Day 79 of 365: my boobs inspired me to write a book.

I had my breast implants removed a little over three months ago, and my life has freakin’ transformed.

Prior to surgery, I was in constant pain, had the energy of a sloth, and dealt with a slew of other ailments. The implants had caused an autoimmune disorder (“Breast Implant Illness” or BII), and my health deteriorated no matter how healthy of a lifestyle I lived. I dealt with this for years, with no doctors knowing the real cause (until I was introduced to Dr. Susan Kolb).

Within days of the surgery, I felt immensely better.

My creative juices started to come back, as well as my clarity of mind. Within a week I was going for walks around the neighborhood, which was unheard of in the months prior. My joint pain completely disappeared, my skin cleared up, and my energy and vibrancy increased.

The first day I saw my new (significantly smaller) boobies, I had a bit of a sad. It was a shock. I’d spent 7 years with 32DD boobies and was suddenly down to A+ / B’s that were flattened out from wearing an obnoxious blue floral compression bra + pulsing pain relief contraption like so:


I allowed myself a day of grieving. I cried and sulked in all its fullness.

And then… Just as the grief came, it left.

And it hasn’t been back since.

I’ve never felt sexier than I do now. I love my smaller breasts, and I don’t miss the big boobs AT ALL. (And trust me, I was obsessed with big boobs from a young age.)

Also, my breasts are uneven now (because surgeries to remove malignant melanoma years ago took a big chunk of my right boob)… And I’m also okay with that. I also have lots of gnarly scars. And I love them. I look in the mirror and I smile.

My heart has been opening since the surgery. I never considered to what extent two toxic bags of goo could prevent my heart chakra from opening… And so heavily block my receptivity.

A lot of realizations have been happening. Epiphanies. Mostly around my body image.

To give you a frame of reference, I struggled with an eating disorder for many years, without knowing I was struggling at all. This was also the time I was struggling with alcohol and pill addiction, also unbeknownst to my then present-day self. I was working full-time as a Customer Service Manager while enrolled in college full-time, maintaining a 4.0GPA. How was I to know there was a problem?!

I was down to a 00 in American Eagle, and was looking forward to shifting to Abercrombie Kids once I lost even more weight.

^^^ Apparently it is possible for ya’ girl to lose her ghetto booty. (WHAT A SAD DAY FOR US ALL.) This was before I was at my thinnest. Check out the arms, the collar bones, etc.

I was so… Fucking… Unhealthy. Counting calories, staying under 1100 a day (which included my liquor consumption, which was… not tame), exercising every day, often multiple times… Drinking Red Bulls and Monsters and coffee, taking Adderall, etc…

Now that I’m in a substantially healthier place with my body, it’s sometimes easy to forget what I went through to get to where I am. It’s tempting to keep the past buried in the past and continue focusing on just how shiny and awesome I’m becoming or will eventually become.

And to an extent, that’s good. It’s great to focus on what’s to come. It’s awesome to celebrate where I am now.

However, the pain and growth I’ve experienced has not just been for me. It’s been so I can help others who are or have been in similar situations. Sharing my story is one of the best ways to reach others. Keeping it hidden does nothing.

I had a conversation with a pilot today at work, where he referenced a family member who struggles with an eating disorder. And he was so hateful when talking about it. “When will she be fixed?” and “Why can’t she just be normal?” Were two of the many sentences that forced me to take deep, centered breaths so as not to attack him with my Swingline Stapler.


I did my best to explain the emotional component behind any form of addiction, explaining that his love and support and space will take him and his family much further than his anger and being a bully. He looked at me like I had tentacles growing out of my head.

I’m glad the conversation happened. I’m glad he pissed me off. Because anger is an amazing motivator. I now have renewed fervor to continue on my book, “Big Boobs + Thigh Gap: a journey beyond body obsession”… And I am motivated to share more of my story through my blog and through article publications.

It’s easy for me to share the day-to-day things. The… “Here is a situation that happened today and here is the awareness and method I used to overcome it and blah de blah face.” It’s a much greater challenge to tell the deep vulnerable truth about my struggles. (I’m honestly still coming to terms with how sick I was.)

I’m not sure what this will look like. What shifting my focus will yield. I’m simply going to trust in chance. I’m going to keep showing up to my computer every day ready to write… And truly allowing whatever wants to come through, to come through.

Here’s the first two pages of the rough draft of my book!

(You can buy a copy of my first book here.)

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(2ND GRADE, folks. That’s when my body images really began.)

Looking forward to sharing more of my journey with you.


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Some days, I paint. Other days, I write. And rap. And tell stories. And do comedy. And doodle. And [attempt to] bake. And, one week out of every month, I merge with my sofa and sob about mortality and things like the existence of air and how we can't live without it and how utterly claustrophobic that is to consider. I'm relatively particular. And this is a place for me to share ALL the quirks.

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