Yesterday I wasn't in a very good place. I thought about deleting my post, but it was where I was at and I need to honor that. Some days will be better than others on my journey with my body, with gender dysphoria, and with trauma/trauma recovery (because although it is not the cause for my gender dysphoria, it does effect my relationship to my body, and to the world around me).
Another layer of my angst yesterday was due to my struggles with weight/eating. As I mentioned I've been eating in a "calorie deficit", and although it's the new buzz word for "healthy" calorie restriction, for those of us who have struggled with disorded eating, it becomes a good cover for further disordered eating. And I realize what I'm doing, but because I'm getting enough protein I use that as an excuse for how much of a deficit I've been in being "ok". Yesterday was hard because after returning home from the Highland Games last week I decided I needed to be a little less neurotic about tracking and restricting my calories. And I didn't go hog wild, for the most part I stayed between 1700-2000 calories, but in the space of a week I gained 5 pounds. And although my midsection is the last place for me to lose weight, it's also the first place that I gain weight.
Well, I hadn't really meant to go there, but I guess that's what needed to "come out." My intent when I hit the "new post" button was to talk about where I do have moments of gender EUphoria. So, here we go. As per my last post, gender affirming top surgery has made a huge difference in my comfort in being in my own skin. I've never been comfortable with having breasts. Going out in public with so much embarrassment/discomfort about that part of my body for the last 40 years was just torture. Every time I stepped out of the shower and was confronted by my reflection in the mirror just contracted my soul. Ugh, and the days of anguish leading up to mammograms and skin checks...I am SO grateful I don't have to go through that anymore. I've had several people comment since my top surgery about how I carry myself differently. I don't really notice it, but I am aware that I'm not carrying that embarrassment/shame/discomfort/dysphoria anymore, and maybe it weighed me down more than I realized I was letting on to.
I used to workout before the pandemic, but during that hellscape of a time I kinda shut down and just stopped working out even though I have a living room full of equipment. Then I went on Buspar when I was dealing with some heavy medical shit, and unfortunately the Buspar not only made me gain a bunch of weight, but it made me so apathetic I could barely get out of bed let alone work out...or really do anything I enjoyed. All that along with some orthopedic issues that made it difficult to workout without hurting myself, I had a really hard time getting back into a routine. When I finally started the ball rolling to have top surgery, I was infused with the motivation I needed to start working out and doing heavy lifting again. And the thing is, I realize as I'm typing, being strong has always been important to me. Even as a little kid, I took pride in being able to carry the heavy buckets of feed, the giant spool of wire, my heavy-ass saddle. The times I've felt the best in my body have been the times when I was the strongest. And along with actual physical strength, when I'm stronger I also have more muscle and so I like the look of my body shape way more.
As I approached my last surgery (scar revision for my top surgery, and torso masculinization) I felt inspired for the first time in decades to paint (more on that another day), specifically about being in this liminal space of feeling more at home/comfortable in my body since top surgery, as well as feeling stronger, but also about struggling with those parts of my body (hips/mid section) that were still very feminine. Painting has been a way of processing the continued dysphoria and dysmorphia, while honoring the positive changes both in my body, and in my sense of myself.
So, although I was feeling like crap about my body yesterday because I'd gained a few pound, I also had a really good workout and was aware that I was getting stronger. And I need to remember that I've gotten strong enough (and my back has gotten stable enough) that I was able to compete in the Highland Games last weekend for the first time in 8(?) years. And as I posted on fb last week, although it's been hard for me to see my muscle-growth progress, some the pictures my friend Mona got of me competing gave me an appreciation for the work I've done on my arms, and that makes me feel pretty damn good about my body.And I have to remember that not only do I suffer from gender dysphoria, but also body dysmorphia. The struggles with gender dysphoria are stained by the inky insidiousness of body dysmorphia and body shame caused by my mother and my sister telling me how fat I was when I was a child (when I was not in fact fat), and encouraging me to diet at the ripe old age of 8. It's easy to see my imperfections, but I need to build up the "muscles" of seeing my strengths, and the things about myself and my body I can be proud of.
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