in times when intersex and other things were so dismissed.

It's frustrating, right? Part of my problem is too much weightlifting when I was younger, which gave me big chest muscles. But then any ounce of fat on my body seems to go directly to my chest, so I have a fit physique with just an unusually huge chest that needs support whether I like it or not.

[gyneco_jason]

Same here. Mine has gotten considerably worse over the past year. I used to be wary of bras showing through my clothing but at this point the alternative is worse. So I just try to find the most subtle fit I can.

[gotgyne]

My father always wanted a virile son. But I obviously didn't meet his expectations. He never let me feel it, but I'm sure this was the case.