…because it is really hot here in Southern California (who knew? haha), and they make me feel a little bit strange.
Yeah, sure, I guess they make the shape of my chest more obvious, but when I look in the mirror while wearing one, all I really focus on are the strong slopes of my shoulders and the hard line of my jaw and the shadows falling on my neck that accent my barely present Adam’s apple, and I feel more like a guy in drag than ever.
It’s kind of a nice feeling, for obvious reasons, but it makes me feel like an impostor when I go into women’s bathrooms. My breasts act as some kind of free pass into female spaces that I don’t always think I deserve. Give me a necklace and a top with cleavage, and I don’t feel like a girl - I just feel like a spy.