Since I am being a transvestite, the most complex issue to process for me was probably my genitality.Beyond the relationship with my own body, the fundamentally problematic issue was the relationship of them with my body.My family's relationship with my body, from my mother's church with my body, my school with my body, of society with my body.

Dressing that body, or undressing it, was the best and the worst act of enunciation.The best because in that my first acts of freedom were enrolled, and the worst because, ultimately, from putting on my clothes, all kinds of specific violence towards me were unlinked.

And while my exterior transition was increasing.

I started with the shaded slips until the first bombs, bath meshes, tangas, culotes, lace, embroidery, cotton and synthetic fabrics arrived.All.All era probar y ver qué ofrecía mejores posibilidades para esconder mi pene, y terminaba por no encontrar nada que me dé seguridad, que me dé comodidad y que además sea lindo.I simply found an intimate garment that would not launch me and cause permanent pain in the genitals.

Why, why not

15 years after starting the journey of my social transition many things revolve in my head around how we do to get the Pito del Cóset.I know that I have it, the kid I like knows that I have it, many of the people around me, who love me, and also much of the one who doesn't, knows that there is a whistle between my legs.And yet, day after day, I get up, I choose a bombshell and hide it again.

Because I am sure that none of these people would feel completely comfortable with my particular and disruptive body combination.The tits carry shell, I don't whistle.But that feeling of mutilation, at least in visual and aesthetic terms, is also internal.So much crushing ... it's mine.

It may interest you:

Letter from a popular transvestite to Mayra Arena

It is simply the quasi-natural reflection that is anchored in 15 years of simulating not to have a penis while the archetypal vision of socially identified as feminine corporalities that have eventually configured my head, to print the idea that my whistle makes meA non-woman.

I understand that all that construct of ideas is due to a normative vision of the feminine.But I can't avoid questioning what would happen if I suddenly consider not hiding my whistle again.What would my life be like if I decided to continue being me, victory, without ever hiding that I was born with penis?

Could I walk again with the tranquility that makes me go unnoticed in public space, in a trade, in a bar?Would you enter a bath with other people with female identification without being observed uncomfortably?Would I continue to find the same people and see me in the same way?

I encourage me to hide the whistle as a way to survive.As a way to slightly mitigate all the sudden hatred that my corporality would receive only for being exposed per se.But what consequences does that imaginary curtaining have in the relationship with my body?How is this reflected in the rest of the aspects of my life, in my health, in my sexuality?

I think I'm never going to undress in front of Une Autre without hiding my penis a little, without trying to simulate that it is not there, without feeling a certain shame of my exposed body.But I feel that we need to speak it, so that another can grow with bodies in freedom.

This note was originally posted in periodic