binding, bathrooms, and a piss n packer

Well lets just jump right in shall we?


I’ve had an extremely hard time with life as of late. I’ve been struggling to keep my head above water it seems, I finally reached out and started going to therapy. Its been a tremendous help with many many aspects of my life in just a very short time. I’m always very shocked at how much talking about shit makes it feel better. Well, how constructively talking about shit makes it better. The thing that’s been on my mind a lot lately is the bathroom and my comfort level in them.

A little over a year and a half ago I order my first binder with the hopes that I would be able to hide these giant fat flashing neon lights that protrude from my chest. When my binders arrived I remember putting them on and feeling so let down. My boobs were still there, only slightly smaller. I didn’t put much thought into this and instead of returning the binders, trying different sizes I thought, ehh At least I can fit into some shirts I couldn’t fit into before. Up until the past few months I’ve been very comfortable with my boobs. Many times I’ve been happy to have such a large chest, they were particularly helpful when entering the bathroom. I would puff up my chest and try to walk in bathrooms BOOBS OUT AND ABOUT as to avoid any uncomfortable misjudgments of a man being in the bathroom.

After an incident in a Colorado bathroom where a mother quickly sheltered her children from my sight, stood watch while I washed my hands, and then udder something under her breath about pedophiles in the bathroom as I left my brain decided that it was time to do something to help identify myself as a women. I came home from my trip and decided to get a tattoo right across the top of my cleavage; that’ll show em! I started to wear very low cut shirts as to say… SEE THESE, IT MEANS I BELONG IN HERE! Needless to say, I gained weight stopped wearing the low cut shirts and quickly fell prey to peoples ignorance every time I entered the bathroom.

One year during the 4th of July, I was with a group of friends at sugarhouse park. We had wondered over to Shopko to use the bathrooms. I walked in, sat down in the stall and begin my business. A few seconds later I hear the bathroom door open and a very timid voice say…”hhheeelllo, um, is their a man in the bathroom?” I couldn’t believe I sat there in silence. The ladies shoes appeared outside my bathroom stall, I am still peeing mind you. She says again “I’m sorry but you can’t be in here sir.” To which I reply “Oh, I was under the impression this was a women’s rest room.” By this time I’ve finished, and I’m starting to pull my pants up. The lady says, “oh I’m sorry and begins looking at the other stalls. “I heard that a man came in the bathroom, did anyone else come in with you?” I reply as I open the door, “nope just me, and the kids in the handicap stall at the end of the row.” When she sees me I can see the reality of what’s happened register on her face. She apologizes allot and then leaves the bathroom. I follow her out of the bathroom to find the father of these children standing there ready to kick whatever man that just went into the bathroom after his children’s ass. I look him in the eye and say, thanks, I’m pretty aware of what bathroom it is I need to use, I am not a man, next time don’t be so quick to judge. Then walk off. These are all pretty common occurrences when I use public restrooms.

Sometimes I’m super quick on the uptake, my brain sees a problem, and can think of a solution and possible out comes for those solutions. When it comes to myself though, my brain has a hard time understanding many things. For YEARS I couldn’t comprehend why I would be so hurt when one of my best friends would get a boyfriend and “leave me” for them. I would feel these extreme rages of jealous and always wonder, why the hell do I care so much? It wasn’t until I came out as a lesbian that things started to click in my head as to why I was feeling that way. The way I feel about my gender and body has been no different. Its like someone turned on a light and I can finally see all these obstacles I’ve been bumping into.

Because of everything and life, I’ve always been very uncomfortable looking at myself in the mirror. NO, matter how I felt about myself at the time, the image of myself was always so much harder to take, and yet I never truly understood why. SO, after almost two years of binding I recently took some time to see just how I looked when I would bind, and how I could possibly do that better and more comfortably. I think I’ve mastered a pretty good combination of binders, and boobsmashing to achieve a decent less feminine appearance to my chest. I can’t say I’ve mastered the comfort level as well as I have the appearance level, but I’m working on it.

Last weekend I went to the west valley swap meet, I strapped on my binders, threw on a baggy t –shirt and some shorts. I haven’t worn shorts in years, I’ll go into that in the future, but this is getting long and I’m not even half way. Bottom line of this outing, I felt incredibly wonderful. Dude, man, brother, even a sir fell from the lips of people that I interacted with in west valley. I felt more comfortable at the west valley swap meet then I have at any gay bar. NOT because it was west valley or because it was a swap meet, but because people weren’t looking at me and wondering is that a boy or a girl. It has short hair, but it has boobs… what strange anomaly of nature is this? In reality my world is much more complex then this, but this is how my brain reacted to what was happening.

Lets see if I can speed this up a little. That evening the need to purchase my first piss and packer overwhelmed me. My brain wouldn’t let me think of anything else. I kept thinking, I’ve got to do this, I can’t expect to keep binding like this and feel justified in using the women’s restroom. Aside from the panic I feel before entering due to potential run ins, I’ve never felt like I should be in the women’s bathroom, or locker room, or any other women only area. I’ve always had a feeling of, I shouldn’t be in here. SO, I did it, I bought my first piss and packer. However, this action has brought a whole slew of new fears. Do I really want to do this, do I really want to live like this. I know for now, I have never felt so comfortable with who I am and how I look then I did a few days ago at the swap meet.

I’m starting to realize and panic about the truth of my situation. The light has been turned on, I can see the obstacles that are in my way, I’m just afraid of the path I suppose. I started to realize over the past few days just how real this is all is. The reality that, my body and mind want to start to sync together. I’ve lived so long inside my head ignoring the reality of what I look like and accepting this body that I fell into a comfortable bubble of fear. I’m very afraid of my families reactions. When my mom found out that I was a lesbian I thought she would never talk to me again. Although she has grown incredibly since then, I still have a great number of fears about what she will say and do. I keep thinking if I can only hold on until my dad isn’t around anymore things will be so much easier, but fuck I feel horrible for even thinking that. So then for awhile I thought, maybe if I move out of the state I could start doing the things I need to do without them physically seeing what changes I’m making. This idea is also fading away more and more each day. I’m starting to be ok with the fact that its ok who I am, regardless of what my family thinks. I’m ok being me. I’m starting to feel a very large disconnect with who I was, along with my body. So I will end now as that was a lot, and I have some new things going threw my brain that I need to process!