Thin-Skinned

I’ve always felt like I’ve been over-sensitive and emotionally thin-skinned, so I savor the irony as that I become more mature and my ego develops a thicker skin, my body’s skin is thinning out almost in compensation.

It’s because of the spiro — the anti-androgen. One effect is that it’s made my skin silky-smooth and soft to the touch… moreso than I could ever have imagined. And the thinner skin means more sensitivity… and not just confined to my fingers. I can actually feel a lot more than I used to, and all over my body… the slight rubbing of my jeans/pants against my legs, the actual weight and texture against my butt when I walk, the clothing tag rubbing against my neck.

Nothing sexual, no, it’s not that — but still very sensual and so very new and different to me. I don’t think I have ever felt my clothes on my body before.

Sometimes I just sit and rub my fingertips together, against each other, feeling their smoothness, or I glissando over my forearms or face or the sides of my torso just to feel the creamy silk of it all and revel in wonder and joy.

Because it feels so… right. Finally. To feel soft.

To feel so much more acutely.

I am having trouble remember what it felt like to not experience so much sensation, nor can I imagine what it’s like under the onus of estrogen along with the removal of testosterone.

Along with the thinner layer of skin also comes more vulnerability to temperature, more susceptibility to the “flux” of the atmosphere around me. I’ve been very cold in the last few weeks, more cold than I thought I should feel, the cold that seems to get into my marrow and makes me shaky. Now I know it was the spiro and not just in my head.

And so much more of the gender mindsets make sense to me now. Because the body changes trigger mirroring emotional and mental changes.

If what I am feeling now is at least partly indicative of what the average woman feels like, I can understand how women feel more connected to each other and the world. And why they are more sensitive to what goes on around them, emotionally and physically. And why physical surface pain might hurt more or they notice injury more. And why they are more sensitive to the pain of others, especially their children.

I understand why they like being touched… and why illicit touch is so bothersome and sometimes even offensive. And why they might cry just because they don’t feel right. The penchant for lots of different clothes made of various fabrics, many softer, is an obvious but not isolated aspect of the physical sensitivity.

Likewise, I understand why men don’t notice as much when they hurt themselves, why they can survive playing a SuperBowl game despite being battered about, bruised, beaten.

I understand why men might seem more insensitive to the discomfort of others or think people should just shrug it off. And why they are more focused on gaining/wielding power and ability, than avoiding pain/hurt. Why they seem clueless to how women think and respond. Why they can give advice to women about “being tough” that shows they just don’t “get it.”

Men, because of testosterone, are granted what amounts to a suit of armor that insulates them a bit from the external world. This protects them and lets them fight, scrap, struggle, strive… but also puts up a pliant but obfuscating wall between themselves and others emotionally/relationally to some degree.

When I hit my head two days ago, I don’t think I would have cried a year ago. Now I just wanted to sob for awhile… it was a physical reaction. Not an out of control sob, I just felt… unright… and crying would have actually helped my body to get over it and move on. I didn’t even feel like I was being a baby for being so weepy about it. In comparison, men are expected to get back up quickly and bounce back… and I think their “natural numbness” compared to women helps them with that.

I never dreamed that becoming tougher would mean also becoming softer.