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El Chaston is at peace. With life. With their gender identity. And after years of internal struggle, their body.

It’s taken 21 years to get here. But just weeks before their 21st birthday, Chaston became their truest self, undergoing a removal of their breast tissue – essentially a double mastectomy, or “top surgery” – to reflect their non-binary identity.

After years of pain – physical and mental – it “all just washed away”.

“Growing up, I never felt comfortable with my chest,” Chaston said. “I always felt like it was something I wasn’t super associated with.

“Growing up, it was very much that you were a girl or a boy. But for me, I did not align with my assigned gender (of female).

“I just had to live with it, even though I was super uncomfortable.

“I really hated getting changed in front of the mirror and stuff. I just didn’t feel comfortable looking at my chest or associating with my chest. At all.

“I was uncomfortable in the clothes I was wearing and every day it was a battle to try and find comfort in my own body.”

The Melbourne local always battled to find their place – where they “fit”.

“I couldn’t put a name to what I felt that I was,” they said.

It wasn’t until the likes of former Gold Coast AFL Women’s player Tori Groves-Little – more on them later – and Carlton goalkicker Darcy Vescio revealed they identified as non-binary that Chaston felt the light bulb start to flicker.

Earlier this month Hawthorn captain Tilly Lucas-Rodd also revealed they now identified as non-binary.

THE AFLW EFFECT

A non-binary person issomeonewho does not identify exclusively as male or female, or determines their gender identity cannot be defined within such margins. They might feel as if they are a mix of the genders – or maybe neither.

Pronouns such as they/them can be adopted over those such as she/her or he/him, which Chaston – then a Collingwood AFLW player – elected to do last August after much soul-searching and support from their teammates.

“It goes to the importance of representation of diversity in sport,” they said.

“It was actually TGL (Tori Groves-Little) putting themselves out there and giving more representation, that educated and exposed me to gender identity and diversity.

“At that time, I still wasn’t sure if that’s how I completely aligned. Then there was Darcy Vescio and this conversation was starting.

“I hadn’t talked to anyone at that stage but in my head I was like, ‘I actually think this fits me. I fit, all of a sudden.’

‘I JUST COMPLETELY BROKE DOWN’

Chaston – a believer that there are “no insignificant moments in life” – travelled to Sydney ahead of the last AFLW season last August, and found themselves grounded in a gate lounge after three consecutive flight delays. There was time to think. And to take the next step.

A WhatsApp message to the playing group was formulated, drafted and edited. They consulted with ex-teammate and best friend Chloe Molloy – who Chaston credits with being a vital part of their journey – and then it was sent.

“I’m still trying to work out who I really am,” the message read in part, indicating a preference to trial gender-neutral pronouns within the club.

“I’m not 100 per cent sure on this but I’d really like to try in a space where I feel comfortable and safe and, for me, that’s the footy club.”

The phone was immediately switched to airplane mode and turned over on the floor. Chaston’s reaction was visceral.

“I just completely broke down,” they recalled. “The weight was lifted.”

The enormous support that followed was just as overwhelming.

“It was just incredible … (my teammates said) ‘We want to do this for you. We want to help you feel like the best version of you,’” Chaston said.

“To this day, out of all my sporting achievements – getting drafted, playing a debut game, captain of my NAB League (Under 18s) side, back to basketball days, nothing beats that sporting memory of having a team come to me and being like, ‘We’ve got you.’

“I think that speaks volumes of AFLW.”

TELLING THE FAMILY

Then there was telling their family – parents Paul and Trish, and three brothers.

“I wanted to make sure that by Pride Round (of last AFLW season) I was really open and proud with my identity,” they said. “I’d become very affirmed and confident that this is the best way for me to identify. I felt like it really affirmed the way I felt about myself.

“I started the conversations with my parents and my family, saying that being like this is the best way for me to feel like the truest version of El.

“Nothing actually changes about me. It’s just the way that you refer to me is slightly different.

“My parents processed what I had just explained and took further time to get further education around gender identity. For them, they hadn’t really known anyone else that had identified like that.

“It is now a really natural thing around my family.”

THE QUESTION — WHY?

If “Why?” is the first question normally put to Chaston, the second is generally along the lines of, “Does this mean you’re transitioning (to male)?”

That’s not the case, they affirmed.

Chaston – who was also an elite junior basketballer – had been binding their chest for two years leading up to their non-binary revelation, for almost every minute of the day, except when playing football, in a bid to give the appearance of a flat chest.

Binders – high compression garments that aim to flatten the appearance of breasts – were hard to come by and expensive, prompting Chaston to explore Facebook Marketplace for second-hand options.

“Prior to that, I would wear two sports bras – all the time,” they said.

“Whether I was at sport, home, school, sleeping, everything. It was always very compressed on my chest.

“I was already doing major damage. Then I went to binding. When people ask me about binders, I say they’re great for affirming the way you want to feel about your body, but they’re terrible for your chest. And you’ve got to have really good binding practices, which I had none of.”

Medical professionals advise binders be removed at night, and warn that wearing binders that are too tight can cause underlying damage.

