The year 2004 was a big one for me. I was in the fourth grade and it was my last year being a cute kid before I fully surrendered to my awkward stage. It was also the year my mom and I went to the mall in search of my first bra. I couldn’t wait. In my eyes that meant I was practically all grown up! Ah yes of course, because everyone knows adulthood truly begins when you buy your first bra at Limited Too…
But a lot has changed since then. Year after year, my boobs kept growing, and growing, and growing. I ended up moving up a full cup size every year until college. So if you do the math, that’s pretty big, and realistically too big for comfort. The excitement I once felt about my changing body was now replaced with disheartening reluctance and shame.
Guys love them and girls want them. However, the women that actually have them are the ones wishing they didn’t.
In our cleavage-obsessed society, having a big chest isn’t as glamorous as it seems. Rappers aren’t going to write songs about you and you’re certainly not going to be on the cover of Sports Illustrated. You’re going to be living a normal life, doing normal things like any normal person would. However, the simple things that are easy for everybody else are likely the things you dread the most. Working out? Forget it. Shopping? Yeah right. Going down the stairs? You’d better hold those girls tight.
And not to mention the feeling of being in constant discomfort. It’s like having two giant watermelons strapped to your chest 24/7. At the end of a long day, my body feels like it went through war. My shoulders, my back, my hips, everything hurts and everything is tired.
In the back of my head, I always wonder what it would be like if my boobs were suddenly smaller. How would I feel? What would I wear? What would I be able to do? But it’s always just a fantasy. My boobs are my boobs, they’re not going to magically disappear.
But I’m tired of being tired. I’ve had enough. I’m done with daunting days in the dressing room. I’m done with painful sessions on the treadmill. I’m done buying bras big enough to cover my entire face. I’m done looking down at myself and feeling sad.
I came to the realization this summer that I wanted a breast reduction. I realized this problem I had wasn’t going away on its own, no matter how I much I wished it would. I realized I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life hating something about myself that was beyond my control.
After much deliberation, my parents and I agreed that breast reduction surgery would be the best solution to my problem. So we went ahead and scheduled the procedure for this Winter Break. This is happening. This is real. I’m not just dreaming anymore.
And suddenly I’m back in the fourth grade, filled with hope, optimism, and excitement. I look forward to wearing backless shirts, workout tops, and bras made for people my own age. I look forward to pain-free days sitting at my desk and doing homework. I look forward to looking in the mirror and actually liking what I see. And most of all, I look forward to finally feeling like the person I always wanted to be.
So if you’re sick of being weighed down by the size of your chest, breast reduction surgery is probably the right fit for you. I mean, there’s no harm in a little self-improvement, especially if it’s at the expense of your happiness.