But they LOOK fantastic…

January 15, 2008

So I had sex last weekend for the first time since I had the surgery. Thank God, because I hadn’t had sex in four months, which is just too long a time with no sex in it.
Anyway it was with this guy…who we’ll call Jack…..that I’ve liked for a while. And he’s liked me for a while and we were building it up and sending steamy texts…and we’ve gone out casually a few times, usually with other people, and kissed and fumbled.
So finally we decided we’d go out and see what happened. A non-date, because I made him meet me late– outside date time. I hate dates, they’re like job interviews, except you don’t have the bonus of getting a salary at the end.
So we went out and ended up back in his place.
(Incidentally, it’s hard figuring out what to wear when you know you’re simply meeting someone for sex. A coat with nothing underneath? Not in Ireland, your body parts would freeze and then snap off. Jeans and a t-shirt? Slightly boring. I mean, you want to have no fuss, easily removable clothes…which rules out socks, skinny jeans, tights…In the end I wore black trousers, slip on flats and a vest….IN WINTER I wore this. Like a complete fucking idiot. The minute I got outside I regretted it….it was about minus 5 degrees!)
ANYway, sorry. So we went back to his place and it began. He knew about the boobs, I told him a few weeks ago. He was also pretty cool about it. I do believe most guys–who were attracted to you in the first place–will be excited about your new boobs. Guys who say they don’t like the idea are LYING. Men are programmed to like breasts–and the ones (who have already attacked me on this blog) who say fake breasts feel shit and look shit don’t know what they are talking about, and are probably virgins.
Jack, in any case, thought they were the best things ever. I won’t go into the sex details (although I will say that it didn’t really happen the first time, due to the amount of alcohol consumed, so at 4am we did it again and it was fantastic) but at one point, I noticed he was in a position where, if he looked up, he would be face to face with the scars…and I laughed and said, they’re not finished yet! And he said, listen, I don’t give a shit about scars. Turns out a lot of squeezing and rubbing doesn’t hurt, for those who wanted to know.
So I asked him, the next day, for the verdict, and he said again that they look amazing. He actually couldn’t stop touching them…I was like, listen they’re not THAT great–yet—because they’re not fully soft and all that jazz. But apparently, it’s how they look more than how they feel…at least for this guy.
I can’t decide which of us is more caught up with appearances…

So, I’ve reached six weeks post-op and I’m feeling great. FUCK YES. I remember how worried I was before my surgery and wish I could go back and tell myself to calm down and stop worrying. I really must be a textbook case, because I’ve had no problems at all with the boobs. They’ve dropped almost completely into my natural shape and look identical to how they did before my surgery, just fuller and bigger. Still not really completely soft, but I know that takes months.
The scars are still visible but I’m using Bio Oil on them every day and will let you know if it does improve the appearance. I do think they’re slightly less red already.
But don’t use stuff like this on scars that are not fully closed or healed.

I have, however, reached the point where I THINK people close to me are noticing. Don’t know if I’m just paranoid, or they have noticed. I only told my family and my really close friends, oh and that guy I had sex with a few years ago (but that’s because he of course noticed straight away).
My other friends are definitely noticing, not really when I see them, but when they look at photos of me, it’s really obvious.
But what they are thinking is NOT that I’ve had a boob job, but that I look like I’ve naturally gotten bigger.
One girl I know (and don’t like) actually came out and asked me if I had a boob job–I just laughed and mentioned they’ve gotten bigger because I switched birth control pills….

But (and because people keep asking me) unless you go up to a triple D or something, NO ONE will notice, unless you tell them. I seriously doubted this before my surgery but now I know, from my own experience…the one or two people who asked if I had a boob job are people I don’t care about and they were even only saying it jokingly…no one in work has noticed, no one I casually hang out with, my best friend hasn’t even noticed…or if she has, she hasn’t said anything.

Some advice: if you don’t want people to know you got it done, gradually increase the size of your breasts before your surgery, using padding, those chicken fillet things, whatever you have. I did this for two months before my op and it was a great idea–no one in work has noticed at all.

