Pillow Talk

I'm very sentimental; sometimes about weird things.  

Back in early 1991, I was an emotional wreck.  I was still recovering mentally from my first suicide attempt (November 1, 1990), and was lonely as hell.  I was seeking connection, feeling- anything (and the massive amounts of alcohol weren't doing the job!)  I was dating a girl I waited on at Fridays.  She was a student at Immaculata College, and was quite nice.

I decided one night that I wanted to buy a new pillow- one that was so big and soft that my head would sink into it to the point of being swallowed up.  This girl came along with me as we searched the King of Prussia mall.  As I knew nothing about pillows, she was very helpful.  Eventually I settled on one from JC Penny's.   The relationship didn't last long, but the pillow lasted.  

The pillow followed me into marriage, in moves from apartment to apartment, to Baltimore, to our house, then back to Pennsylvania.  Wife would steal it when we went to bed for the night, as I would steal hers, which would end up in pillow fights.  My dog Nittany would sleep with her head on it during the day.  

And when I was thrown out, the pillow came with me, then from place to place as I bounced between apartments.  Many insomniatic nights were spent lying on that pillow, and many tears were spilled into it as my life fell apart.

Now I'm back in State College working on my PhD, and yes, the pillow is here with me.  Now, the pillow is quite flat and stained by the tears, blood, and drool of thirty years.  It pretty much is useless as a head support.  I decided to buy a new one.  I still know very little about pillows, but now there are so many types for the different ways people sleep.  

So now I have a new pillow.  Big deal, right?  Yet, the old one and I have been through a lot- it's like part of my soul soaked into it.  To others, it's a ratty old pillow, and yes, that's true.  To me, it's an old friend.  

Some day this week, I will take it out to the dumpster here at the apartment complex, and toss it in.  After all, it's already been replaced.  Would that it were so easy to dump all the Pain that I shared with it.  I'll dump it as I've been dumped by so many people before and especially after transition.  

Useless.

Here I am, waxing nostalgic about a pillow.  This is where my life has sunk to, not like my head which has yet to find a pillow that would swallow it whole.  

Asked about HRT

 In conversation with a closeted transwoman (Terri- I wrote about her on TG Forum HERE), she asked about how it felt when I started Hormone Replacement Therapy (HRT) back in December 2012.  (I wrote about that HERE.)  

She wrote "That must have been quite an experience starting hrt."  I replied "Anticlimactic.  I didn't notice changes but others did.  The first "felt" effect was pain in my pectoral areas."

I thought about it, and it's been a while since I wrote about this (HERE for example).  Like, many years.  I forgot how much of a "Holy Grail" HRT is for so many.  Funny what one takes for granted after a long time.  Of all things, HRT.

So, what was it like?  

As anyone can tell you, it's a slow process.  First, the drugs have to build up in your system, then they take effect.  Like a cisgender girl, the effect is then gradual.  I didn't just wake up one day with big boobs!  (That would've been hard to explain!)

The first thing I felt was a sense of calm as the testosterone weakened.  My anger flares weren't as constant.  I had a haircut for my trial in September, but was letting it grow out since.  I'm guessing the hormones were taking effect, as people said I looked different.  They asked me if I was losing weight (I was, but not much.)  I'm guessing the main reason for their comments were my skin "softening."

Early February 2013, I felt a, well, thickness under my nipples.  They began to hurt a little.  The pain would become a familiar one.  That was my breasts budding.  As they grew, it continued to hurt.  Not badly, but noticeable.  I started wearing t-shirts under the polo shirts I'd wear to work.  Soon, they wouldn't be enough either- the nipples were protruding.  No one said anything, but I noticed.  I invested in some pressure shirts people use for exercising.  

May 18, 2013: first time out without forms

Wearing a bra without forms was a watershed moment (wrote about it HERE).

As the date I chose grew closer, I learned that one pressure shirt wasn't doing the job any more- so I started wearing two.  Ugh. I also wore baggier shirts when at work to "cover" my breast development.  people didn't notice my skin softening.  I told people I was growing out my hair to donate it to "Locks of Love."

January 2021.  I think the HRT worked!

Now it's been eight years.  Having breasts is something I'm used to- but am still thrilled to have!  Some people say my face changed a little, but I don't see it.  In any case, it's been one hell of a ride!