I have new breasts.
I’m coming out of a two month haze of post-surgery recovery to discover a new me. I didn’t hate my breasts before. I liked my body, but I just never felt RIGHT. It’s difficult to articulate the unhappiness I felt living with the vague dis-ease of shame/discomfort/awkwardness while embodied. I didn’t fully recognize the weight of living with those feelings until I changed my body to fit my inner self-image. All of the wrong stories I’ve told myself about my body are simply falling away, leaving…me.
I carry myself differently after breast reduction surgery. I feel lighter, more confident. I am totally distracted by my new shape, running my fingers over my curves and scars, marveling at the wide gap between my compact breasts, loving my smaller areolas. I am absorbed in relearning myself, discovering that one of my nipples is so sensitive I almost orgasm with a light touch and the other hardly feels anything at all. It’s all new.
My self image has totally shifted. I am seeing myself as more athletic. I’m working on getting the rest of my body in line with this vision. Contrary to what I expected, having smaller breasts is making me feel more feminine. I am filled with a new reverence for my body. This experience is liberating. Anything is possible.
It’s been a challenge to get to this place of joy. Reduction surgery has been a bit of an ordeal for me. I wasn’t 100% signed up for it, but I did it anyway. It’s very weird to wake up knowing that a visible part of your body has been removed or reduced. It’s been uncomfortable dealing with pain and physical limitations. I have found this process to be as much emotional and spiritual as physical. The journey has been unexpected, perhaps a sort of coming-of-age, like puberty.
Making love in this place is sweet, all urgency and explorations. I was relieved to still feel desire. At first we were scared to fuck, imagining my breasts like a molded Jell-O desert that’s been shaken too much. Mutual masturbation helped us to find our connection. I received reassurance that my body was still beautiful even with 40 inches of stitches. My longing for intimate touch took us deep. We remembered how to make out, gazing into each others eyes while sharing breath. Finding myself anew means that our love is also transformed.
It’s not all that woo-woo though. Sometimes I am totally shallow. I spend more time in front of the mirror. I change my clothes ten times every morning. I dream about the clothes I will be able to wear now. I bought a bikini off the rack for the first time since high school and I plan to wear it!
I cannot describe my joy at starting to feel right in my body. Yes, this has cost me money and time and pain for an outcome I was unsure of. For a long time I was afraid to take the risk or put the energy into it. But if you’ve ever wished that you could change something about your body because it’s keeping you from being who you see yourself to be, then you will understand when I say that it’s worth it. I am not yet where I want to be, but this ability to reimagine myself is one of the most powerful forces in my life. And I have new breasts!