I hope this doesn’t all sound hypocritical–since I’ve said I don’t like when people deny they’ve had surgery–but I tell the people important to me, not people I KNOW will think differently of me and give me shit about it, unless I have to. Not worth the hassle.

Get over it

January 8, 2008

cwln446l.jpg

OK, lets get it out in the open, once and for all, and then lock it forever in a fucking safe and bury the key.
By ‘it’ I mean the dated, boring, insulting and highly annoying perception of women who have their breasts surgically enlarged.
When people say to me “What are the drawbacks of having a boob job?” I don’t say the pain or the nuisance of the whole thing. I say, “Well, it means people think that when the implant goes in, my intelligence goes out and I’m on the phone to a brothel begging for a job.”
Even the idea that all women who work in a brothel, or in the porn industry, are fucking idiots pisses me off.
We’re all going to be judged for our decision, girls. There will always be someone who looks down on you for something that is none of their damn business. So instead of getting angry (which I do, all the time) we are going to ignore it and be the generation of women who prove that having a boob job is not a synonym for: low intelligence, severe mental problems, no love life to speak of, a desire to have sex all the time, a desire to get paid for having sex, a desire to be seen as fluffy and stupid, or wanting excess male attention.
If you’ve got a problem with the idea, stop reading the fucking blog.

Did I really think that?

January 6, 2008

The other day I had a rare insight into how I used to think of myself, and more importantly how other people think of me. Well, used to think of me. I knew I was unhappy with my chest size but I didn’t know I projected this unhappiness like an aura, making me self-conscious and making any guys I was with feel uncomfortable.
I was talking to a friend of mine who I used to work with, and who I used to have kissing sessions with too, which one night turned into sex on the sitting room floor of his apartment. This was about two years ago, or more. I really liked him at the time but the shadow of the small breasted girl’s enemy–The Girl With Bigger Boobs–hung over me like a cloud.We were having drinks Thursday night talking about our ill-fated hook up (he was seeing someone else at the time–yet another sign of my lack of confidence–going for men I knew wouldn’t be able to be with me properly) and we were laughing at the drunken mess we were that night. I told him about my boob job and he was cool about it, saying good for you etc.
Then he reminded me of a conversation we had once where we were kissing in some bar in town and he was trying to feel my boobs. I would always immediately tense up when this happened, although this particular time I didn’t. But the other day he told me that after he had put his hand up my top I said “Do you hate me now?”

Christ. I don’t remember being that bad. I don’t remember saying it, but obviously I did. It’s kind of pathetic but also an excellent insight into how I felt about myself. That’s why it didn’t work between us, I was too crippled with insecurity. Oh and, he had a girlfriend.

It’s amazing how much better I feel about myself now, I know I keep saying it, but it’s true. ANYONE with an insecurity, and everyone has them, will feel better when they consciously go and do something about it. I am not saying that a woman’s happiness depends on her breast size, I’m saying MY happiness was blocked by my own warped view of myself–so I changed it.

Also I still do mostly forget I had it done. I have no pain apart from an occasional and mild muscle twinge, the scars are starting to improve, and they have dropped slightly already. As for softness, the outside of each one is really much softer than the insides, but they will get softer I know. When I lie down, they are harder.

But anyway imagine saying that or thinking that…that a guy who obviously liked me enough to be with me in the first place would go off me because I had no boobs. I was convinced of this for so long…Now if a guy goes off me, at least I know it’s not because I look shit in a nice bra 🙂

I got into a spirited discussion about breast implants (a short one) last week with a nice man called David who writes on this blog.
Obviously I am coming at this from a biased POV, seeing that I am a proud owner of said breast implants. I enjoy talking about and defending breast augmentation. So there I was, listing my reasons why it is harmless, and positive, when I realise there really is no point arguing with someone who is religious. Or possibly a bit mad. And who seems to have a weird hatred of women who have boob jobs. AND who sadly seems to believe that all women with fake breasts are stupid.

