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Just when I thought it was only cis girls that worried about their body image and that I was immune from all of that, I found myself saying ‘does this shirt make me look flat?’ thinking about it, my breast tissue does not seem to make me feel like any less of a man. It does have that effect on everyone else though, as once I am no longer in my pyjamas and entered the outside world the questioning begins; the drift of eyes over the line of my body and ears straining to catch higher or deeper tones in my voice.

It is very hard to explain, but imagine if you will every single breath reminding you of what you should or shouldn’t be, and then your mind not registering it. Think about that constant reminder, the way that your clothes and you brush against yourself when you move. The fact that when you look in the mirror you cannot see yourself at all: not just little things that you like or don’t like, but you can’t see yourself. It looks like someone else is looking back at you, something else entirely. it doesn’t make sense at all, and then you hear someone in the street saying that they couldn’t tell if ‘it’ was a boy or a girl, when in fact they meant you, you want to turn round and tell them what you are, but you just don’t know what you are yourself.

You really do feel like an ‘it’, and its days like that when I truly do question whether I’m human or not. I don’t think I’m a person like everyone else, and I feel physically sick, just like when I’m standing on top of a really tall building. Being scared of your gender is a woozy and threatening feeling; it’s just like being scared of heights. But on a rare day, and thankfully, I mean a very rare day, this is exactly what I feel like, and the more masculine I become the more I’m so scared of this happening more often, or more terrifyingly, for this feeling to never go away.

For the most part though, I love the freedom of gender expression that my body gives me, and I actually like a lot of things about my body, it’s just other people that tend not to appreciate it quiet so much. Passing at first used to mean everything to me, but now that I have learned to deal with my dysphoria and come to terms with my sexuality and gender I know what I am in my heart. At the end of the day, even when passing, people will try to claim a view on those things. I cannot stop this bigotry or the opinions of others on my personal life. I can, however, feel comfortable leaving my house as a man in my head without the need of binding. I see that as a most marvelous breakthrough, even if at first it seemed like a horrific compromise when dealing with society.