Most of the time, I completely forget I’m flat.
I never wanted reconstruction. I could never have imagined myself with implants. And the other surgery options were off the table for me.
I know it’s an unusual choice. And each to their own. This was what was right for me.
Generally it really doesn’t bother me that I have no breasts. Or even cross my mind. I wear my flat chest with pride.
To me, it’s a sign of strength. A reminder of what I’ve been through - in a good way. I have nothing to hide. I’m proud of my body and what is has overcome.
I want to set an example to my kids that bodies come in all shapes and sizes.
And I am generally a confident person.
But sometimes I wobble.
Once in a while I catch someone staring at my chest.
I can see them trying to work it out. Trying to figure out what my flatness means. Which box to put me in.
Once in a while, I feel self conscious.
It’s harder in the summer to be discreet. In the winter, in a hoody or a jumper, you’d never know. But when it’s hot and everyone’s in holiday mode, it’s sometimes hard to know how to dress.
So this week, I decided to experiment with a slightly padded bikini top that a friend gave me. It’s the first time I’ve worn any kind of padding since I had my surgery over 2 years ago.
It was so weird.
I tried it for a few days.
But I felt even more self conscious. So I’ve gone back to just being flat. I didn’t feel like me. I felt fake. I felt like i was pretending to be someone I’m not.
Both my kids commented about my new top. They’re too young to really understand but they both noticed a difference.
Which in itself made me feel weird.
That I was sending them a mixed message about body norms.
It’s been a strange experience. Catching myself in the mirror, looking like I had breasts again was just so surreal.
I definitely wasn’t expecting to have such a strong reaction to having a little bit of fake boob - just from wearing a little bikini top, less than an A cup.
I guess I’ll try it again another time. I still quite like the idea. Maybe I need to practice.
I guess that means that I really have moved on and can’t ever go back to the ‘old’ me.
It’s a good thing!