Jan 25, 2013

Rotting grapefruit and tshirts (FBtF)

Is it wrong that I don't want pink ribbons? Is it wrong that I don't want to whine and bitch and moan about this? Is it wrong that i'm more pissed off and irritated than sad and forlorn? I think a lot about this...particularly, when lying in bed at night.

I've come to the random conclusion that I don't want pink ribbons because I don't identify with that. I, personally, tie the 'pink ribbon' image to a woman who has had to battle cancer--hard. One who has gone through chemo and lost all her hair and all her strength. Not me--who has gotten her boobs cut off and was delivered the amazing news that "That's it! All the cancer's gone!" Yes, i realize that cancer is cancer. Breast cancer is breast cancer. I would've had to have gone through chemo and/or radiation if I would have waited just 'that much' longer.

I also don't want people to see me as that. I don't want people to feel sorry for me, take pity on me... But then I realize i could use that pink ribbon. Use it as a voice to let others know that you CAN get through it, you CAN do this. It's so confusing. I mean, really, it's a damn ribbon. I've had melanoma more times than breast cancer, but I don't feel the need to even THINK about a black ribbon. Breast cancer is just so highly marketed.

There's a part of me that feels like I should be more emotional about this whole thing. I mean, I lost my boobs--GASP! But, to tell you the truth, I really don't give a flying monkey about it. Like I said before: THEY'RE JUST BOOBS. My natural boobs were there for a reason--to feed the babies. Which they did. Then, their whole purpose was, apparently, to remind me that African tribal women share the same genetics as I do. Because I saw pictures of African tribal womens' boobs in a National Geographic once. To me, mine looked like that. But just really white. Go figure.

My boobs were a part of me, but after nursing, they were just there to add a womanly curve. To fill out a bra. A pillow for my kids to lean back on when watching tv. And that's why i'm getting new ones. Not because I NEED them to feel whole, but because I want them. I love having a curvy shape. It doesn't define me, but I love the way it looks. I want my kids to lean back on me and feel comforted--not get hit in the head with a sternum and ribs. And...let's get real...I need to balance out these hips! 

I'll admit--i'm excited about the foobs. I'm not a scantily-clad dresser, or a provacative dresser by any means. I don't need to flaunt 'em to feel sexy or pretty. My daily wardrobe consists of t-shirts, jeans, and Converse; in the summer--tank tops, shorts, and flip-flops. But, i'm excited to have that curve back. Right now, the tissue expanders are so uneven and lumpy, that i have to wear loose, flowing clothes to try to cover it up--lest it look like I have a rotting grapefruit under my shirt. Everything is comfy...but i want to wear my favorite tshirts: 'Riverbottom Nightmare Band', 'Do What Matters', and 'Flogging Molly'. All of which are more fitted. I want to be able to pull on my jeans, and slap on a favorite tee. Is it odd that this is what's important to me? It's just weird to NOT feel like myself. To wear clothes that I normally wouldn't, but HAVE to. I am low maintenance. This whole process makes me feel high maintenance, and it's annoying.

I do believe i've rambled on long enough!

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