BA and 'Talking (to) the Barrett'

Here I am on the early London bound train, on my way to see the Barrett....again. It's a while since we last met. For those who aren't Trans and treated by Charing Cross Hospital, James Barrett is one of the Psychiatrists you are almost certainly going to have to talk to at least once on your journey. The last time the two of us met I was so incredibly scared. It was as if this one man had my whole future in his hands. At the time I was pre-op, hoping for the go ahead to be referred to the surgical team. That was such a nerve wracking time. Would I say the 'right' things? What were the 'right' things to say anyway. In the event I was just myself, answering honestly and truthfully; pouring my heart out about how tough it had been at school and growing up feeling a total girl and not being one. There were some strange questions about whether I had any friends who would lend me money and how much, about my sex life and clothing preferences. I suppose that these questions have to be asked but I felt more comfortable during a recent Gynae exam!

Now I'm a post-op girl and I'm on my way to see him again. I wonder how the conversation will go this time at my follow up appointment? I'll let you know when I'm on my way back. In the meantime I'm trying to imagine what on earth we'll talk about. Here I am; Jane, the girl who won the Trans lottery in 2013: She got it all; the surgery, the amazing recovery, the new friends, the acceptance, the boyfriend, the most beautiful summer, the commitment ring, the promise that her surname will change and that truly wonderful day when 'he' moved in to stay. The stroke of midnight on New Year 2014 brought much more than a lovely romantic kiss; it marked the start of my first complete year as a transitioned woman. A woman on her path to marriage and happiness.

But there's one thing that I'm still not sure about; if you can excuse me mentioning it. It's the size of my boobs. At 34A and a slim little thing I still feel like a teen in the itty bitty titty club. Am I really bothered about it? I don't know, I honestly don't. On the one hand I enjoy being a cute and slim young slip of a thing on the other hand I don't. I'm a woman now and standing naked in front of the glass (something I never did until last year) I still don't feel like one: I feel like a teen. My partner loves it. Sex is great and I can still wear size 6 skinny jeans and size 8 tops. Slim hipped, I don't want to look top heavy and false. I would love to be a B cup and wonder if I'll ever be. If I do have BA it will be for myself and nobody else, to make me feel like I would have been had I been born the girl I should have been.

Pause for thought. Who would I have been really. Who would I have been if I had followed my heart and given birth to at least 4 children? settling for a rather controlling guy (they've always been my my secret addiction) who would have maybe made me feel inadequate, spending my life as a kindergarten teacher. By now, would I have kept looks or lost them? Would I have kept my husband of goodness knows how nanny years? Would I have lost my confidence? Would I have looked like my Mum? Goodness only knows. What I do know is that I am exactly who I am and pretty much starting life all over again: the ultimate 'do over' wish....apart from it having been a necessity. Right now I'm wondering very much whether I shouldn't just accept the woman I've become; just as I am now.

It's hard isn't it? If I was someone who always took the path of acceptance, maybe I would never have transitioned in the first place. I was not. That would have been so hard to bear. Facing the future with a body that didn't match my inner gender I knew I had to change. Now, thankfully, having undergone surgery to become who I truly am, maybe breast augmentation is the logical next step?

So, as you can see, I'm nowhere near ready to make a decision as yet. I need help. Someone to run all this past and help me see inside myself. Will talking the Barrett help. I'm not sure but I'll let you know later.

Hugs,

Jane x

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