I’ve always identified myself as being the girl with the big boobs. They were always envied and I never knew why. All of my friends would say “I wish I had boobs like you.”

I always responded with “No, I promise you. You don’t.”

I always considered them the lucky ones. 

By the time I was 13, I was a B cup. A freaking B cup at 13. Most girls are still flat chested at that age. By the time I was 17, I was a E cup. I couldn’t find a bra that fit me properly to save my life, and I had back pains every other day, and let’s not forget about the sweat. I hate sweating and when you have a big breasts, you sweat all the time, even if it’s freezing outside. 

I have a very small back, I can’t believe I was able to put up with it for so long. What stores sell bras for petite girls with a E cup sized chest? None, I checked. Trust me.

My breasts had been part of my identity for so long, but I finally realised there was a lot more to me than my physical appearance and I should let people see who I truly am. I shouldn’t have to suffer any longer purely because others like and want them.

So, recently I got breast reduction surgery and it was a serious game changer – the best decision ever. 

Back in 2018, I decided to finally speak up to my doctor about my constant back pains and she referred me to surgery. It’s a whole process just to get called for surgery, I had to go in for a consultation appointment, which I had to wait months for. Then I had to wait to get approved by my insurance, as surgery is really expensive and health insurance doesn’t always cover it. I got lucky. 

After months of waiting for approval, I was sure that I wouldn’t get improved so I tried to do what I was doing all my life and that’s adapt with what I have. 

Lucky for me, I was approved in December 2020 and they booked my operation for Feb. 9. 

The day of the surgery I wasn’t nervous at all. This is something I’ve been wanting since I was in high school. I was ready, I’ve been ready.  

I was told to come in at 8:30 a.m. I reassured my mother and Christian, my boyfriend, that I was okay. They were more scared than me. When I got called I felt a bit of butterflies, but I told myself I’ll be okay, and that I was.

I waited hours until they finally put me under the Anesthesia and took me to the operation room. I started to grow impatient, I just wanted to get it over with.  

The surgery was about four hours, to me it was like a minute, I remember closing my eyes and waking up. 

I woke up and felt the bed moving. I had a feeling they were finished but I wasn’t sure. I then asked “am I done?” and the nurse said yes. Then I asked if they can call Christian and my mother to let them know that I got through surgery and I’m okay. 

Even during a surgery, I worry about my loved ones. 

The nurse called and I was able to sleep peacefully knowing that I got through surgery and my loved ones were aware of my wellbeing. 

I’m not sure how long I slept. I just know I was starving, I didn’t eat all day. The nurse brought me some crackers and water and I FaceTimed Christian and my mother so they could see me. 

They were all worried about how I felt, but I didn’t feel anything. Painkillers really numb you. 

After hours of being in the hospital, I was finally discharged and Christian picked me up and took me home. He took care of me the whole day, and wouldn’t let me get out of bed unless it was to use the bathroom. 

I’m still healing, my doctor said that the healing process takes up to 4-6 weeks, but I’m okay to return to my everyday activities after four weeks. My everyday activities don’t really include many physical things.

For the first week post-surgery, I had to wear blood tubes, which catch my blood from my wound. I had to measure how much came out in the morning and at night. At first I thought it was a bit much, but it really isn’t all that bad. I haven’t taken any painkillers since the day of my surgery, this isn’t the case for everybody. This physical pain is worth it.

After the first week, I will be okay to wear other bras besides the ones provided to me, as long as they’re not wired bras. Which I’m not really a fan of anyway. After six weeks, when I’m fully recovered, I can wear any bra I want. 

Although I’m still healing, I already feel great, I no longer get back problems like before, I just need to work on my posture. No more sweat, and I can see my feet when I look down. I feel like a whole new person, happier, and healthier. It was definitely worth it. 

I feel a sense of relief, every morning when I lift my blanket, my chest looks flat, and it’s amazing. I don’t think you can quite understand the emotional and psychological impact unless you’ve lived it yourself.