In the beginning there was serenity and warmth. I sat there in the living room for what seemed like the first time. The sun glowed on the crimson and earth tones carpet. I smiled and absorbed the world again. What happens when I stopped taking the testosterone I don’t produce at first makes for a steady calm. I felt my mind return to the focus I had long ago. But when I boosted the estrogen that mind mind and body want, it was like pulling on a warm blanket around an exposed body.
I live in my body more deeply, and everything becomes a little more my own. The feeling I had coming back to jiu jitsu was one of a new found strength. Not one derived from a hormone pushing oxygen through, but of my mind feeling more at ease with the body it inhabits. The interface now connecting ever more closely to the form.
On top of appreciating this strength, I am also seeing a confidence in my work and ability to sustain myself. I love and look forward to every day I take estrogen. Everyday I took testosterone, rubbed it on my skin, was just another day to be happy I had the insurance to provide a drug subscribed. But it’s no longer a medicine, it’s a joy, the sensation in my body of this switch being turned on and a thrumming, coursing lightness. And while my physical arousal has decreased, my mental and creative arousal kick in.
Now that my skin has softened some and that my figure is shifting, I am beginning to feel a confidence in my own sensuality. It is a pleasure all to my own. Ive known this feeling before when I spent two years off testosterone. I never knew that I would cherish those years so, even though that period was still accompanied with the pressure of seeking out testosterone, a hormone that was so incongruous with my own happiness and sense of self.
None of that seems to matter now that I feel the fruits of my self discovery pay off in an interesting way, breast tenderness. Who would have thought the simple state of my chest becoming physically uncomfortable would also act as a source of affirmation. Today I let a friend of mine know at jiu jitsu that something they did while we rolled hurt. I told them they punched me in the boob. And for me those words contained confidence and matter of factness that would otherwise represent nothing more than just what happens when you practice martial arts. I never expected those words to feel like the most normal and pleasant thing to say.
It was an honor and a privilege to say for the first time and literally mean it, “you punched me in the boob.”