I tried going braless as a trans person, here’s how it went

“I’ve always had a very on-and-off again relationship with bras.”

With Melbourne’s very own brat summer fast approaching, it only makes sense for us to start swapping our layers for summer tops and man-repelling jorts.

But as a transmasculine person, this change in weather also brings with it a fresh set of challenges because of my chest (and top surgery in this economy is not the most affordable option).

Looking for more thought-provoking reads? Try our Life section.

For many transgender and gender-diverse people, chest dysphoria can cause feelings of anxiety and depression. Unfortunately, gender-affirming surgeries and treatments are often very inaccessible, especially for those who are younger or who have pre-existing medical issues.

As someone presumed female at birth (PFAB), top surgery for me would cost between $10,000 to $20,000. Even though it’s an affirming and possibly life-saving procedure, it’s often considered ‘cosmetic’, making it ineligible for Medicare or most health insurance claims.

I’ve always had a very on-and-off again relationship with bras. I’m uncomfortable with the feeling of my chest being covered with a garment specifically made to support breasts (breasts that reinforce my femininity). But I’m not comfortable going braless either.

I’ve opted for binders to help with this, but sensory-wise, they just don’t work for me either. I’ve always had trouble finding binders that fit properly, or I’ve just disliked the fabrics and elastics. I wanted to challenge myself and reframe my relationship with my breasts, so the only option I saw was to try going braless.

Before I go into my braless experiment, I want to emphasise that gender is an individual experience. I don’t want anyone to read this and believe you can just ‘think away’ gender dysphoria. With that said, here’s how my experience played out.

The aim

Ultimately, I wanted was to test how comfortable I felt living the rest of my life with my breasts. I wanted to see how it affected my identity. I also wanted to figure out if I actually wanted top surgery (and if I decided I did, how urgent it was for my mental health).

I’ve worn tight tops braless before, especially in the warmer months, and felt content. But as I grow more comfortable calling myself transmasc, I wanted to see if my feelings have remained the same.

It’s still winter, so although I’m currently layering coats and jumpers, I wanted to try tighter sweaters and clothes that adhered to my natural body shape. I thrifted a few fitted cashmere sweaters during my trip to Italy earlier this year, but I’ve avoided wearing them because I’d become uncomfortable with the idea of having clothes sit so close to my natural body shape.

I also planned on wearing more transparent tops braless, which was obviously a huge step in this experiment, so I saved it for the last day. With my outfits planned, I was ready to give it a go.

Going braless

At the start of the week, attending my uni classes felt safer for me because my university had more open initiatives towards queer inclusiveness, including the Monash’s Queer Lounge, tutors with queer-friendly email signatures and random visual cues around campus to highlight support for the queer community.

However, outside of this environment, going grocery shopping or going to work braless felt extremely vulnerable. Although I got no unwelcome looks in that area, I still felt like my breasts were a very defining feature of my body, because without the support of a bra or a binder, every movement I made caused me to feel uncomfortable in my own body.

Additionally, knowing I was going to be showing my chest more than usual during this experiment influenced my decision to shave my head. The change in my hairstyle helped give me the confidence to show my chest, and it reminded me that my gender expression was more than the fullness of my chest (something I’d completely forgotten since the last time I shaved my head).

Going braless inspired me to find other ways to feel more affirmed in my gender. I was more creative in the way I planned my outfits and layered my accessories and overall, it made me think about the way I expressed myself.

At the end of the week, my girlfriend and I went out for a fancy dinner to celebrate the completion of her course. I wore a transparent black top from Négligé, which I felt was an appropriate final look for my week of experimentation. I paired it with some loose fitting pants from Djerf Avenue for a more formal look and a thrifted blazer.

Although the top was transparent, being able to experiment with what works for my body was a joyous experience. Experimenting with feminine and masculine silhouettes also inspired me through a fashion dry spell.

I ultimately concluded that, for me, top surgery is ideal but not urgent. Going a week without any sort of support for my breasts made me feel more self-conscious and exposed, but it gave me a reason to really think about the relationship I have with my clothes and how it affects my gender identity.

Although biological processes don’t define gender, it’s natural for trans and gender-diverse folks to feel dysphoric because so many discussions surrounding health and wellness are heavily tied to social expectations of the gender binary. Periods, pregnancy, breast-feeding, prostate exams – most things to do with health and medicine have heavy ties to the gender binary, especially when it comes to product marketing.

Although my chest doesn’t define who I am, I’m still learning to forgive myself for being hyper-aware of the existence of my breasts. My gender expression comes through in many other ways, and I’m excited to experiment with what works for me throughout the rest of my life.

For tips on coping with gender dysphoria, head here.