Honesty Hour: Top Surgery

I ran across a picture of a dyke who had top surgery. Just for clarification purposes, she had her breasts completely removed from her chest. What remained was a perfectly flat pectoral area, with only two crescent shaped scars shadowing the area where the breast had been. The scars were large and noticeable.

My first thoughts?

She was absolutely beautiful. More so with the bright read scars that touched from one side of her rib cage to the other side. They were a symbol of liberation. Scars you have to wear. Voluntarily or involuntarily. And she wore them so proudly.

This is where this story gets complicated.

I would wear those scars proudly, too.

Would I? Would I really? In a world with less judgment, I absolutely would. I wouldn’t think twice. My body would be different. Leaner. More muscular. No breasts. But that is in a perfect world. In this world, I am afraid. Afraid of everything it would mean to realize the way that I sometimes feel inside.

I say “sometimes,” because I have come to an amicable compromise with my body. Allow me to paint a picture. My body is exclusively feminine. Not butch. Not even andro. My style is as butch/andro as I can comfortable pull off. But I have curves. Like, enviable curves. Large, beautiful breasts and a perky rear with a relatively small waist. I would look amazing in a dress. But these are not curves I can hide, no matter how much I tried in the past.

This is the first time I am discussing this frankly and honestly. Even with myself. This was the first time I had actually seen someone post-op and I was so in love with the idea and image that it was more than just fascination. It was desire. It was jealousy.

Currently, my body and I, we get along. I stay muscular where it counts and I stay soft and curvy where I have to.

But what if?

What if I had the courage to truly turn my body into the temple that I envision? So many fears cross my mind. What if my parents truly disown me this time? They are barely coming to terms with my being a lesbian. But to be a post-op or transitioning? I don’t think they could deal with that. But the ultimate issue is, can I deal with living my life compromising with my body?

And now the crucial questions are coming back. The issues that I thought I had laid to rest are suddenly stirring in their shallow graves. What is it that I truly want? To be the best damn lesbian in the form I am given? Or to be the best damn lesbian in the form I chose?

I know I would be more comfortable with this more masculine body. But do I want it?

So many questions and no one to answer them for me.