A brief introduction may be necessary here.

As you have probably read in my entry about binding, my beliefs and experiences are not aligned with the majority of trans* people. I am more comfortable with the body I was born with than even some non-trans people, but that does not invalidate the body dysphoria felt by other trans* people. I do not believe in comparing myself to others and I hope you don't, either. My experiences and beliefs are relevant only to my life, so if you are reading this to gain a better understanding of trans* people in regards to why they are uncomfortable with their bodies, you won't find much of that here. Yes, puberty was horrible for me because I grew breasts, but being on testosterone eliminated any and all issues I had with my chest. I don't see any reason guys can't come in all shapes and sizes. There are non-trans men who have a much larger chest than I do and no one cares -- as it should be. I refuse to change something about myself that I don't feel I should have to change in order to be accepted as a man.

About packing. At first I felt compelled to pack because I thought I would feel better about myself and feel socially secure if I did. I didn't necessarily feel insecure, but I felt like everyone could tell I didn't have anything "in my pants." It wasn't until later that I realized not only do people not notice with their eyes, but even when they grab me or hit me on accident or on purpose they don't notice.

The first time I started packing was with a soft packer from The Smitten Kitten. It was cool at first. Different. But it felt right... for all of a month. I found it strange and unnerving to wear it without a "cock sock" to hold it in place around my waist. I mean, seriously, without it I had to reach down and grab it and put it in my pocket every time I wanted to use the restroom. Ridiculous... or should I say, recockulous?

My roommate at the time took to grabbing my crotch ALL the time. If I wasn't packing, she'd ask me, "where's Fred?" She named both of my packers... how thoughtful of her. It got to the point where I stopped packing all together because I didn't like being grabbed, and nothing I said made her stop. For that and other more complicated reasons, I gave her an eviction notice and 2 weeks later she was gone. I still didn't go back to packing. It was too much of a hassle. If I wore the "cock sock" it stayed in place... but not with boxers. The only way to make it immobile was to construct something out of a jock strap. I cannot stand having straps around my legs. It irritates me to no end. Packing, for me, meant never being able to wear boxers or boxer briefs unless I wore briefs underneath. Who wants to wear two layers of underwear? Not me. Plus, standing to urinate is frustrating when you have to move a packer out of the way. Try doing that at a urinal without people suspecting that you're playing with yourself. No thanks!

I thought about it for a while and realized that I had been packing for other people. In case I got grabbed or in case a situation arose where I didn't want to look abnormal. I wasn't doing it for myself, and so I stopped.

People pack with all kinds of things and devices. Condoms with hair gel inside, socks, and even packers designed to look and feel real. For me, I cannot stand the idea of packing with something that does not look real. But by that same token, I can't stand packing because it's not real. If I woke up one day and had a penis, that wouldn't be a problem. But right now, I don't. I wasn't born with one and quite honestly I don't want one.

Everyone has limits regarding what they can learn to live with, what they can accept about themselves, and what they can't learn to live with. Each person is different. Some people can live with top surgery alone and never go on hormones while others need both to feel comfortable. Just because I can accept my physical body the way it is, does not invalidate others who cannot. Similarly, the fact that there are people who can accept their body without going on testosterone does not invalidate my need to be on it.

For me, packing is an unnecessary annoyance. If someone grabs my crotch and wants to know why there's nothing to grab, they can bugger off. I keep better company than that and I don't go to bars or clubs or put myself in social situations where there are people who think it's okay to grab a stranger's crotch. I stopped hanging around those types of people in high school. The bottom line here is that I think it's ridiculous to stuff something in my pants. I wish all trans people could be as comfortable with their bodies as I am... and I do understand the need to feel something "there" but I just don't share that need.