I had my bandages removed two days ago. It was the most remarkable moment of my my life. I looked down and even through the bandages, swelling and bruising... there I was. I was in a state of complete shock. I slipped a shirt over my bare shoulders and stomach and for the first time in many, many years I stepped outside. It sounds strange but I felt naked. Like something was missing. I felt too light, vulnerable even. I was torn between these two experiences for the last couple of days. I sit in my room with my shirt off and I feel at home. Peaceful. Content. Solid. And then I put my shirt on to leave the house and I feel naked, small, vulnerable, fragile. Ive hardwired myself to not leave the house without my binder on. For almost ten years, every single day Ive worn it like a second skin. It has kept me safe, held me together (literally!), changed my profile so that I could blend in, allowed me to feel constantly held even as I felt constricted. Ill never again wonder what it feels like to be so desperate to run back to the predictability of captivity when faced with the strangeness of freedom. The work I put in before I had the surgery was the best investment in my own health and happiness I have ever made. Looking at myself in the mirror and seeing the muscle that should always have been there is enough to bring me to tears. I stand sideways and look at my profile, the soft slope of my chest over my bare stomach and I see a strong and solid man looking back at me. And I cant believe thats me. Thats the guy I always knew was there. I watch my own tears slide down my cheeks and across the broad muscle of my chest and I wonder if Ill ever grow tired of watching that peaceful river across this newly discovered valley. Just like my tears, I know I am home. Its like being born again. Today, finally, I felt that pure elation. I took a deep breath and watched my bare, solid chest rise and fall. The only thing I felt, was home. #IndependenceDay.
Posted on: Fri, 04 Jul 2014 03:19:05 +0000
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