For the first few weeks of recovery, my breasts were bruised purple and yellow, and I wore a compression bandage to help ease the swelling. I anticipated complications, but save for a couple of stitches breaking open and eventually closing on their own, there were none.
As my skin rejoined itself like tectonic plates meeting and making mountains, some of the scars grew spindly and — as my friend had mercifully warned me — I did feel ugly for some time.
But my lollipop-shaped scars faded rapidly, the skin piecing itself back together as if by magic. Six weeks after my surgery, I discovered I could exercise so much more freely. I could buy and wear clothing without having to plan my outfits around my bras and my breasts. I bought swimsuits and lingerie that fit right off the rack and made me feel sexy and confident in my own skin. I felt utterly, blissfully free.
In retrospect, I wish my pain had been taken more seriously, and my surgery considered medically necessary. But I feel grateful that I had the financial means to act when I did, and that paying for my surgery out of pocket enabled me to choose exactly the doctor, date, and surgery plan that I wanted. With a family history of breast cancer — my mother having entered remission only a few years prior — I felt that time was of the essence in prioritizing my health. And when one hospital staff member after another, upon seeing that I was choosing to undergo a reduction at 27, congratulated me on my decision, recounting stories of women twice my age who lamented waiting so long, I knew the timing was exactly right.
It still feels a bit surreal that one of the biggest hurdles in my life to date has finally been overcome. Contact Olivia Niland at olivia.
Got a confidential tip? Submit it here. A BuzzFeed News investigation, in partnership with the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists, based on thousands of documents the government didn't want you to see.
Thoka Maer for BuzzFeed News. I put myself on OKCupid and other dating sites, hoping to meet someone when I moved off campus. My friends all encouraged me. So why did I end up using pictures of myself from before my breast reduction? I knew I looked great now, but my breasts felt like such a big part of my identity that I could not bring myself to just post a headshot or a more recent photo.
This resulted in an awkward moment at the beginning of each date as I'd watch the guy take me in and try to figure out if I matched my photo or not. The great part was, though, that a few of these dates ended up being exactly what I needed to realize that my boobs now and then do not define me. It wasn't about men confirming that I looked awesome post-surgery — it was about me realizing how little anyone's opinion of me really mattered outside of the college bubble that had judged me so harshly.
I soon changed my dating profile picture to a more accurate reflection of what I looked like and found that almost nothing in my new dating life changed. It's been two years since I left college. I love dating and meeting new people. I almost never mention what an internal struggle my breast reduction has been. It's easy, now that I am so far removed from it, to say that I was being silly and should have just owned my new body and not cared what anyone thought.
But I know that my fears were not illegitimate. Such stigma surrounds women changing their bodies — whether by surgery or even just naturally gaining or losing weight, as any tabloid will tell you. I learned first-hand how the stigma effects women who undergo elective surgery. People look at you differently and swear up and down that it's not something they would ever do themselves.
For me, though, my breasts were not only a source of embarrassment and discomfort, they were also a problem that needed to be solved. And surgery was the solution. I spent one night in the hospital, then returned to the apartment I shared with my soon-to-be husband, where I recovered quickly. The pain was manageable. And a month after the surgery, I began what I now think of as my honeymoon phase. I wore tank tops and camisoles around town, the kinds of shirts that before might have gotten me arrested.
I went jogging with a single sports bra instead of my usual trio. At night, in the bathtub, I lay for an hour, watching them float, feeling their lightness, experiencing what I can only describe as an almost religious elation at my new form, at these things that were now a part of me, these delicate, dainty, light-as-feathers breasts.
For the next several years, I relished the change. I was able to nurse, though not well or easily, not without near-constant pumping to keep up my milk supply. I was able to find clothes that fit and to exercise, and to wear a bathing suit that looked like a bathing suit. I even became a sort of breast-reduction proselytizer to any big-chested friend I made.
But then, as I entered my 30s, something strange happened. Outline why you want this surgery and how you picture your life, including your daily activities, exercise routine, parenting duties, and social life, post-surgery. Lastly, listen to your surgeon. While the final decision will always be up to you as the patient, an experienced surgeon like Dr. Lawton can give you an honest assessment of the results before you go under the knife.
Give us a call today to address all your questions and concerns about this life-changing procedure! Tenley Lawton, M. Lawton strives to provide the best experience for everyone who chooses her practice for their aesthetic needs. Lawton and her team of expert providers. Lawton M. About DR.
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