I hate my body. As a child, I was fine with it. Aside from between my legs, I was indistinguishable from my brother. I was purely androgynous, like most children. Those are the days I miss. Before hormones woke up and changed me into something foreign. Then I began to hate my body, to the point that even my wonderfully oblivious, negligent mother noticed.
Now. Don't get me wrong. I'm not interested in looking like a child. I want to still have that androgyny, though.
I bleed, once a month. It's terrifying. When it hits, no matter how prepared I am, it is like being socked in the gut, over and over--whether there is physical pain or not. It's a betrayal. Something I can't escape. I have nightmares. I become depressed--not from hormones, I'm quite sure, but from the betrayal. My body does as it likes and it forgot to ask me. That bleeding lasts for 7 days and it disgusts me. Last month, I was within seconds of simply taking every pill in the house--painkiller, vitamin, anything.
My breasts, fortunately only a largish A, are a constant source of both amusement and pain. They're amusing to play with now and then. They jiggle. They bounce. They can be poked and prodded. They look different when I stand up and when I lie down. That said, I wish they'd go the ->-bleeped-<- away. They decrease my range of movement, get banged off of stuff and have no function, past or future. I prefer them to be bound down and put away so that I don't have to think about them or look at them or anything else. I want them gone.
I've seen transsexuals say that the hormone dominant in their birth sex is like a poison to them.
In my case, both sets of hormones are a poison and they destroyed my body.
PS. I chose extreme. I'm considering top surgery to get rid of my tits and definitely want a hysterectomy.
