Breasts and New Bras pt 2

K so quick history: my breasts have grown QUITE A BIT since I started taking progesterone in October, and they’ve grown even more since I started consistently taking it as a suppository in December. None of my old bras fit anymore, which made my breasts constantly sore (ball-havers, imagine squeezing your balls into too-tighty-whiteys for months, like, 2-4 sizes too small), so I threw down on some new bras, from Torrid. I was wearing exclusively Maidenform 38B bras for the last three years, except for random sports bras I found at Ross or on sale at Target.

These Torrid bras are the comfiest things I’ve ever wrapped around my girls.

I’m definitely a 42 band size. Everything I ordered was a 42. I measured myself before I ordered and I was closer to 42 than 41 but still in between, so I gambled a little and got lucky. 42 feels right. Snug but not tight. In place but not pinching. I ordered mostly D cups with a few Cs and Bs thrown in there in case I had measured wrong.

Turns out I measured wrong. I followed a few guides, measured around the fullest part of the bust, still got the wrong cup size. Guess my boobs are just reaching for the stars.

After an afternoon of trying on seven bras, I’m returning five. I’m keeping the 42Bs, one demi, one sports, and returning all the rest. Just too much room in the cups in those.

Once things get returned and I get reimbursed, I’m def ordering more. Like, this is a memory foam demi, but I want to try some more basic T-shirt bras in more common colors (this one is a lush dark purple, sale ftw) and styles (give me some lace I want to feel sexy sometimes) (also is probs a good idea to have more than one sports bra, espesh if I’m planning to starts sportsing more). I’ll have more money when my freelancing gig pays up in a few weeks, but can’t order anything now, so I have time to strategize.

Good news: This 42B demi is just THE comfiest thing. There is really no feeling like…tfw metal wires aren’t digging into the sides of your breasts. The underwire (cozily cushioned) points up into my armpit rather than to my shoulders, so I’m convinced 42 is the band I need. Victory!

SMALL DILEMMA THO: There’s still a little room in the cups. Like, when I sit down and lean back, the upper lip (?) of the cup rises off my breast maybe a centimeter, more on the right breast. Again, super comfy, but that’s the roomiest I’ve ever worn a comfy bra.

Fellow boob-havers, does this mean the bra is too big? Should I maybe order a few more bras down a band size and up a cup size to see if they’re too snug before deciding i am def a 42B at the moment? Like, 40Cs and 40Bs? I’d look for 40As but I don’t have the money for custom bras rn.

Also, my girls are still growing, so I don’t want to invest too much in bras–I need just enough underwear to be functional until my girls are finished coming into their own–so maybe I should just stick with 42Bs for a minute and wait to grow into em more?

Anyways, if y’all were in my situation (female puberty), what would you consider? Thanks for any tips!

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Dysphoria

From Queer Voices. http://queer-voices.com/2015/10/dysphoria-bodily-mentally-socially/

The article categorizes three forms of gender dysphoria: Social, Mental, and Physical. Before hormones, I would get a lot of Physical dysphoria. Treating that is the reason I take hormones, which help immensely but not completely. Mental dysphoria I used to deal with more pre-transition as well, but it’s easier now that forces beyond myself (friends and sometimes family) are helping validate my gender (and that my physical form and my inner narratives are now more validating of it too).

Social dysphoria I still get all the time. I don’t pass as female as often as I pass as male, so people misgender me lots still, which causes its own sort of pain beyond social awkwardness.

I was in a bowling alley a few weeks ago watching two high-school-age women in the seats across from my team. They were being…I think the appropriate phrase is “TOTES ADORBS.” Sitting in each other’s laps. Hugging. Giggling and fawning at cute things on their phones. It was a display of proto-femininity I found difficult to ignore, partly because I have always wanted to express my femininity so easily in public, partly because I was envious of the acceptance and invisibility they received from their friends and passersby while behaving like…like themselves. Partly because I envied it so much it hurt to watch.

Watching the girls ended up killing the evening for me. My mood plummeted, I noticed I was tearing up when I gutterballed, I withdrew from conversation with the friends I was bowling with, and I started to despair, to feel lethargic, to want skip my turns or leave the alley completely.

But I didn’t say anything, because my friends were enjoying themselves, catching lucky strikes and telling Star Trek jokes. Later on, David spoke in the car: “That was fun.” Ben said, “AGREED,” doing his best Picard. I was sitting in the front passenger seat, nexus of car conversation, so I had to respond. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful, or like I was sad because my scores were bad, or like I didn’t enjoy socializing (though that’s becoming increasingly true) since we hadn’t gone out much in the past few weeks. So I said yeah, it was fun, which was a lie, and therefore disrespectful of my friends.

Had I said it wasn’t, would that have seemed disrespectful too? I didn’t want to talk about why. I had told Ben earlier about my mood and the women. He said he could understand why social situations were hard for me. As much as I appreciated his words, I knew he couldn’t mean them fully.

Does the Buddha say Desire is the source of all suffering? Am I wrong to desire the type of easy outward public femininity the high schoolers were displaying? Am I a coward for avoiding the scorn such a display would invite? Whose lap would I sit in? Who would I take to http://www.cuteoverload.com to gush over images of baby polar bears and hedgehogs and hedgehogs again? To be honest, so much of these feels feel so instinctual it feels wrong to resist or interrogate or question them. How can one not desire what one is drawn to?

I bring this up to illustrate social dysphoria. Something as simple as encountering femininity in the world can trigger it.

I suppose I am lucky that I do have respite from the dysphorias. Hormones mitigate the physical dysphoria to the point of restoring function to my life. When I say “my life,” I mean the whole thing. Being alone is the easiest way I’ve encountered for mitigating the social dysphoria–the job I just received lets me work from home, and I love that. The mental dysphoria, feeling “trapped by gender confines,” interplays with all the others, but I don’t have to go through the crippling self-doubt that kept me from transitioning until two years ago anymore, at least.

Anyway, there is that. Thanks for reading.