The Beautiful Kind

I’m reading a book called She’s Not There, a college professor’s memoir of what it’s like to be transgendered. Born a man, Jennifer Boylan felt female since pre-kindergarten, and at age 40 finally decided to make the official transition from male to female. Needless to say, this was difficult for her wife. An excerpt:

As a man, my sex drive frequently resembled a monologue by a comic book hero succumbing to an evil spell. “Must - have! Must! Trying - to - resist! Getting harder to- Must have! Can’t - resist!”

I’d been driven to such a delirium not only by the sight of breasts, but by the suggestion of breasts, even by the theory of breasts.

Now, when I looked at my own breasts, I had a simple sensation of, Well - there they are. My friend asked me, “What’s it like? What’s it like to have boobs?”

“It’s not like anything, ” I simply said. “They’re just there.”

He shook his head. “Man, you are turning into a woman. One thing about women, they have no idea how interesting their tits are. They don’t think they’re all that remarkable at all. I mean, when I’m with girls sometimes I just want to say, How can you concentrate on anything, looking like that?

“Sorry,” I said. “They’re great, but you know. The world doesn’t revolve around breasts.”

“Listen to you!” He shouted. “Of course the world revolves around breasts! What else would it revolve around?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Like maybe the sun?”

He looked at me as if I was a stranger. “The sun, yeah, right.” He sighed. “I wish you could hear yourself.”

“Sorry dude,” I said. “There are more important things in the world than breasts.”

My friend looked regretful.

“What?” I said.

“I’m trying to think of something more important than breasts.”

“How about family? Children? Relationships? Good health?”

“Traitor,” he said.