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[01 Oct 2006|08:11am] |
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Yeah, I know it's selfish and trivial and superficial... but if people only knew how much it affects my perception of my femininity, they'd maybe be able to understand better. People put so much emphasis on breasts, and they're such an innate part of a woman's sexuality, that it's hard to feel just as sexy as before now that they've been sliced through and are misshapen and deformed.
Maybe the reconstructive surgery will help restore my confidence in my booby-beauty, but I'm so terrified to have another surgery -- even one I want -- that I keep putting it off. So I keep staring at my chest in the mirror and bite back tears that I hate myself for (because I know how dumb it is to be upset about the appearance of my breasts when I'm freaking ALIVE), all because I can still remember what it was like to have creamy white, beautiful, near-flawless breasts that other girls envied and that I knew would drive men crazy if I ever chose to flaunt them.
Agh, it's just so ridiculously stupid. Hopefully it doesn't mean I'm a bad person just because I struggle with being grateful for what I do have sometimes. I try; I really do. I mean, I think of all the women who've had to have mastectamies, and how many of them would kill just to HAVE breasts again... and I feel like scum for not appreciating what I have left, ugly or not.
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[01 Oct 2006|10:03pm] |
My apologies to whomever I stole this picture from.
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