Big-Tit Energy

I owe all you ladies an apology.

Since the phrase was coined, I’ve enjoyed the notion of “Big-Dick Energy”. I adore the idea that the vibes one puts into the world are far more important than “physical” actuality (surprise, surprise a trans person feels this way). It’s the same reason I love short-kings. You don’t need to be of a regal stature to command a room. You can be a funky little goblin boy and still be absolute royalty in my mind. So it also goes for dick-energy.

Before we proceed any further, I will offer full disclosure that I am endowed with exactly the average physical size. Top of the “bell curve” as it were, but I have luxuriated in unearned swagger for years. And now that my body has changed dramatically after two years of hormone therapy, I’ve discovered another type of “energy”. I realise with hindsight that I’ve an apology that I owe to ladies of the world who’ve had breast surgery. Yes. I am talking about the eponymous Big-Tit Energy.

When I was living in a man’s body, I would roll my eyes when I heard women talking about their boob-job as giving them confidence. Shaking my head at how it changed the way they dressed, how they moved, how they walked into a room… everything was different for them. It always seemed so ridiculous to me that something like that would change your whole life. I would scoff at it… but I can scoff no more.

Now, thanks to the wonders of HRT, I’ve grown my own pair of cha-chas. And they’re nice. Like… genuinely nice. Would I call them “kahunas”? Not yet. They’re certainty more than “bee stings” but far less than “juggernauts” … Maybe I should refer to them as “The Bouys”? (Dear readers that’s an example of a transfeminine joke that only works in print.)

Regardless of what they shall finally be named I can tell you that now that I have them I sure as fuck walk into rooms tits first. At the beginning of my transition I always wore a bra because they gave the impression of boobs, the implication that this was a “bewb zone” … the place where “the chips and dips” went. But now that I have them… god damn I love not wearing a bra. I love that they bounce. I love that they have shape and heft. I love that they have the perkiness of youth as gravity has only been impacting them a year while the body they are attached to is four decades old.

In case you haven’t realised… I’m super pleased about the whole “badonkers” situation.

So, ladies, I humbly apologise. There is such a thing as “boob confidence”. I was wrong to roll my eyes. I should have believed you. So now lucky me I get to navigate this world with both “Big-Dick Energy” AND “Big-Tit Energy”. Take that hertronotamtive shitheads.

– S