Happy Monday, sweet friends.
That Nordstrom Anniversary Sale was a lot, right? Don’t get me wrong – it’s hands down THE best sale of the year. BUT. After 3 weeks of talking about clothes and what you need to add to your closet for fall and a lot of things, I feel like I need a clothes cleanse.
And no, that doesn’t mean I’m going to be walking around nude all day. But it does mean I want to take the attention away from what you might think you need to feel better about yourself and talk more about what’s already in you that makes you PRETTY DAMN AWESOME.
When I was 27 years old and living in Atlanta, I got a boob job.
Friends and family were surprised, as it hadn’t necessarily been something that I had ever talked about doing and the subject had never even come up before I’d decided to go ahead with it.
Here is where I could tell you all about the unhealthy relationship I was in. I could tell you he was shallow and I was insecure and trying desperately to make something work that shouldn’t.
I could tell you that since the Dr was retiring soon, he decided to go with a bigger implant than we’d previously discussed, since “95% of women come back to get them bigger,” so he saved me a trip. (Thanks, Doc.)
But even now, 10 years later, I’m not sure exactly why I chose to have implants. Maybe it was for the shock factor. Maybe my craving for belonging and being loved got the best of me. Maybe I was running from myself – a race I’d come to know well in my 20’s.
It turns out, I hated having big breasts.
And though I couldn’t tell you exactly why I chose to get them, I could list 100 reasons why I chose to remove my breast implants less than 3 years later.
Much like the sinking feel I’ve felt when I left the salon with a haircut I despised, the weight on my chest was weighing on me. It wouldn’t be better in 2 months. It wouldn’t grow out. My new breasts were a part of me for life, and I wanted out.
They didn’t fit. And not just my clothes. (Goodbye, turtlenecks.) It took me 5 minutes to realize the message I was sending to the world wasn’t the one I’d intended. I didn’t want the attention I was getting and I was getting lost. The person I had spent my whole life becoming was replaced by the girl with the big boobs.
I was “tits on a stick” and I missed me.
Have you ever Googled something and had little to no results come up? Google exists to make sure we know we’re not clever and we’ve never had an original thought in our life, right?
That’s what I thought, until I started researching removing breast implants and searching for before and after photos. Every search returned the same message: don’t remove implants. Instead, replace them with a different, smaller implant.
I didn’t want a smaller implant. I wanted ME. Just me.
These days, my breasts mean something entirely different to me, beyond cup size and cc’s and rebellion and belonging. They’ve nourished my 2 daughters. They’ve battled and recovered from mastitis multiple times.
And I can wear turtlenecks again.
I don’t judge anyone who chooses to get breast implants. I get it. If you’ve struggled with or dislike something, you work to change it. You make informed choices. You talk to your loved ones. You work through all of the options. You get a second and third opinion. You listen. And if you still decide it’s right for you, you do it.
But, I also believe you can change your mind. If you’ve made a mistake, you can fix it.
You can always make a different choice.
So. If you’ve stumbled upon this post in a late night Google search, wondering if you can remove implants and still feel normal: YES. You can.
And if you’re reading this after following me for awhile, thank you. For allowing me a place to share all of this…
(Head to the bottom of the post to see me circa 2010.)
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Me in 2010.
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