This Mostly Normal Life: The Perfect Pair

I have not written much here about breasts specifically, mostly just in reference my cancer type. I am going to do so a bit in this post. Which is to say, I get a little personal and ramble-y here.

It should come as no surprise to hear me say that I have large breasts. Not even "for my size/frame," but legitimately large. I will admit to feeling some amount of life/the universe's humor when I initially received a breast cancer diagnosis. Like, OF COURSE I HAVE BREAST CANCER WHERE ELSE WOULD IT BE. Ha ha, breasts.

As we wind down the days to my double mastectomy surgery (now scheduled for Friday, April 13th; don't worry, I am not superstitious and instead invite all of the black kitties to cross my path), it is important that I spend time processing what is to come, how my body will be changed, and my emotions surrounding that. It is time to say goodbye to a part of my body that I have been conflicted about since I was around ten years of age.

I know that I am not alone in being a person whose body people felt they had permission to discuss publicly and unkindly. I share my experience as a means to reach out, to connect, and also for my own processing.

Ultimately, my experience of how my body image evolved, coupled with being bullied every day from Pre-K through the end of 5th grade (when I moved out of the school district) and ostracized through my high school years, has led me to be an extraordinarily empathetic human being. I have a sixth sense for how someone is feeling. I am a great listener. I have little tolerance for mean people. I work to call it out when I see it. You might say that my shape has played a large part in shaping who I am.

Unwanted Attention

Developing breasts early was not my choice. That may go without saying to you, but it does in fact need to be said, because with it brings oft-unkind outside observation and unsolicited commentary. This began at the tail end of my time in one very small, rural northwest Minnesota school district; after the 5th grade I moved every year until my high school sophomore year. I mention this because when you begin a new school, you get to deal with the observations, commentary, and face judgment each time afresh as you meet new people and they work to figure out who you are and your place in the social hierarchy of the school. If you are unsure of what I mean by this, I will tell you that (some) people tended to form and share opinions about me and my imagined habits or desires based solely on my body type (plus socioeconomic status). (Suffice to say I fully embraced the grunge and skater era baggy clothes popular during middle school, but it made me angry then as it does now how often young women's bodies are scrutinized, sexualized, and policed.)

Sometimes the comments were cruel, such as the "slut" label. Or the time I found out that I was a member of the "paper bag club," aka someone the popular middle school boys deemed "f&*3-worthy, but only with a paper bag over her head." Other times they were on the more passive-aggressive end (living in the Midwest and all), such as a female high schooler telling the group of males we were hanging out with that her mother told her that at least she won't have saggy breasts when she's older. Or the times I heard someone say, "You just like her because of her big boobs." You get the picture. (NOTE: I share not for pity but because this was my experience, so please do not worry-- I turned out just fine.)

My Body Type

I am short, so it has always seemed to me that my breasts were incongruent with my frame, but doctors have always assured me that I am proportionate. There were several years that I entertained the idea of a breast reduction. I was told that for insurance to cover the procedure, you must experience back pain, which I did not. Many people assume that I do have back pain and have recently said that must be something that I look forward to (diminished back pain), but this has never been an issue for me. So, I guess the docs were right about being proportionate? If you know me well enough, you know that I pined and occasionally obsessed over having smaller breasts. They say the grass is always greener, but I have to tell you that I rarely had anyone actually say that they wanted my size.

Alas, in light of my diagnosis, I must say that one should be careful what they ask for. I GUESS.

The Male Gaze

I'm not going to say much here aside from #tfw you realize that someone is talking to your chest, or brushes your breast "accidentally." Or just touches you when you do not want it FFS. #metoo

The Perfect Breast Size

Sometimes I attempted to gain agency over the topic by serving as instigator, seeking more information (and perhaps some male approval). During a summer internship in DC, I recall a conversation with another intern (white hetero male) during a Metro ride in which I asked him what he thought was the perfect breast size. My intentions were perhaps borderline flirtatious (nothing came of that) but also very much grounded in insecurity; I had just had a serious relationship end badly and I was casting about in the world trying to figure out where I stood with potential love partners. (Read: I was a hot mess.)

He used the back of the Metro seats to show me a scale of breast sizes, from small to very large, and where he pegged me (closer to "very large," maybe at 3/4) and then finally where his personal preference was (closer to "small," at about 1/4). He assured me it was not "bad." We laughed and moved on to the next topic.

I share this only because it has stuck with me so clearly. I know I should not care about what other people think, but that sentiment does not ensure the ability to follow through. I do not fault him; I asked. However, it did feed into my fears and to many years of worrying that I would be crossed off many a "date-able" list due to my large breast size. Am I a freak? I can show you a doctor's note that says that I am proportionate.

Identity & Femininity

I have heard that I should expect to struggle some emotionally with my femininity in light of losing my breasts. Many women do associate their breasts quite directly with femininity. I cannot attest to sharing this feeling, personally, although of course I can understand why. Perhaps I will someday, but I kind of doubt it.
Of course I am not EXCITED about this major surgery, but I am also not particularly sad to see the ladies go; although it is a pretty extreme path to get there. I am in a situation in which I get to pick out my breast size. Suffice to say, they will be smaller. My perfect pair? Maybe. Perfect with scars.

A Proper Good-Bye

I do believe in a proper send-off, however, and I have my dear friend Kate to thank for allowing this to happen. Last fall, Kate gifted me a boudoir photo shoot from Cassidy DuHon Photography after she heard of my diagnosis. The photos are beautiful, and no you cannot see them (but you may check out some of the fierce professional headshots that Cassidy also took, below). THANK YOU, KATE! Love you.