Dealing with insecurities, looks and kids.

We have a 12 year old and she is growing up. Yay! Nothing is more rewarding as a parent than seeing your kids age with confidence and compassion. She is doing just that!

She is also entering into a peer approval stage. This is so vital in growth. Kids are supposed to question, feel uncomfortable and struggle. This is what it means to be a teen. You’ve got hormones raging, peers learning how to engage, your body growing like a weed, social interactions, school dances, then throw in phones and social media (not in our house, but others) and dude, it can be rough.

We have an open communication rule in our house. We can all talk, share and listen to others with no judgement. She can share with me and I can share with her (age/parent appropriate). I asked her the other day about how my chest made her feel as she was developing. She felt comfortable enough to share that at times she felt bad for me.

Not because I didn’t have boobs, but because she says other moms stare at me. She knew I was different. This was my opportunity to both share that we are all individuals and that its okay to be different as long as are genuine to ourselves. But also a moment to say, okay, this is tough.

So let’s be clear, never have I ever seen people looking at me weirdly or treating me differently. More likely this was her projection of feeling a bit uncomfortable FOR me. Having a mom that is a little different. So first we addressed that I’m okay with the choices I made to be alive and if people looked that is their issue, not mine.

Second I could sense a bit of “my mom isn’t complete” from her. Now this could be projection of my thoughts and boy did that bring up some deep feelings.

As easy as it is, it isn’t easy being the one without nipples and boobs. Do I feel a bit like I’m missing out? Sure. I loved my little perky boobs, I loved my nipples. I loved feeling complete. Having boobs in a swimsuit, feeling sexy.

But you know what I love more (like way more)…. knowing I won’t die from breast cancer early, I wont get ovarian cancer and miss their weddings or grandkids. Knowing I chose to survive, for them! Being alive is the sexiest!

I reminded them that I made this choice to “be incomplete” to survive, to defy fate. That watching all my relatives die early of cancer, missing life was really fucking hard. That I was given the choice to avoid that and yes that included removing boobs. An external flesh society tells us makes us sexy.

But I argue that being here, being alive is damn sexy.

So yeah, is it tough at times? Sure. Do I miss by boobs? Sure. But, I’d do it again because my family, the love we share, the honor I feel that I get to do something my family members didn’t, the opportunity I was given makes it all worth it.