I know exactly when it happened: 10:45 am at the surgical clinic. As part of my admissions process, the nurse needed to see me in all of my glory to ensure that I prepared for the surgery properly.

She took me aside, asked me, and I complied without hesitation.

Then an hour or so later the surgeon met me in my hospital room so that we could meet, to answer any questions, ...and to ensure that I had prepared properly as well as a visual inspection to confirm what he'd be working with.

Here too I complied without hesitation.

For various reasons (propriety and dysphoria combined), I've always been intensely private, but as of June 16th, circumstances and a changing context have meant that, well... it has meant that I've been seen by twice as many people after June 16th as before.

If that wasn't enough, in tracking my healing, my phone's camera roll has been filling up too. Whereas it used to be mostly the cats or something I've wanted to share, my reconfigured self now features prominently.

Something something Mrs. Slocombe reference something something

While it's not the beginning of a new me in those ways, I've just noticed that there is a context in which I'm less guarded.

Well, that's not entirely true: having eliminated the single-largest source of lower-half dysphoria (Narrow hips and no butt are now load-bearing. We'll see where eating disorder remission takes me.), I'm certainly now unconcerned with random breezes and am very much looking forward to swimming - properly suited - for the first time once I'm healed.

July 10, 2026