After my PBM, and immediate onset of reconstruction, I spent weeks recovering, regaining strength in my arms, and recovering from the fatigue.
As much as the “old me” still remained physically and emotionally in some aspects, in others I was transforming. The weeks turned to months and reconstruction progressed. While I would look in the mirror at my new curves, the perkiness and roundness of my chest was almost awkward in its contour.
These new “breasts”, they were just going to take some time to get to know. They were, and are, funny really. Mind you, I joke only about their appearance. Their value as lifesavers is never far from my consciousness, and as far as appearances go, I am very pleased. That being said, they are the happiest “breasts” I’d ever seen. They sit right up, alert and awake, 24 hours a day, regardless of my position.
When I awaken in the morning, they have already had their cup of Joe, and they are sitting up straight, smiling at me, ready to start the day. It still makes me laugh.
I’ve learned how to outfit myself now, as what was elegant before, seems much more provocative now. I had to learn over time which tops I felt the most comfortable in, and how to still look and feel sexy with my new shape.
Ultimately, learning to feel comfortable has been about much more than what to wear, it’s about how I feel about this process…proud, yet slightly insecure physically at times. Every day I become more confident, the curves start to become more comfortable, and they aren’t the first thing I see when I look at myself in the mirror.
I see myself, slightly reinvented, most of the evolution having occurred from the reflection taking place in my mind.