When I'm home with my best friends, or most of my family. They're getting better about pronouns so it's like they're saying, indirectly, "Those big things on your chest don't matter anymore, I see through them" and that means a hell of a lot.
Kind of odd, but I don't feel dysphoric at ALL during sex, at least with Ben. I'm just too happy to be with him to even be thinking, and he's so good about not touching my chest or anything, it's nice. It's really effing nice.
I've had days like Alex and jmax's, but it's totally sporadic. I've gotten to the point now where most of the time, I can look in the mirror and not want to break it anymore. I stopped seeing myself as anything but a guy a while ago, and it's helped so damn much. The times that are the absolute worst, for me, are trying to get ready to go out somewhere, even if it's just the grocery store. I watch Ben run into his closet and run back out dressed, comfortable as hell, and then it takes me 20 minutes to get into two binders and layer up, just to throw a hoodie over it. That's when it's the absolute worst.