Body image is a peculiar issue in my life. Despite all of the people telling me "God created you just how you should be," or "You are beautiful the way you are," I never felt like anyone understood my body image struggle. When I was 14, in the midst of puberty, I noticed something odd about my development: my right breast was larger than my left. I let it be, thinking it would even out soon. Boy, was I wrong.
After suffering through crippling self-image issues and constant neck and shoulder pain, I went to my family doctor. She went over my options and we decided to pursue a breast reduction. At 16, my doctor sent me to explore some other opinions and tests done. That was when I met my future surgeon, Dr. Kang. I was so nervous at first. I had never shown anyone my chest, let alone a man I hadn't met. Dr. Kang was very comforting through the whole process. He listened to my concerns and symptoms, took some measurements and pictures, then told me I was a good candidate for a breast reduction surgery. I was so excited, knowing that something could actually be done to "fix me." That feeling was short lived when the office called me back six weeks later to tell me that my insurance denied my operation because it was "cosmetic." I was devastated. What would I do now? Continue to manipulate my chest back into position every ten seconds? I didn't know what to do, so I let my worsening body image claim me.
At 18, I tried again. At this point, my breasts had increased to a three cups size difference and my spine was starting to curve.I was miserable, had trouble breathing and was desperate. I went back to Dr. Kang and, again, insurance denied me. Finally, at 21, I walked into Dr. Kang's office with records of chiropractic appointments and even more evidence to say that this surgery was necessary. Six weeks after my appointment, the receptionist at his office gave me the best news I had received in a long time, "Insurance has approved your surgery, are you available in three weeks for the operation?" I cried. I wept so hard because it was finally real and my solution was just right around the corner. I did so much research on the procedure and found out all the nitty gritty details from how long it would take to how the healing process would be.
At last, I walked into the hospital at the crack of dawn, got poked and prodded a bit and was wheeled off into the operating room. I woke up a few hours later, sore and sleepy, but relieved. I was and still am so happy that I had the option to go through with the procedure. Even though the healing process was a little rough, it was so worth the pain (shout out to the great surgical team at Hamot).
Now, I am almost two months post-op, bra-less and more carefree than ever. I feel happier! Now, I can't wait to go shopping for a bikini (something I thought I'd never be excited to do). I might have some scars, but they will fade. The experience has left me with a very important realization: being comfortable in my body is something no one can stop me from achieving.
