Walking into and out of surgery was a fog to me. Come to think of it, most of the next year would be, too. On and off meds to kick the depression, I don’t remember feeling the satisfaction I craved laying under the knife that October morning. I’ve struggled with body image issues most of my life, and by most, I mean the first time I binged and purged was age six. Another story, another post. But is it? 

Maybe the implants were a perceived external solution to a deep-rooted internal wound. A band-aid, placed on top of a broken heart, expected to heal a lifetime of “not good enoughs”. And, spoiler, it didn’t work. In fact, it backfiredm because, here’s the truth; nothing we do to mask a core issue ever fills the hole that created it.  

2018
Having a former eating disorder (and existing body image issues) has a perk; you’re constantly in tune with your body. Ok, maybe in a sick, visually distorted kind of way, but you’re aware. Something wasn’t right. Of course, the first noticeable symptom was the constant inflammation and complete inability to lose weight: No. Matter. What. Mood swings like a teenage girl, sex drive of a nun, and intense irritability followed suit. At 40, I felt like I was falling apart, despite the fact that I was eating healthy and working out. 

After some sought-after answers, routine blood work, and results that couldn’t really be explained, it looked like I was post menopausal (zero estrogen), low testosterone (on a scale of 1-120, I was a 7), and I was severely vitamin deficient. Something wasn’t right. We treated the symptoms (BioTe) but my soul said there was more. It was unsettled and searching. 

Here’s the power of sharing our stories…someone shared theirs. Her story about Breast Implant Illness, and the journey of explanting, spoke the words I wasn’t ready to hear. She was sick. Very, very sick. and her implants were the cause. Her symptoms, while 12 years in the making, mirrored mine.

I KNEW.

I knew, but my issues were deeper and my symptoms were less debilitating, so the excuses came. For months, I quieted the whispers. In true God fashion, the whispers turned into louder stories, more frequent news articles, and people who would cross my path talking about BII (Breast Implant Illness). I couldn’t deny the tiny pains that started to become noticeable or the ongoing struggle to simply breathe. 

For me, Breast Implant Illness is two fold. It’s equal parts physical ‘dis’ease and mental ‘dis’order. The physical symptoms are real; I’ll post a link below. No, I don’t think every person with implants will be noticeably sick – not everyone who smokes gets lung cancer. But I do think some of you might be suffering and have no clue why. The mental aspect…no one can argue the hard truth. We change our bodies because we don’t like what we see. I changed my body because I listened to the world who told me I should be asymmetrical, perky, and perfect. That was then; this is freedom.

February 22, 2019
6 hours and 2 bagged up implants later, I walked out of the surgical center a lighter person; physically and mentally. It wasn’t until a few days post-explant, and the first time I unwrapped the gauze, that I found MYSELF in the mirror. I’ve never been proud of my body but this day was different. I was botched up and set free. I was deflated and bruised. I had battle wounds and wore them with pride. The stitches and scars made me feel alive. I was healing physically and had completely healed mentally; chains gone. 

The irony isn’t lost on me. Five years ago, I crawled up on an operating table seeking to be someone different.  Someone just trying to fit in and fill out that bikini top a little bit better. Now, five years later, the table has turned. I woke up, literally and figuratively, 375-400 CC’s lighter. The chains of body imagine issues thrown out with the hospital gown. I am perfectly imperfect.

That was then, this is freedom.

There’s someone who needs to hear this story because they are sick and the implants are why. There are others of you who need to hear my story because you are broken and your implants (or the ones you’re thinking about getting) can’t heal the lifetime of “not good enoughs”. They just won’t.  

If you’re sick, listen to the whispers. The Breast Implant Illness link is below, read up. Have questions? Email me or comment below and ask. Need a surgeon who believes you? I’ve got one I can personally recommend. 

Second group, know this; life is equal parts brutiful and beautiful, and so are you. Nothing you ever do will change that. Implant or explant, releasing the chains is possible and living your best life available. Listen to the whispers that lift you up, surround yourself with a tribe of people who love you for you, find YOURSELF in the mirror and live free from what others look like and say you should. You are wonderfully and beautifully made.