#DEEPTHOTS: Puberty Pt 2
I had a breast reduction the month before I turned 18. In order for me to get it under Obamacare I had to be a child - so my Mom practically rushed me to the operating table. Don’t get it twisted I was all for this surg. I’ve always wanted several new bodies, faces, and aesthetics during my lifetime. Why not start during childhood? I had suffered for decades from having my body sexualized. I was known as the ‘big boob bitch’ as soon as middle school started. I saw boobs first. Not to mention how heavy it was carrying big mommy milkers around all day. Pain and early sexualization aside, my surgery was in many ways my entrance into independence. It’s easy to hide behind your body image. So much of how we treat ourselves is a result of how people treat us. Reducing the size of my bazoogas allowed me to start seeing my body the way I wanted to be seen. As other people who get gender affirming surgery understand, my breast reduction allowed me to explore my presentation. I could wear the shirts I wanted and not have to find all of the exact angles I wanted my body to be seen in. I felt more like me. And now almost seven years after my initial surgery I can feel another puberty upon me.
The first time I went through puberty I was becoming an adolescent. I was establishing my own thoughts from my parents’. My own morals from those around me. The future I saw for myself. I remember jumping shoe and bra size in middle school. Seemingly growing breasts, hips, and a bubble butt overnight. I wasn’t ready for the attention I was already receiving as puberty just exacerbated folks already pedophillic ideas about me. I took the attention as capital. A way to leverage my age against weirdos with money or gifts. I didn’t have enough money, resources, or help to understand that I was being trafficked. That these older people were fascinated with me didn’t think I was 18. The fact that I was lying gave them reason to try me out. I didn’t charge much. I was really there for the experience. Just to say I did it. It turned into an easy way to get money and a way to explore my own sexuality. I gained stability in my life from the consistent money sex work brought in up until two years ago. I finally feel like I'm growing into my adolescence.
With age I’ve grown to build my sex work as a part of my portfolio. It remains a creative outlet for me. As a sexual violence survivor sex work acts as my call for agency. An avenue for control. I’ve learned to love my body no matter what size breasticles it has. But it's also ok to change. My career path accommodates my many talents, habits, and wishes. But I always have a plan A, B, C and D. I want to grow into a person that continues to do things my way. Now that my frontal lobe (or cortex or whatever tf) is fully formed it’s really time to kick it into overdrive! Instead of questioning my morals I’ll have to do as Glorilla and ‘stand on it.’ Instead of feeling moments of gender euphoria I want to work to feel euphoric about how I feel at least once a day. I want to utilize my insurance that I now have through my big girl job and invest in my body. The second half of my twenties is about a month away and I am craving a good revelation. A plot twist. A rumination. You’re only a twenty-something once.
Act like it!
