Perusing through old photos tonight trying to delete un neecessary media to make room for new shit (‘cause more iCloud space? Fuck that!).
I ran across this photo and sat for a moment, finding myself a little upset..
I remember taking this picture. I was fucking proud of my body and thought: this is good for me. Lean enough, enjoying food, life, etc.
My flat chest never bothered me (unless a lover or anyone at a bodybuilding show saw it while getting my spray tan). I liked my athletic look, striations in my pecs and how it aided in the lean look. I realize now that the size of my chest doesn’t determine how feminine I look. With implants I am still called ‘too big’, ‘gross’, ‘manly’ by those who I couldn’t give two shits about their opinion.
What got me choked up:
I wasn’t honest with myself. I wasn’t honest with my Plastic Surgeon. Had I been really honest, I would have known that I was happy without implants. What I didn’t like about my chest wasn’t going to be fixed with making my chest more obnoxious. A simple lift would have been perfectly fine and some resizing of specific structures. But I couldn’t be honest with myself. I couldn’t say that. Because I thought I wanted implants.
To be honest, I think anytime we change our body, we think we have to do it big and great (#weightloss #getswole #plasticsurgery). In reality, small, simple and realistic changes make the biggest impact. *Small Hinges Swing Big Doors*
I should have really been honest with myself about what I needed or wanted and what I didn’t like about my chest. I nursed two baby boys and just didn’t like how ‘saggy’ I had gotten. Couple that with pregnancy weight gain and fast weight loss – things got pretty lax.
I didn’t care about being bigger – but I didn’t know I didn’t care or how to say that. I did my research on implants and went into the consultation with my PS and knew what I “wanted”. But I really should have gone into my doctor’s office and said: this is what I don’t like. What are my options? Truly discussing and being open minded to other options instead of the option I THOUGHT I had to have.
No, I’m not beating myself up over it now. I have nothing to feel guilty about – this is life. Live and learn. You don’t know what you don’t know.
But realizing how dishonest I was with myself hurt. Especially because I have hidden myself a vast majority of my life. Letting things slide because standing up for myself seemed daunting. Procrastinating because I just couldn’t imagine being successful, “going with the flow” because a fight just wasn’t worth it. I’ve been the proverbial doormat and realizing that I kept that trend going when I saw this picture was oddly freeing. Mainly because letting myself know that I can change it – even my boobs. I can change it, start being brutally honest and set boundaries like a motherfucker WITH MYSELF.
This procedure was supposed to OPEN doors for me and yet it’s ended up closing off quite a bit (clothing options, training abilities, now a second surgery, financial stress, etc).
The honesty you show yourself is life changing. Show it to yourself before you have to learn a lesson about being honest with yourself.
Being honest with yourself and truly honest with your wants/needs/feels/likes/dislikes is taking a huge step in getting what you want/need.
I’m oddly excited to go back to a flat chest. I, frankly, don’t really like having implants after realizing (regardless of other issues) I don’t need them – I’m realizing perfection is a lie. I am not and won’t ever be perfect. But maybe that’s the perfection in it?