Wasn’t going to share this. It might be considered TMI in many circles but it has taken me a lot of years and wisdom to get to this point. Stuff I didn’t learn in books or newspapers but by figuring it out myself. That is always useful to pass on.
I have been toying with the idea of a breast reduction for many years. They aren’t the size of my car or anything, but they are too big for me; I can’t run, can’t see my own feet, make me look bigger than I am on camera, give me back pain, and something that really hit me this summer, they solicit creepy looks from men. No offense, guys….but some of you can be so ridiculously un-evolved sometimes that it makes me sad. And angry. If you are going to stare, at least put on a pair of sunglasses. Look away once in a while. Act like you are really interested in what is happening next to me. Staring straight at the ole ta-tas with your mouth open and drooling slightly is not subtle or appealing. Or cool.
Anyway. I finally got a date offered to me: January 28th. I didn’t have time to think about it or they would have offered it to someone else so I took the plunge and said yes. I’m both thrilled and completely freaked out. It is remarkably invasive and recovery is painful as all hell. I will be taped up and on some crazy painkillers for at least a week. There can be complications and what if it doesn’t go well? What I’m stuck with sad little pancakes and massacred nipples? Yikes. They were big but they were pretty perfect, I must say! And they were mine!! But then I went thru my closet rather gleefully last night: I will be able to wear all the stuff that I haven’t been able to in years (they got bigger with my age change and aren’t going down…hormones, doctor says). I can wear a tanktop! A t-shirt! Shirts with buttons! I will throw out all my fence-post-3-metal-clap bras and replace them with ones that don’t look like canteloupe sling-shots! Yay!
Then I woke up in the middle of the night with massive anxiety. What am I doing? These are a part of me, they are the way I was made, why are you destroying what nature gave you? What does that say about your self-worth, Ferris? Not ok with who you are? Your identity. And then I spoke with my mother. Eek. She loves me and wants what’s best, but she gave birth to these mams….she created them…. She is sad and disheartened that I would reject a part of me that was nature-given. Hmmmm. I really had to think about it. And I did.
I think most women have body issues. Men do too, to some extent. We have our whole lives. We were born with this burden and if you don’t have this issue, then you are a lucky bitch and I’d like to kick you in the shins (not really, but you get my point, right?). But when it comes right down to it, the issue isn’t in the thighs or the muffin tops or the cellulite in places we didn’t think was possible. It’s in our heads. We create the ‘I’m not okay the way I am’ in our thinking, long before we look in the mirror. I have pals who are big girls, and they OWN it. They said, ‘f**k it, this is the way I am and I’m cool with it’. A gal I know eats like a bird but is endowed with some hefty genetics and will never be anything other than who she is. She cried for her 20s, raged for her 30s, and came into acceptance in her 40s. She wears tank tops, short skirts, and sassy sweaters. And she’s great! Her body doesn’t define who she is. That acceptance started in her head. ‘I’m ok exactly the way I am’. She said that in the mirror every day for two years. And now it is here reality. It doesn’t have to take two years.
Find a way to accept that we are. We are always going to find faults with ourselves. ALL OF US. Guys often find something different ( want arms like Daryl on Walking Dead…full head of hair),but most of us come with some built in insecurities, and our parents mean well, but then they add a few more just for good measure (thanks mom!). Those insecurities are going to be there no matter what. I can work around them. I am who I am. Embrace, not reject. If I want to change something (ie lose weight) and have the ability to do so then I can, but I’m going to be gentle on myself while I’m tackling it. And if this is as good as it gets, I’m going to embrace it! What else am I going to do? Some self-help book I read told me to smile at myself. Say nice things to myself. Even if I don’t believe them. Sounds corny but it works.
Same goes for plastic surgery and augmentations. Do it if you want to, I have no opinion or judgement about that, but remember…it’s not going to fix that little voice in you that is say ‘I’m not ok the way I am’. That is an inside job and has to be worked out between the ears.
So here I was. Toiling over this. Was this a body issue that was just going to come up again somewhere else? Happily, I can report that it wasn’t. My health and welfare are involved here. I’m not doing this because I am rejecting this part of me, but because I can’t run, I have a backache, I can’t wear t-shirts in summer. These are important to me. Done. Decision made.
So January the 28th. I’m excited. And freaked out but more excited.
Hope yer well.