I’d love to say that I got the mastectomy with reconstruction and life was perfect. That I avoided breast cancer AND got new boobs.

But life had different plans. There were many surgeries to “fix” the imbalances, to fix the ripples that appeared every time I leaned forward. Sucking fat from one area to inject into another. Each time with anesthesia and a long recovery wearing some sort of cinching device and time to recover from the trauma my body endured.

I am a runner, so each surgery set me back from my goals. How muhc more could I take?

I am also not a cleavage person, so new fake boobs were waited on me. No matter how hard I tried to embrace the new bigger perkier boobs, they usually hid under my sports bra and t-shirt. I’d say maybe it added a bit of confidence at the beginning. Then… the compliments started rolling in.

I reached a point where when I got a compliment on how I looked it didn’t feel real. I felt like I was only receiving it because of my boobs. Now, this is probably 99% wrong, but I felt fake, my confidence was fake. I felt frumpy.

Along with the mental set backs, I started having some weird things happen. I was suddenly allergic to Neosporin; my entire arm swelled after I applied it to my hand. I got a rash on my shins and stomach EVERY time I wore jeans. I had brain fog like no other. I had a feeling like my boob was tearing along the incision when I rolled over in bed that never seemed to go away. The nipples never regained feeling, the boob never regained feeling. My tissue under had feeling but the skin itself… no feeling. No cold nipples when it was freezing outside, and that is a weird feeling.

I was unhappy with them and no matter what the surgery, it didn’t fix the problem: I didn’t want implants.

I’m a self described redneck-hippie-biologist. 🤣 I love hard work and living in the country, I love a good “crunchy” all natural product, I love science. I view myself as a very eclectic person. Yet, getting implants was against my core values from the beginning, but I did it anyway and it felt right when I made the decision. I truly believe it was an important part of my journey.

Then, the mama of symptoms. A period that wouldn’t stop, then a period that wouldn’t come. At 38 my hormones were messed up, I was in perimenopause. NOT GONNA HAPPEN! 🙅‍♀️ I did some more research and came to the conclusion that implants were not for me.

I was destined to be a flattie. And I was okay with that.

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