As a young girl, all I wanted to be was a grown up (no I did
not have surgery to reverse this decision) and for some reason, to me that
included having boobs. As I got a little older, the term late bloomer
definitely applied, I insisted on wearing training bras when really, there was
no need for them, in the 5
th grade. All of my friends were
developing, and I felt left out (the fear of missing out issue is still a big
thing for me) I wished and I prayed and I cried that I wasn’t developing like
my friends.
Finally in high school, I started to fill out a bit, and
then it wouldn’t stop. As I left my grade nine year I was a solid B cup, a size
I was very happy with, but by the end of the summer I was close to filling out
a DD. When I returned to school for grade 10 my friends were convinced I was
stuffing my bra. By grade 11 I was an E and just as I was leaving high school
it was almost impossible for me to find a bra in stores like La Senza or Victoria’s
Secret. I have a tall more slender frame
the proportions were out of whack for a long time.
Now while large boobs are something some people pay a lot of
money to get, I never ever wanted them. I wanted boobs, like my friends, the
handful sized. I’m also one to not like a lot of attention, and well, when you
come back after a summer and look like you might be stuffing- you get some
attention. Attention I have never been comfortable with. To take away from the attention, I started
wearing flowy blouses, and slouching my shoulders to cross my arms. I quit
figure skating, one of the reasons being my back just couldn’t handle it (and
that was a few sizes ago)
In my first year of university I had to start going to those
fancy stores where the bras are ordered in from France and cost around $100 (a
lot more than a 19 year old can spend). Even in these stores, I was growing out
of sizes quickly. They literally would not stop, (the phrase be careful what
you wish for is super relevant here). When I so badly wanted boobs, I did not
realize that they are heavy (especially the large ones) and can cause severe
back and neck discomfort. I used to get tension headaches from my bras. My
sides under my arm pits are permanently marked from where bras that don’t fit
properly have rubbed until it burns, and I like to slouch to take some of the
attention away, which isn’t good for posture. It was at this age I began wondering about
surgically removing some of the problem.
For a couple years I pondered this thought, weighing the
pros and the cons of the surgery. I really thought about what the surgery would mean, physically altering my body, scars, recovery time; but I also considered a lot of the pros including improved posture and confidence. Last June I went to see my family doctor to
finally request a referral to a plastic surgeon for a consultation. In February
I met the plastic surgeon who had to send forms away to insurance, and 6 weeks
later I was told I had been approved- I could have the surgery.
My esteem has really suffered because of how large they
actually got, I became known as the girl with the big boobs, as if they were my
only defining feature. (A friend actually told a guy that he had to meet me
because of my chest) while that can be a little flattering, it was also very
hurtful, I know I have more to offer than just a big chest, I’m intelligent,
I’m friendly, I’m hardworking, I’m passionate, I love books and movies and
watching live sports events; but the summary was about the one physical aspect
I was the least comfortable with.
Now it is the night before my surgery, where tomorrow
morning I will trust a doctor to cut away pounds (yes pounds) of fat from
chest, so that I can start becoming comfortable in my body. Besides being comfortable, I am excited to be
able to do a whole bunch of dishes without my back getting sore, I am excited
to go into a La Senza and buy bras that are pretty (and not have to ask my
parents for a small fortune for one) I cannot wait to buy new clothes to show
my new confidence, and to stop slouching and not always have my arms crossed
(it kind of makes me look grouchy).
