Breasts and Penises

To a medical student they are just another piece of anatomy. To a cisgender person, they are just another signpost of gender and sex. To anyone who is transgender, they are the cause of extreme anguish and pain or the Holy Grail of a life-long dream. I am transgender and right now I have both. I am a transgender tweener, sitting between two binary sign posts, waiting for the courage and the commitment to cross into the irreversible, my true gender wired before I was born. I was born with a penis in the 1950s, the product of militantly binary society. For the next sixties years my penis, testosterone and deep male socialization dictated my gender…until my gender executed a Shawshank Redemption-like escape. Like the movie I have had to dig through a 25-foot-deep cement wall of denial, crawl through a mile of deep emotional sewerage to finally emerge in a raging river filled with conflict, fear and confusion but with a new determination to finally be me. I have been on female hormones for over 18 months. My chest, according to the Victoria Secrets on-line bra calculator, is 40D. In disbelief I confirmed it on other sites. The funny thing is, no one has noticed. To the world I am still a gray-haired, 64-year-old white guy. No one ogles my breast. No one ever looks down. No one even cares. I go into a men’s room and I still get to pee standing up. My penis is my right to entry. It’s a non-event. It has been a strange journey to get here. I have the breast I have always wanted and a penis I can’t wait to get rid of. I am like the many trans people who have to tuck or bind something. I know my status in the gender waiting room is temporary. I am transitioning so I will need to jump on the train I have been fearfully trying to stop. It seems to be unstoppable. In that station I will pass transmen taking the opposite train, each of us jealous that the other has what they so desperately want. Mother Nature has a fabulous sense of humor. Too bad we all couldn’t meet at a swap meet. So, for a while my male privilege will protect me from catcalls and unwanted advances and maybe my advanced age will protect me when I finally present as a woman. Regardless, once I am off the train, I will willingly surrender my penis and my male privilege card for a new membership in a club that I have waited a lifetime to join.
E. Holiday
Please also read:






