Breasts mark me as woman. If something makes me consciously aware that I have them then I'm consciously aware that I'm marked as woman.
Hard to explain. Having them, no problem. But I know they mark me as woman and I know they mark me as inadequate and I've had enough experience of what the world does to the women deemed inadequate. And I can't control the emotional responses the reminder triggers very well because my emotional regulation capacities are fucked.
It's not about what I am or what I look like; it's about how I understand other people to be experiencing me. I don't want to be reminded that I'm the unhuman thing but it's pretty much unavoidable when your body's visibly female.
I imagine old-school transsexual males are running from being the inhuman monster in much the same way, just flipped across the sex axis.
Worst I get I can't leave the house because I can bear for people to see me because then I exist in their minds as woman-the-unhumanned-thing. Flipside, thanks to this place, I did two years of free boobs (fuck the scaffolding of oppression!) with positive mental framing, which was pretty helpful.
Arse, also an issue, tackled that one years back and can now wear women's cut trousers that actually fit.and
I'd still struggle occasionally with the female aspects of my body on a desert island, but only because I'd take my own psychological problems with me. Wouldn't be too severe for me, but then I've put a fair bit of work into radical self acceptance of body over the past few years, thanks to this place.