Read Part Un here.
That previous post mentioned how, in part, my posture certainly changed when puberty reared her head and pronounced me worthy of her, uh, magnanimous gifts. You get my drift. Things grew, and fast. As I got older, those “gifts” not only added to my terrible posture—honestly, they were the main reason for it—but they made me utterly self-conscious. I grew to rely on blazers and cardigans in my 20s and up. You’d also rarely see me in a t-shirt. In high school, I favored larger shirts because no high schooler is wearing a blazer. In other words, I was all about that camouflage life. No one was going to put a spotlight on me because of them.
Then in the mid-90s, I watched an episode of Living Single (1994, episode title: “My Cups Runneth Overl) and Kim Fields’ character (and my personal heroine) Regine learned that she had to get a breast reduction to ease the back pain and other medical issues she was going through. This coincided with Kim Fields’ real-life reduction. Can I tell you how much I longed for the same thing? Like, I remember watching that show and looking down at myself and wishing it was me in this fictional tv show. But yeah, in ‘94, I was 15 and nope.
But for years, I looked into it. Doing research. Looking up procedures. Asking friends. I always gave up when the reminder came that a surgery like this was cosmetic and therefore not an insurance-will-cover-it thing. The wallet wasn’t cleared for such things.
But three years ago, after much thought, prayer, and a friend telling me that an amazing surgeon had performed her procedure, I took a leap. I had a consultation with a doctor who said the following winsome words:
Oh, you’re definitely a candidate for surgery.
He told me their staff would take care of discussing this with the insurance company. They took pictures, looked at the indentations in my skin, my very bad posture, my back. I soon learned that my out-of-pockets costs would only be a few hundred dollars. This was kismet. I was finally going to do this.
Well, in November of that year (2018), I did it. Some bulleted thoughts about this surgery and its aftermath:
- My sister asked me if I would have an emotional reaction to replacing those big “gifts” for smaller ones. Nope. Not a one.
- Um, the healing process was not easy. It hurt! But I knew it was necessary and thank goodness for amazing friends who thoroughly helped me and took care of me.
- My confidence increased exponentially. I was no longer afraid of t-shirts, buttoned shirts, and the absence of a blazer. We’ll discuss that a bit more below.
- The presence of a good doctor does wonders.
About clothes. I definitely felt freer and not encumbered my self-consciousness after the surgery, but I still deal with some phantom “gift” issues. Meaning, maneuvering myself like the weight is still on there. Slouching like the weight is still on there. So, yeah, mentally, I still need to sit up straight. I’m working on that…
This post has one main point: there’s a beauty in having a goal, time passing, and finally achieving it.
Onwards and upwards.