making new decisions, dialing it down, and stubborn nipples

So. I got my breast implants out almost a year ago now, and living with tiny natural boobies is a rather new experience for me. Part of this experience is me being able to, like, feel things. With my nipple region.

Praise baby Jesus.

baby jesus

Another part of this is that I’ve tried 30 different bras and none have worked so far. See… I had a surgery for malignant melanoma on my right breast, and then three different booby surgeries. One to make ’em bigger, one to rebuild the support structure to KEEP them bigger (b/c my body was trying to fight back and I was saying EFF YOU, BODY. I WANT THEM DD’s!), and the last to get all that nonsense removed because the implants gave me an autoimmune disorder and hurt a lot.

So I’ve got some gnarly scars, yo. And I love the shit out of them. But it makes wearing a bra uber uncomfortable.

Granted, my itty bitties don’t necessary require a bra… BUT there’s this whole thing of, like, being appropriate and respectful and not calling attention to Mary Kate and Ashley (that’s the name of my chest twins).

And this morning I had to try on 10 different shirt/top combinations before I could find one where my nipples weren’t like


And my office job is a technical/creative writing gig with a bunch of PILOTS. Which means primarily men over the age of 55.

(My first interaction with a work person this morning was a 65 year old pilot blowing me a kiss.)

And I’m like…


Except I actually blew a kiss back and immediately was like “WHAT. WHY DID I JUST DO THAT.”

Oh well. Progress, not perfection.

This is a lot more words about nipples than I’d planned.

I am learning not to be ashamed about my body, while also not drawing unnecessary attention. It’s an interesting balance.

The balance today was ultimately attained by wearing two tank tops and a shirt and then a little over-sweater thing. And a dangling necklace.


And even now, my nips are like…

baby did you say you want to see me

Hey, if that’s the biggest challenge I run into today, then I’m doing okay.




I can be a lot.

And that’s not a bad thing. I’m not saying that negatively, even slightly. But it’s like how lights have dimmer switches. Sometimes you need the uber bright light to read a book or tinker with something. But, when it’s time to relax, the light needs to be dimmed a bit.

The lamp is still the same lamp; it just has different levels.


If I was wide open, dialed up, and totally honest all the time? I’d probably be in a psych ward… Because my experiences and feelings and thoughts haven’t been experienced/felt/thought by most people. And a lot of times people fear what they don’t understand.

And there are labels applied.

And then really special bright loud expansive people are shoved into this box of a label and made to feel crazy, or like they’re too much, or something is inherently wrong with them.

Yea, I don’t believe in that shit anymore. Over it.

I think we are high vibrational beings who have had to lower our vibration to be in this dense body… And that sometimes there’s cognitive dissonance between what our soul (higher vibration) knows and what our conscious mind thinks. This causes high highs and low lows, while we settle into a balanced point between both.

That doesn’t mean we’re bipolar.

We are connected to different planes of existence, and different dimensions. We all are. But some people’s radios are more easily able to receive the frequencies. Some people hear voices and don’t know why.

That doesn’t mean we’re schizophrenic. 

We are here to heal deep-rooted stuff. Not just for ourselves, but for the collective. And so we experience low lows. We may endure intense, debilitating emotional pain.

This doesn’t mean we have major depressive disorder.

Now… This isn’t to downplay whatever works for you, Reader. If you have a diagnosis that fits the bill for you and helps you live a healthy, balanced life… Then I support you fully.

But when labels and diagnoses give us the idea that we’re wrong or crazy or fucked up or bad… THAT’S the shit I aspire for us to transcend.

bye bitch

Sooo… Yea. I’m learning to feel into my audience,  and to realize that I’m not the only person in the whole world. As in, sometimes I need to LISTEN rather than bombard with all my feelings and realizations and past life regressions and and and…

And that’s okay.

I’m learning how to better show up in relationships of all kinds… And it’s mostly been through doing shit I DIDN’T like and then looking back and going, “Oh my. I was acting a little cray back then.”

And there’s the twinge of embarrassment.

And then I relax into it and send love to my past self, because she was doing the best she could… Y’know?

The key is to make decisions that support the way I desire to show up. And that’s where REAL mindfulness comes into play.

I’m tired, so I’m going to post this.

Here’s a meme of a silly dog face that sort of encompasses my old behaviors.


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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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