Here is what David is saying to me…

“Yes, purchasing breasts merely because you don’t like yours is a waste of time, effort, money and it corrupts the modern spirit of all ancient souls.

Fake breasts are not breasts. They are bags of silicone or saline pretending to be something they are not. Their job is to mock and fool the beauty of the gods and we’ll have none of that supported on this blog.

Is it meant to be funny? I don’t get it. I mean, what??

I would hereby like to offer my most heartfelt apologies to all ancient souls, for corrupting your modern spirit by choosing to have breast surgery. My evil decision is ruining the very fabric of our society and will no doubt result in a collapse in the space time continium that not even Doc Brown will be able to fix.

???

P.S I’m doing great, for those who asked. I’ve had more droppage and softening in the last week. Think I’m a textbook case though, have had very little problems with them. Yay! I have an appointment with my surgeon in a few days so will post back then.
That’s if I haven’t been killed by the gods.

“Does feminist mean a large unpleasant person who’ll shout at you or someone who believes women are human beings? To me it’s the latter, so I sign up.” — Margaret Atwood

One day over Christmas I was talking to my aunt, who expressed surprise I had had breast surgery, since she “thought I was a feminist”. I asked her what she meant by feminist, and she said, “Well don’t feminists think breast implants are a form of female mutilation with the end goal of pleasing men and fitting into their ideals of women?” I agreed that some people do hold this view, but that clearly, I am not one of them. And yes, I am a feminist, if feminism means equality for women and fighting for (and celebrating) our right to choose after centuries of oppression.

I was interested in what my aunt said because it’s not the first time I’ve heard it. Of course, I respect other people’s opinions and to be honest, I don’t care if people judge me for my choices, although I see that my defending them vigourously seems like I do…but I just wanted to point some things out.

If you agree with the general principle of people’s (not just women’s) right to choose what to do with their own body then you would agree that breast surgery should be as accessible and popular as it is. You may not personally understand why women do it, but unless you are a woman with little or no self-esteem then how would you understand? Self-esteem is tied to different things for different people–some men have no confidence because they have a small penis, some women suffered years of comments about having small boobs, some people feel weird about a big nose or massive feet. I’m no psychologist, but it’s pretty obvious that if any of these things can be altered, it will make a huge difference to someone’s life. Why is that wrong? So what if someone wants to risk surgery and spend money to feel good? Is it jealousy that makes people resent it?

It’s a safe procedure, when done by the right surgeon. Which thankfully most of them are. The risks are for the individual woman to sort through. So what’s left is the tangled feminism argument, which basically says that women who have breast implants are doing it so men will think they look good, or so they fit into society’s warped ‘ideal woman’ mode. What bollocks. Why should men take the credit for women’s self-image? If we see a woman who looks great and has made an effort to feel good and look great, why can’t we accept she did it for herself and not for some man? THAT is sexism, people, a historical stereotype that still lingers on every woman alive. If a girl dresses in a fabulous dress and six inch shoes and gets her hair done, men assume (sorry, some men) she did it for male approval. We all know that women dress to impress other women, since a. most men don’t give a shit about what’s fashionable and b. a lot of women are veerrry competitive. And of course there are women who dress to impress men, but so what? Should we all be labelled as continuous men pleasers because we want to feel good about ourselves?

Another common argument from those who oppose breast implants, after the safety and sexist arguments are dealt with, is that breast augmentation should be reserved for women who have had the traumatic experience of breast cancer or are similary disfigured. I have obviously not had breast cancer and won’t try imagine the pain and suffering these women go through and I’m not comparing my life with those of cancer victims. But breast surgery is an elective procedure done by choice, is it not a medical neccessity. For anyone. A woman who chooses to have breast implants put in after breast cancer surgery is doing it for the same reasons as a woman with tiny, or no, breasts. Those reasons are for a personal desire for self-confidence and self-esteem, to regain and to have what they believe is and should be their natural right. They, we, do it because they want to look different. Again, someone with breast cancer is of course different to your average plastic surgery patient and I am not taking away from their suffering. But saying breast implants are only OK for women emotionally scarred because of cancer is a flawed argument.

