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After nearly a decade of carrying around two of...
After nearly a decade of carrying around two of Earth's lost moons on my chest I've finally scheduled a consultation for breast reduction (10/7/16). This is a really emotional time for me and I hope I can articulate everything I'm feeling. I'm about to get really real here.
I can't begin to express the agony this has caused me. The worst part of it all- BY FAR - is the correlation between the mental and physical suffering. This insecurity-on-steroids doesn't need a mirror to manifest itself. The neck pain, shoulder pain, back pain, and headaches serve as a consistent reminder of my deformity. I don't remember what it feels like to forget my body.
But I'm ready to find out.
The exponential growth of my boobs started when I was in 8th grade. At age 14 I still felt like a child, and the misalignment of my emotional immaturity and my rapid physical development resulted in a complicated and somewhat traumatic coming-of-age experience. Since then, I haven't had a single moment of comfort in my skin. My body checking was and still is obsessive and out of control. I live in constant hyper-awareness of what I look like at any given moment and can't get through 10 seconds without adjusting to make my chest less noticeable.
I first learned about breast reduction when I was 15. The information came to me from my greatest source of wisdom at the time - Yahoo Answers. Upon learning about the procedure, I knew I had to have it. But I wasn't ready to talk about it. My boobs were a source of shame for me. I felt responsible for my own sexualization and could not bring myself to discuss it with anyone. Meanwhile the pain and the self-loathing festered inside me. After years of internalizing these feelings (although let's be honest, I still do), I finally told my mom about wanting a breast reduction. Her answer? A resounding "no". But it didn't matter - I had planted the seed. After much nagging and some tears, the idea grew on her. I'm happy to say that in the last few years I've gained her support.
I've wanted this surgery for over 8 years, but the timing (and $$$) has never been quite right. Also the idea of being knocked out and sliced open has always been slightly disconcerting. Anyway - I don't know what it is about 23, but I came into this year with the clarity that I needed to do this immediately. For a master procrastinator like myself (even when it comes to my own happiness), this was a big deal. Now, after nearly a whole year of saving up money and researching the best surgeons in Los Angeles, I finally feel like it's my time. Scheduling my consultation felt empowering and liberating. It won't be easy and I know that I'll have to do a lot of healing ( both physical and mental) after surgery, but I'm so ready and so eager to come out on the other side of this.
I can't begin to express the agony this has caused me. The worst part of it all- BY FAR - is the correlation between the mental and physical suffering. This insecurity-on-steroids doesn't need a mirror to manifest itself. The neck pain, shoulder pain, back pain, and headaches serve as a consistent reminder of my deformity. I don't remember what it feels like to forget my body.
But I'm ready to find out.
The exponential growth of my boobs started when I was in 8th grade. At age 14 I still felt like a child, and the misalignment of my emotional immaturity and my rapid physical development resulted in a complicated and somewhat traumatic coming-of-age experience. Since then, I haven't had a single moment of comfort in my skin. My body checking was and still is obsessive and out of control. I live in constant hyper-awareness of what I look like at any given moment and can't get through 10 seconds without adjusting to make my chest less noticeable.
I first learned about breast reduction when I was 15. The information came to me from my greatest source of wisdom at the time - Yahoo Answers. Upon learning about the procedure, I knew I had to have it. But I wasn't ready to talk about it. My boobs were a source of shame for me. I felt responsible for my own sexualization and could not bring myself to discuss it with anyone. Meanwhile the pain and the self-loathing festered inside me. After years of internalizing these feelings (although let's be honest, I still do), I finally told my mom about wanting a breast reduction. Her answer? A resounding "no". But it didn't matter - I had planted the seed. After much nagging and some tears, the idea grew on her. I'm happy to say that in the last few years I've gained her support.
I've wanted this surgery for over 8 years, but the timing (and $$$) has never been quite right. Also the idea of being knocked out and sliced open has always been slightly disconcerting. Anyway - I don't know what it is about 23, but I came into this year with the clarity that I needed to do this immediately. For a master procrastinator like myself (even when it comes to my own happiness), this was a big deal. Now, after nearly a whole year of saving up money and researching the best surgeons in Los Angeles, I finally feel like it's my time. Scheduling my consultation felt empowering and liberating. It won't be easy and I know that I'll have to do a lot of healing ( both physical and mental) after surgery, but I'm so ready and so eager to come out on the other side of this.