Let Freedom Ring
I can see my 21 year old self prepping for surgery. She was unafraid, excited, seemingly confident, and fiercely determined. She had just moved to Nashville, started Belmont University, was trying to get over her high school love and was certain that a new set of boobs would be perfect for her new start. First of all, those comments men made to her about having a big butt – well, if she couldn’t get that smaller no matter how hard she tried, then maybe big boobs would balance it all out. Second, maybe shirts and dresses would finally fit better and not be too tight around her hips and too big in the chest. Third, if she was going to be a country music star she thought this addition would be important.
Fast forward to 2012, my 32 year old self was married, studying to be a counselor (not a singer), and in an adoption process. She called an ambulance because she was convinced she was dying. Her heart was racing so fast, and the room was going blurry. Test after test said she was “fine.” And then numerous more symptoms popped up like: ear ringing, stomach pain, rashes, food intolerances and allergies, chronic neck and back pain, fatigue, anxiety, depression, on and on and on. Doctors thought she was depressed from the long and drawn out adoption process. And maybe so. So she did more counseling, detoxes, supplements, medicines, chiropractors (I have met some amazing helpers by the way). While overall I got “better,” every treatment was a band-aid for a wound that was never healing.
By 2020 at age 41, I hadn’t had a day without physical pain in 8 years. And one day a chiropractor said, “Have you considered getting your implants out?” Not long after I heard about Breast Implant Illness (BII) and did the research. And it clicked. It was me. And I scheduled my explant as soon as I could. They’ve been out since June 10.
I could tell you more about BII, but what I really want to share is how sad I feel for my 21 year old self – that she thought she needed “more” to be seen. What it really did was rob her of 8 very precious years of her marriage, her kids, her job, her health. I don’t blame her. I’m not mad at her. I am just really sad for her. And I have zero judgment for any choices that any woman makes for herself in an effort to feel better. I know many amazing women who choose implants because of breast cancer or other reasons. I’m not sharing to shame or condemn anyone for their choices. I wanted to share my story just in case it can help another woman on my same journey.
Your body is a gift. She is the most uniquely precious thing – every curve, wrinkle, bump, mark, pound, and scar is telling you a story you need to hear about what she has been through and how special you are. If you are in pain or have sickness, it is not her fault. She is not against you. She is telling you she is hurting and needs your help. Be kind to her. There are so many things I am telling my body about how I treated her and now asking her forgiveness and appreciating all the beautiful things she does and has done for me – hikes on the most beautiful trails, a marathon run, 13 mile kayak adventures, long peaceful naps in the shade, walked many airports and dusty Haitian roads to bring her sons home, and birthed the most beautiful daughter. Half my life I spent with silicone bags inside her thinking they would make a better version of me. I have cried joyful tears about how much more free I feel these last few weeks. It’s too soon to know if all my symptoms are relieved, but my neck and shoulders are already so much more relaxed and pain-free because they are literally not carrying the weight of my 21 year old’s burden anymore. Let freedom ring.