I'm not sure whether it's the human condition in general to always want something better or something other than what we have, or if it's the message society has drilled into our brains since we first started being subjected to the media's version of what is "normal". Either way, I've blogged before (here) about my experience with weight loss surgery and the ups and downs that come with it. I'm three years out from my surgery now, and my weight is every bit as much as a battle now as it was before the surgery.
I've often wondered what exactly has made my weight such a major issue in my life. If I weren't barraged with images of size zeros and made to feel guilty for eating carbs, would I feel so negatively about my weight? If my weight weren't a reason for ostracizing me and isolation was not a result of my weight, would I feel differently about myself? Is the way I feel about my weight truly my issue with my weight, or is the issue that which society tells me it should be?
The answer is both. I feel negatively about myself and my weight both because I don't feel like I fit the mold for what is "normal" or "okay", but I also take issue with my weight because of the way it affects me physically. Being overweight is painful both emotionally and physically, and I hate the feelings of being out of breath, aching joints and the discomfort of clothing that doesn't fit. Weight loss surgery helped me in so many areas, and completely cleared up many of the issues I had that were justification for the surgery. But one significant area has actually worsened because of my rapid and significant weight loss - my chest size. Yes, I'm talking about my breasts.
My breast size has been an issue since childhood. I began wearing a bra in 2nd grade, which means that by 8 years of age I was already sporting support for the "girls". I'm sure I probably had a training bra at that early point, but I really don't remember it. If I did have one, it probably became completely inept at doing its job rather early on. In fifth grade I became extremely self-conscious of my breast size due to a couple of experiences. For one, I was playing volleyball, and sports of any kind become a bit more challenging when one is trying to keep everything in place. Other girls made fun of me and accused me of "stuffing" my bra to enhance what nature gave me - which totally makes me laugh, now, because I would have given anything to look like everyone else and just blend in. I have trouble holding my arms in the correct position for volleyball due to my chest size - an issue I still have anytime I'm trying to golf or cross my arms in any way in front of my chest.
Puberty is hell on anyone, and the weight increase I experienced at that time only served to add to my bra size as well. Boys teased, girls were haughty with disgust at my "showing off", and I was just plain miserable. I remember a feeble attempt at duct taping across my chest at some point in junior high, trying to flatten myself. While every other girl on the planet (it seemed), would love to have breasts, I was envious of the flat chested girls.
Beyond high school, and away from the experienced and imagined ridicule for my size in general, I became slightly more accepting of my size. Accepting isn't really the word, though. I became resigned to being the way I was. I just figured that's how it would always be, since countless attempts at diets and weight loss had only left me feeling even worse about myself.
Fast forward to late 2009 and my gastric bypass had helped me shed almost 100 pounds. I was a new woman. I didn't love my body, but I loved my size - a 10-12. I couldn't even remember being that small ever. I was fairly content with the results I had as far as what I looked like when clothed. And as for being unclothed, well, let's just say that rapid and dramatic weight loss leaves your body looking a bit saggy, droopy, stretched and, in general, like someone much older. I could live with that, though, because, fortunately (for me, AND you), most of my time is spent clothed.
While my clothing sizes shrunk, my bra size changed little. In fact, my cup size didn't change at all, because the excess skin I had now as a result of the weight loss took up as much space as the fat had beforehand. I have long had to shop at specialty (read: expensive) stores to find adequately sized bras. I have to find swimming suits that are in two pieces, because I need a much bigger fit at the top than at the bottoms. I can't find button up shirts that I can actually button, or if I do they gap so bad between the buttons that I can't wear them that way. I end up wearing layers - even in summer, to try to reign in the girls. And they get HOT - so uncomfortable in summer!
Then there is the issue of back and shoulder and neck pain. I am a short gal - 4'11" - and my short torso does not adequately provide the necessary support for a chest of my ample size. This creates strain on my spine, neck and shoulders. I have grooves in my shoulders from the straps of my bra that are weighed down with the weig
ht of my chest. Finding dresses or one piece garments is almost impossible because the chest size is never adequate.
A large chest is not conducive to hiding from the world, which is my preference the majority of the time. It's uncomfortable physically, but emotionally as well. I have confidence issues and would likely criticize myself even if I had a dream body, but the fact is I will never have a dream body. I have what I have.
I do have some options available to me to minimize some of the negative affects of my chest size, and so I've opted to have a breast reduction surgery.
To be continued....
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