I Got A Breast Reduction Because My Boobs Do Not Define Me

2024 Author: Steven Freeman | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-17 08:15

This article was originally published on HelloGiggles.com.

From an early age I have always had boobs. That's right - I said it. Boobs. Breasts, tits, tatas; I've heard them called every word in the book. Mine in particular have had many names over the years - most of which I don't dare to say. I'd rather not remember.

In fourth grade, my mom took me bra shopping. She made it fun.

She acted like it was okay that I was developing so early

I bought my first sports bra that day, but the humiliation at school the next day is all I remember. I can hardly recall the excitement of actually purchasing the bra the day before. You could see the bra outline through my uniform school shirt.

Radius Images

In middle school, the perverted, hormone-driven boys took notice. They were going through changes, too. "Boobs mean you have sex a lot," one told me. Sometimes I'd go to the movies, and a boy would try to grab one in the opening credits.

I was a C cup. At age 13

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High school brought on more boys with bad intentions, and more clothes that didn't fit my big bust. I was a D, then a DD.

Rounding out my time in high school I was becoming a DDD. My back pain was intense, and my self-confidence was at an all-time low

I was very petite and I felt like my large breasts were the center of attention. They had come to define me. If I wore something too low cut, I looked slutty. Something too tight made me a whore. Something too concealing made me a prude. I had been told for my entire life to "put them away." I couldn't be myself because my breasts would make the first impression all by themselves.

In college, I became more unhappy with my body.

The summer before my sophomore year, I decided a breast reduction could be the answer to my problem

I set up a consult to find that my insurance would cover it in full.

Ezrena

My family understood, but others didn't.

Finally, during winter break, the day of my surgery came. I was at a hospital at 7 am four days before Christmas, ready to have my boobs taken from a DDD to a C. I was so nervous - but mostly excited. I woke up after surgery in a fog; I was taken home with an ace bandage over lumps on my chest that looked like the ones from my middle school days.

A week later, my bandages were removed. I cried for a solid ten minutes when I saw my new breasts. I had never been happier. I could already see myself wearing the V-necks I was never allowed to put on, and the dresses that my mom made me put back in high school.

This surgery has already had a dramatic effect on my life.

I have a confidence I never had before, and for once, my body is my own. My breast reduction was for me and no one else

I will never have others label me for what I cannot control. This surgery gave me the courage to put my foot down and tell the world one thing: I am not an object. My breasts do not define me.

Miranda P. Culver is a Kentucky girl at heart with big city dreams. An avid clarinetist and full time musician. A lover of Kentucky Basketball and French fries. Her dogs are her best friends.