Binding: A True Love/Hate Relationship

First off, a brief introduction-
I have been out as "trans" for a year and a half now. In the beginning I was alright with not making much of an effort to "pass" as male, because, well, my personality dictates that if I'm going to do something, I can't be half-assed about it. For instance, if I'm going to embark on some chore and I don't have the correct tools, I will not attempt to"make due with what I have" but instead say "fuck it" and wait until said tools appear to me. I know this isn't constructive behavior and I also realize that I can't make it apply to every life situation and the way I present myself in public nowadays has been challenged by the way I handle the stress of not being able to simply wake up one morning and be in the correct body.

So, about six months ago, a friend of mine who is taking hormones, but also binding, passed on his old binder to me, having finally grown out of it. I was eccstatic to say the least. I have, in the past done the Ace bandage thing and only for special occasions, such as parties or when I was feeling particularly annoyed with my breasts. It's painful, awkward, and not really something you should do when you have a full day of doing things ahead of you. My breasts would either work their way slowly out of the top, thus making the Ace bandage an excellent push-up bra or create such a tension in the middle of my spine that I felt like I was arching my back all day.

At first the binder felt uncomfortable and I couldn't imagine wearing it for an 8 hour work day, but I was very pleased with how well it concealed my breasts versus things I have tried in the past. Over a matter of a few weeks however, I became used to it. It became a second skin. Now, I never wore it to bed of course and once I knew my partner and I were in for the night, I always took it off. I started receiving compliments from friends - about how I looked more like myself and how I was noticeably more confident and, well, happy. It's a small step in the grand scheme of things, but to me, it has shown me just how badly I need to move forward on transitioning. I like to call binding, the "gateway drug" to ftm transitioning.

Unfortunately, as time has passed, my binding on a regular basis has been causing some problems. I started a new job recently and seeing it as an opportunity for a clean slate as far as how my co-workers view my gender, I have insisted to myself to start making more of an effort to pass. However, two weeks in (and with people in the lab referring to me by female pronouns anyway) I lifted a cooler in such a way that I strained something in my chest and because I was binding, it only made the problem worse. The following day I had terrible chest pain and had to put the binder aside, leaving my breasts free to jump around and let everyone know that I am biologically female and whats worse, tell them that I'm not serious about transitioning, that its a phase, that its something I do for fun, that I can't make up my mind, that I'm self concious, or that I'm weak, or that I haven't thought this through. Everyday when I get dressed to go out, I have to make a choice: my physical health or my mental health. When my body is not being physically restrained I feel tethered to it. But when I try to shove each part into a package that makes sense to me, I exude a kind of confidence I was lacking before.

I suppose what I'm trying to say in this blog is that being trans anywhere can be
a long and fluctuating journey. Some days its just too fucking humid to put on a layer of nylon underneath your clothes and somedays you just can't imagine leaving home without it.