Today is my top surgery – I’ve reached this moment as prepared as one can be for such a big day.
I took this photo a week ago, counting down the days…
The last two weeks have been some of the hardest days I’ve had in a long time, my anxiety of losing this surgery was unbearable. How would I go on if the surgery got canceled and I was left to live in more dysphoria?
Over the course of the two weeks I spent 90% of my time alone (something I’d experienced at the beginning of this choice) and experienced my emotions with just myself to turn to. The anxiety was relentless and leaning on phoning others to soothe me failed, and so, I was left to manage on my own.
I am thankful for the time I had: I learned how to care for myself in ways I’ve never practiced before; I learned how to have self compassion; I made it through safely. Having reached the other side of my anxiety I know I can face so much more than I ever thought I could and what a perfect time for this comes: at the beginning of the journey my medical transition.
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I’ve come to absolute certainty that top surgery is my path forward to living the last half of my life authentically. I am returning home, to the body I belong in. Gender affirming care is life saving and complicated. I’ve wondered if I am doing this in an effort to stop being erased in my trans nonbinary identity or if it is truly for me. I can say without a doubt it is both. That is a beautiful place to arrive: to bring forth the body I was always meant to live in and to have the opportunity to be seen.
I remember one fall day when I was 8 I was looking down at my flat chest. I was in my bedroom facing the window and my grandmother was on the bed, the southern light was pouring through and warming my torso as I stood there naked with no shame and admiring my favorite freckle a few inches down from my left nipple. Breaking through my childhood innocence, my grandmother pointed out how my nipples were changing. I hadn’t really noticed, but now that she mentioned it they did seem a little bumpy. “You’re getting little muffins! Your boobies are growing in!”
Those words, they sent me into a tunnel and everything went dark. I had known bodies like mine developed breasts, but I didn’t understand then how much I didn’t want that. Suddenly my body didn’t feel safe. Having my grandmother call out the change I was experiencing was the start to a life time of exposure I was not consenting to; a label I never wanted. My body was no longer mine. Right then, I lost me.
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Looking back on that moment, I know my childhood ended by oncoming puberty. I became sexualized because of my breasts at such a young age. I lost the physical connection of a parent because they became too uncomfortable with my breasts, I was sexually teased and assaulted relentlessly, and as I grew, my large breasts were a common conversation amongst my peers and friends. I learned my value as a person was tied to my breast and went into what was years of confusion around my worth being tethered this attribute of my body.
Sadly, there were years where I chased and believed in the attention I received for the size of my breasts. Looking back I had a few good years of embodiment: when I was the correct weight and gravity and pregnancy hadn’t taken hold of the shape of my breasts; those were such brief moments in my 32 years of living with this weight. After giving birth and losing an incredible amount of weight my body transformed into one I could not recon with.
I found truth in my gender 3 years ago. Coming out trans nonbinary was absolutely life saving. Looking back through my life it is shocking to realize I’ve been an Enby since I could remember. I think back to that moment in my bedroom, I loved that little body, I was genderless when thinking about who I was and my body aligned with that.
(a fresh little Enby came into the world on a November 1st some years ago – that smile…they are so happy.)
About nine months after starting my transition I got Covid and had to isolate in my apartment for 12 days. I had a lot of alone time (again) and was struggling with the forced time with myself. However, the greatest gift came in those weeks: I opened up to myself and one night in the shower I broke down with the sudden realization I needed to free my body, I needed top surgery. The way my world came flying back to me and all at once I was my 8 year old self, draped in sunlight; I was experiencing gender euphoria. I’ve no memory of feeling that in my developed body; it was incredible to feel it.
Three weeks ago I found this gorgeous Florentine Triptych I painted for my solo show back in 2024 and I cried. Drawn inside is my body as it stands this morning. In hours it will forever be changed.
What significance does the triptych hold? Well, even after a lifetime of internal conflict with my body, it still got me here. It has carried me as best it could and so many of those times it brought me deep connection. My breasts have brought me incredible pleasure as my lovers explore my body; at times my breasts helped me feel part of a community of women; they fed my baby. This was my body.
Gender affirming care comes with great relief and deep grief. This small triptych is to remember the body I’ve known for so long, a way to honor how beautiful it was, and a place I can go to say thank you.
“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”
– Howard Thurman
I can’t wait to wake up from surgery today, greet my body, see my freckle again when I look down, and begin.
🎧 Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You
A Good Cunt 
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