Women who already have big boobs, and have surgery for their own personal reasons–be it their job, because they’ve always wanted bigger boobs–may be coming from a different place but have just as much right. We all have the right to choose. So make your choice and hold your head up high.

One month post-op

December 24, 2007

I made it! Exactly one month ago I was pretty miserable and in stiff, hunch-backed pain. It feels weird when I remember it now, like it didn’t happen. I swear sometimes I forget I actually had surgery, had a boob job. I feel no pain, they have dropped slightly already, and continue to soften up, despite the fact I’m not massaging as much as I should, and that I’ve worn underwire…ahem.

Last night I was joining John Lennon in thinking another year over, and what have I done? I was getting pretty miserable about it–still in the same job that I hate, living in the same place, still boyfriendless…I thought to myself, God I haven’t done much this year. Then I looked down and remembered that I actually DID do something this year, something I’ve been wanting for a long, long time, something that has made me happier…and boy, was it worth it. So if your surgery is looming, take a deep breath, focus on the end result, and just ride through it. Good luck to you, if you are getting it done. It’s one of the best things I ever did.

 Oh, and Merry Christmas 🙂

Breaking rule number one

December 18, 2007

Tonight is my work Christmas party…and believe me, it is HARD to find a nice top/dress to wear that looks good with the unpadded, nipple revealing, comfy bras. So just for today and tonight, I’m wearing my lovely H&M underwired, push up black bra because really, I have to look good tonight. The temptation was too much for me. This is possibly bad because the pressure from the bra might affect my implants or scars. I know this and yet here I am, still wearing the bra…does this mean I am really vain? I think so.
It doesn’t hurt or anything…and it’s four weeks since the surgery this Friday. So I’m hoping this doesn’t harm me. If it does, let this blog post be a testament to my possible stupidity…

EDIT: Almost a month since I wrote this post, and I’ve been wearing underwire on and off since then. So basically, I was wearing underwired bras from one month after surgery on– and there has been no damage that I can see. Or feel. They’re completely fine, and also some surgeons tell their patients they can wear underwire after a week– I really must find out why plastic surgeons have such different advice for the same procedure…

Here’s Johnny!

December 14, 2007

This has absolutely nothing to do with breast implants, or surgery, or anything really…but I found this picture and it’s just too yummy to NOT post on here.
So Happy Christmas!

Johnny

Because we’re worth it

December 14, 2007

Last night I went Christmas shopping, and in the usual tradition of me, ended up buying more stuff for myself than for anyone else. I went into Marks and Spencer and got sucked into buying loads of lovely bras just because I could.
I used to hate bra buying before, it was more damage control than joyous lingerie gathering. I would buy the one that I thought would make me look bigger (most padding) and ones that I thought would give me more cleavage, and they NEVER really did. I spent loads on Wonderbras, on Calvin Klein bras…none of which fit me now of course. But now, I can choose any bra in my faaaabulous 34C size and I know I’ll look good in it. I bought five bras last night…one is a gorgeous padded push up one from M&S and I couldn’t wait to get home and try it on. It looked brilliant on me–I have cleavage and shape and fullness and when I put on a lovely blue dress I could never wear before…I wanted to go out in it there and then!
(I know I’m not supposed to be wearing underwire yet– but trying them on can’t hurt, can it?)
Anyway I should have taken a pic. I was so excited. It probably sounds stupid but when you spend years looking at yourself in the mirror and then trying to hide/change what you see, and then that change happens, it’s an amazing feeling…and it’s all been worth it. The pain, the discomfort, the worry, the money….ALL of it. I would go through it again tomorrow. And even if something did go wrong, I’d do whatever I could to fix it and keep my implants.