“It was a case of, if I don’t wear the binder, yes my chest doesn’t hurt as much, but mentally I really struggle because I feel uncomfortable, I don’t like the way shirts sit on me, I don’t like looking at myself in the mirror. I’m not seeing a reflection of how I view myself,” Chaston said.

“Then I’d put the binder on – alleviate all the mental side, but have to deal with really sore ribs, back, chest hurting, can’t really breathe – all those types of things.”

Baggy shirts and binders couldn’t be worn on the football field. “A footy jersey – they’re not very forgiving on the best of days,” Chaston laughs.

“I remember my first season, photo day. I wore my two sports bras as tight as I could. I remember getting the photos back and I was like, ‘Oh, great photos but … you can tell I’ve got boobs.’

“It didn’t really sit well with me. The next year, I wore a binder. When we got them back … I was like, ‘That’s how I want to look all the time.’ That is the most affirming photo of me.

“All of a sudden I was like, for my mental health and physical health, I can’t keep binding.”

Chaston believes there are no insignificant moments.

THE LIFECHANGING MOMENT

A chance sighting of Tori Groves-Little’s Instagram story indicating they were preparing for top surgery, a chest masculinisation procedure, was a moment Chaston won’t forget.

They reached out and asked for surgeon details and more information about the process.

Chaston “had no idea” what it would entail but was determined that this was their path, seeking referrals from a GP to two Melbourne surgeons and one in Brisbane.

The two Melbourne options had a long wait time for both consultation and surgery – hampering Chaston’s AFLW season plans – while Brisbane specialist Dr Alys Saylor had a consultation opening in November and surgery windows in January. It was on.

The then-20 year old jetted north with Molloy and then-fellow Pie, Jordyn Allen, the trio still filling out forms as they rushed to make their flight home in time for the Magpies’ best and fairest awards that night.

Surgery was scheduled for January 4, a day after Groves-Little’s scheduled procedure. “I didn’t have an ounce of nerves – I didn’t second guess it,” Chaston said.

Paul and Trish travelled alongside their child, who “couldn’t ask for more supportive parents”.

The moment Chaston’s bandages were removed will stay with them forever.

They had looked down when they woke from surgery – struck by the curves that still remained, only to be told that was in fact their pectoral muscles which had until then been obscured.

They rushed to the bathroom.

“I didn’t even need to pee – I just wanted to look in the mirror,” they said.

“I looked and I was like, ‘This is perfect’. And that was still with a big bandage.

“Having the bandage off was one of the most euphoric moments I have ever experienced. Just being able to look down and see that I had a flat chest. To look down and only see torso. Everyone watches the video of it and notices my smile in that moment.

“This is how I’ve always wanted to look. This is how I’ve always been meant to be.”

Their original nipples have been regrafted, though some who undergo surgery choose to have their nipples removed entirely.

Recovery wasn’t easy.

“Once the drains come out and you start getting a bit more movement, it’s actually harder because you shouldn’t be doing a lot of movement,” Chaston said.

“It’s restricting yourself. You don’t realise how much you use your chest.

“Mum and dad would put my phone next to my shoulder, because I couldn’t actually reach it, so they’d put it just out of my reach just so they could laugh at me trying to get it.”

The scars remain, and receive ongoing care. A reminder, Chaston says, of how far they have come.

CELEBRATING EL

Their new self was celebrated at their 21stbirthday in February – also referred to as their “first birthday” – marked with emotion from mum. “I put her on the spot to make a speech,” Chaston said.

“She didn’t really know what to say.

“She said, ‘I thought I knew my child. I thought I knew my child was happy.

“But after El had surgery, I finally realised that this is how El is meant to be, because they are so happy.”

Chaston said, “And you don’t know someone’s not happy until you see them at their best. All of a sudden, you realise that, yeah, they were happy, but they were still struggling heaps.

“That was the best way to encapsulate it. All of a sudden I felt that this was the most true version of me. At the end of the day it doesn’t impact anyone else. No one else has to live in my body and look in the mirror and see how I view myself.

“That was like the best thing ever.”

They have since met a female partner, more open to a relationship now they are “content and happy with my body”, and returned to football with Essendon VFL Women’s team over recent weeks.

Delisted by Collingwood AFLW in mid-February, the dream of returning to AFL Women’s still burns.

THE MEANING BEHIND THE TATTOO

Swimming shirtless for the first time marked “a core memory” for Chaston they will hold dear, and deep conversations at music festivals and events have been sparked by their visible scars.

The addition of a striking tattoo on their chest was a vital step.

“After surgery, one of the first things I wanted to get was the HUMAN tattoo done,” they said. “I have two I see as meaningful to me coming out – the little angel on my bicep, which is an ode to my younger self and all that the younger El went through so that I could be the person that I am now. A bit of a caterpillar into a butterfly type thing.

“After surgery I got HUMAN tattooed as a bit of a statement piece that although I’ve got these two pretty big scars, at the end of the day we’re all human.

“If people get confused or concerned or they’ve got questions about how I identify or why I had surgery, it’s the first thing I go back to. I’m just a human. I’m just El.

“But I am human. That’s the most important thing.”