Breast Reduction Surgery | One Year Later

In the early hours of September 14, 2020, I sat nervously at home, waiting for my dad to pick me up and take me to a local surgery centre. Thanks to a cancellation, I was scheduled to undergo breast reduction surgery that morning, months ahead of schedule.

At 5:45 am on Tuesday, September 14, 2021, my alarm went off like it does every other day. I spent the hour before work on a HIIT workout that included power jacks, jump squats, broad jumps and various other forms of personal torture intense physical exercise.

What a difference a year makes.

When I look in the mirror now, I rarely stop to contemplate the fact that this version of my body is only a year old. Mostly, it feels like this is the way my body has always been. Because, for me, it feels like this is how my body was meant to be. Occasionnally, I spot an old photo of myself and the memory of years spent trying to hide my bust size comes flooding back. But those memories are accompanied by a sense of gratitude, rather than regret. It doesn’t matter how long I waited to get the breast reduction that completely altered how I feel in my body. The point is that I got it, in the end. And every minute that I get to live in this version of my body is a gift.

Some of the changes I’ve experienced in the past year are very real and tangible. Those powerjacks and jump squats that I suffer through in the morning, for one. I could have done them, before surgery. But they would have been awkward and painful. No sports bra available was up to that challenge or could truly have offered enough support to change that. Even if I’d found one, the exercise of putting it on and essentially battening myself down to do normal physical activity would have been an exercise in personal humiliation that I simply couldn’t stomach on a daily basis. So I adjusted, subconsciously, not truly realising just how much I missed out on.

I see it, now. The same way I see it when I open my lingerie drawer. I own more bras than I did over the last ten years combined. This despite the fact that I don’t actually need one anymore. The act of shopping for them, of treating myself to a beautiful and special garment, is a pleasure in my post-surgery life. I don’t have to do it; I get to. It’s emotional, making the conscious choice to do something that was once a disheartening obligation for the first time. But in the best possible way.

For so long, every time I looked in the mirror, every time I looked a picture of myself, my breasts were all I could see. And they were an image that brought me nothing but anguish. It’s shocking, as time passes, to recognise with increasing clarity just how much that anguish distorted my perception of myself. Not to mention how significant the impact of that distorted perception was on me and on my life. It affected so many of the choices I made, and it’s startling to think just how much of my life might have gone differently if I’d felt more comfortable in my own skin.

“There is no place that does not see you. You must change your life.”
– Rainer Maria Rilke

And more importantly, you must understand that change, no matter how difficult or uncomfortable, is worthwhile – often in ways you can’t fully understand until you change. I spent a lifetime feeling bad about my body, convinced that was a feeling I needed to learn to live. The possibility of making a change, particularly a surgical change, seemed so extreme as to almost be unfathomable. I don’t regret waiting. Every day since my breast reduction is one I’m grateful to have been able to live. But I also know that if I’d gone ahead ten years sooner, I would have lived ten happier years. The lesson in that is not lost on me.

My body, and my lived experience in it, as well as my experience with breast reduction surgery, are uniquely my own. What I lived, no one else will live in exactly the same way. But a year later, I feel absolutely certain that, faced with a similar choice again, I wouldn’t hesitate to take the leap.

If you’re contemplating something similar, you can read more about the practical side of my experience here. When I first went for surgery, so many of you came forward with your own stories and struggles. It was touching, and admittedly a bit heartbreaking. Now, like then, if you’re dealing with anything like what I’ve described, don’t hesitate to send me a message. I’m here to empathise and commiserate.