Show Your (Breast Reduction) Scars

cleavageApparently, Ariel Winter decided to wear a dress to the SAG awards that showed a little side-boob and as a consequence, also showed a little breast reduction scar. This, in turn, led to her defending her decision to show some scar along with some side-boob because, goddamn, we can’t be having with this showing of any imperfection, especially from the womens in Hollywood. We live in a society for crying out loud.

Read the comments of that People article (if you dare). In between comments of support and discussions of how bra sizes work, you’ve got people bitching that nobody wants to see that and men bemoaning the loss of Miss Winter’s breast tissue.

Now we all know that I’ve not been shy about my own breast reduction or talking about my boobs in general. I spent several years feeling like they were a completely different entity that happened to be attached to my chest, the objects of jokes and unneeded attention (so many guys wanted to just touch them because they’d never seen boobs so big outside of porn). My boobs are easy to talk about in a dispassionate sort of way. After being big for so long, they’re no longer a big deal.

But, the scars, man.

My hang-ups about my scars remain. They’re still a source of huge insecurity for me. Maybe if I hadn’t had the complications, maybe if I wasn’t predisposed to scar so badly to begin with, this might not be an issue for me. But, it is. I am endlessly amused by any guy that comments on my chest or stares at my tits because in my head I’m picturing the horror on his face if he saw what these jubblies really looked like.

Because I know he’s not expecting it.

It’s been over 13 years. The incision scars have faded, but you can still see them. The evidence of the complications I suffered with my left nipple/areola will never go away, never look normal. And let’s not even talk about the stretchmarks I acquired getting to the point of needing surgery.

That shit isn’t going away, kids. That’s me. Just another imperfection to add to the ridiculously long list of imperfections I have.

Miss Winter said that she wasn’t ashamed of her scars, they’re part of her. I have to admit that this child that I could have birthed has a very good point. Why should I be ashamed of the scars I incurred from a major surgery that took pounds of tissue from chest so I could make an attempt to live a more normal, pain-free life? Why should I care what some guy that I’d never show my tits to in the first place thinks about my scars? Why should I care what anyone thinks of my scars?

Pardon me, kids.

My self-perspective has just done changed once again.

Five Weird Searches That Led Here

English: Helm of Awe (ægishjálmr) - magical sy...

I’ll be honest. If it weren’t for Starsky and Hutch fans, Randolph Mantooth stalkers, and folks in need of fat girl nudie pics, my blog wouldn’t get much action.

A lot of the searches that lead here are pretty run of the mill and make sense. As a Rerun Junkie I write about old TV shows, so searches, weird or not, relating to them make sense (hence all of the Starsky and Hutch/Randolph Mantooth folks ending up here). I write about being a fat girl (sorry, no nude pics), belly dancing, being tactless, breast reduction, the Cubs, the CornBelters, writing, bisexuality, etc. and getting tangent searches related to those keywords make sense.

Even so, some searches make me raise an eyebrow.

Here are five of the weirdest searches that led people here (and probably disappointed the hell out of them):

1. “magical plants to deter unwanted visitors”–I can understand the deterring unwanted visitors part, but I’m not exactly sure what’s intended by “magical”. Like Harry Potter magical or pagan magical or “Hey, my mother-in-law hates azaleas! Plant them everywhere!” magical?

2. “huge titties weightless enviorment”/”boobs in weightless environment”–Either the space station is cashing in on a very specific porn market or they’re missing out on one.

3. “stuff i just figured out about scooby doo”–More questions than answers here, folks.

4. “burnt popcorn smoke inhalation”–If this is a medical emergency, you should really contact a physician. Also, give up cooking for life.

5. “jesus zombie chocolate fertility bunny”–This sounds like the best Easter mash-up celebration ever and the only thing that makes it better is that this exact search hit my blog twice.

The Internet is an interesting place.

A Boobies Birthday Story

An animated image of a birthday hat.

Today is the 10th anniversary of my breast reduction surgery and I’m going to celebrate by telling the one boobs story that my friends love best.

As detailed in a previous post (because I often talk about my breasts), my breast reduction surgery involved a free nipple graft. In short, this means my nipples were removed and at one point during that day, laying on the table next to me. They were then reattached.

Now, a couple of years prior to this surgery, I had my left nipple pierced. When your breasts were as big as mine were, you tend to get less shy about certain things. Flopping my tit out to have someone ram a needle and then some jewelry through my nipple seemed like a good idea. If I went back, I’d do it again. To me, there was nothing embarrassing about it, though I’m sure that piercing guy probably still tells the story of my massive boob. He was pretty impressed.

Anyway, as is a risk with piercings and despite my best care (and maybe because I have terrible luck with any piercing not in my ears), my nipple ring grew out. Basically, my body rejected it and forced it out. It got to the point where there was only a thin layer of skin keeping the jewelry in. So I took it out and the piercing healed, leaving a scar (as most things do on me). Nothing major, just two little indentions on either side of my nipple.

Which brings us back to my breast reduction and my nipples being taken off.

After the complication of having the skin on my left nipple die, slough off, and heal, I was able to really see the handiwork of my plastic surgeon.

And I realized, by the position of the old nipple piercing scar, that my nipple was on cockeyed. It’s in the right position, but the scar points more to 4 and 10, rather than 3 and 9, if you take my meaning.

It’s probably something that happens a lot with free nipple graft surgeries, but most people probably don’t have the means to recognize it.

So, what did I do when I discovered it? I burst out laughing and then told all of my friends that I’d been keeping up-to-date on my boobs.

The consensus? They thought it was the funniest thing ever. To the point, that if a related conversational topic comes up (you’d be surprised how many there are), they will call upon me to tell the tale. Because it’s funny and bizarre and unlike anything anyone else has ever experienced.

I don’t have many one-of-a-kind experiences in my life, but that one is definitely everyone’s favorite.