After my shower yesterday, I wiped the fog off the mirror and had the courage to look at myself. In the past even looking at myself has set off waves of worsening gender dysphoria which I will explain later.
|Pre Covid Summer Picture|
As always, my mass of hair was it's ultra wavy, curly post washed self. No surprise, I have never had a problem looking at my hair. Along the way too, I glanced at my face. I saw a curiously androgynous face staring back at me. No real surprise there either. I have decided it is mine for better or for worse to live with for the remainder of my life.
For the first time yesterday, I was brave enough to look down from my face to my breasts. Since my maternal grandmother passed away from breast cancer years ago, I am considered to be at risk for the disease and have been told to self examine for any strange soreness or lumps. Which I have done.
As I had the courage to do a chest scan of my own, it occurred to me how rare it has been for me to do one. In the past, the process has caused my gender dysphoria to flare up when I focused on a relatively small set of breasts overcome by a large set of shoulders. Finally yesterday, my slightly expansive breasts were able to hold their own with my undeveloped old male shoulders and torso. I even discovered one of my breasts was larger than the other which is common in many cis women.
To make a long story short, my recent discovery process has led me to look ahead even more to when the weather warms up (and stays) and I can wear my summer fashions.