Tits & Trauma- my implant journey
Jun 21, 2021It has been exactly a year this month since I had my breast implants removed.
My choice to get breast implants was, what felt like, an empowered decision. I had no one telling me I needed them, I had no abusive boyfriend making me insecure about my body. I was already a well paid erotic entertainer who had people spending very good money to admire my body, tiny breasts and all. I was a little insecure about my small breasts but I was also very much a feminist rebel with a 'I don't give a fuck what you think of my body' attitude. I profited off those who did like them (and the rest of my body and personality) and told the others to go fuck themselves. I had many customers beg me not to get implants, telling me they thought my body was beautiful and perfect the way it was. 'I'm not getting them for you!' I would say, I didn't care if someone liked my breasts small or large. I didn't want ANYONE telling me what to do with my body.
After I healed fully from surgery, I loved my implants. I loved how they looked on me and I often said 'It feels like I finally hit puberty!'
Perky fake breasts are probably always going to be sexualized, and I became more and more self conscious outside of the strip clubs because of it. They were great for work and for modelling, and in the right clothing things would fit perfect! But a lot of the time I craved to just wear a singlet with no bra and not look erotic or pornographic, to be able to go to the beach and take my top off and not gain stares and attention, to dance topless at a festival and not feel objectified, I suddenly envied the flat-chested goddesses who could walk around topless or in skimpy outfits and just look cute, not looking erotic or like they're trying too hard.
At a burner festival I even had a man interrupt my hulahoop flow to ask me if they were real or not, clearly staring at my barely-covered breasts for a while wondering, and deciding that my choice to get surgery warranted interrupting me and questioning me for his own knowledge. It confirmed my insecurity that people were watching and looking, and that I wasn't safe to have my breasts exposed even at a festival which is supposed to be free expressive.
What could have been a nice photo had my implants not been so creepy- Photo by Lux Faber
Over the years gravity started to take hold and I started noticing 'rippling', when the skin is a little too thin and you can see the ripples in the implant, particularly when you bend over. I could also quite clearly see the top line of the implant when I leaned back and stretched. More to be self conscious about! They started feeling more foreign in my body the more I got in touch with myself, they felt alien and numb and creepy. I started to look at the idea of removing them, especially when a friend removed her implants and she looked amazing after. It was time.
We finally went to Sweden in December 2017 and I had a month until my surgery. This was probably one of the worst months of my life. My partner had to work to help us get the money for the surgery while I sat at home waiting around, my parents had to sent me some money to help out too. I could barely do anything at this point. I managed to pull off a couple of performances and a photo shoot to make some more money, and besides that I sat in this room in his dad's apartment going not-so-quietly insane. I had no friends there, no money to leave the house and nothing to do but wait for my surgery. He was busy working and when he came home he had no energy left for me. He was already doing all he could to support me and had nothing left to give. I am still so eternally grateful for the support he was able to give in this time, but unfortunately these situations are bigger than what 2 people can handle sometimes. I felt abandoned, I felt crazy, I could barely get out of bed. I knew I was slowly dying, I felt death coming closer. I wanted to leave, to run away anywhere... I was stuck. It was snowing and I didn't even have a house key so I couldn't go for a walk and be in nature, I had no money as it was all going to surgery so I couldn't get public transport so I was essentially trapped.. not something easy to handle for a free-spirited world traveler. I didn't have the internal ability to ask for help because I was so low, and I always hate admitting when I'm weak. I was in survival mode. There was nothing but the surgery, and I didn't really realize the scope of the severity of my mental and physical health at this point. I was having suicidal thoughts, I wanted to die. I had so much fear- what if it isn't the implants? What if this doesn't work? I can't live like this. I won't. I shut down. I cried for days.
And maybe people would have taken me more seriously. People understand the severity of cancer. There is help for cancer patients. You get sympathy when you have cancer. Support groups, funding...
The illness also slowly destroyed my relationship, it was never the same. He never saw me the same after that, even when I got better, and we really tried. I truly believe the Luna he saw me as before I was sick had died during that time, and when she returned months and months later, the damage was already done. I won't go too much into this topic because it is very painful for me, and for his sake too, but I will just say that this was one of the worst repercussions of the illness which caused me some of the most pain in the long run. I wish we had got outside help, I wish we had both had more support, I wish we had been to counselling, group support or anything, but we didn't get help and it tore us apart little by little, trying to deal with something that was so much bigger and darker than we thought it was. We were in survival mode, and it is what it is and we tried our best given the circumstances.
My first performance back with no breasts, there were comments from women in the audience that 'She would be pretty if she had boobs but she's average otherwise' which was a nice welcome back to the itty bitty titty comitty- gotta love women being supportive of other women! It didn't phase me- I was already feeling better than I had in a long time even just weeks after the surgery. Most of the symptoms disappeared in a matter of days.
After that we flew to Turkey where the 2 months of training and emotional processing began. My period was weeks late which sparked the first freak-out, then I got scolded for messing something up and broke down in my room for an entire day. I was still an emotional mess even though my health was getting better. I tried every morning to do a little exercise, to try to get on my aerial hoop and do a little conditioning- and I spend a lot of the time laying on the ground feeling like a hunk of painful jelly. Day by day I tried to do a little more and tried to motivate myself but it was extremely hard to do- to know you used to be fit, strong and healthy goddess and now you're a weak and feeble mortal again. Over the 2 months I got there, day by day.
I started doing self-love work and practices, following amazing inspiring women online and doing guided practices to help me return to myself again. I used to be so happy, positive, motivated and in love with life- I knew I could get there again somehow. Some days it felt like total bullshit but slowly things were sinking in.
Work, work, work.
Eventually I've been getting there but it took years to get me to such a low point so it isn't surprising that it's taken me a year to recover, mentally and physically. I'm happy to say I am finally feeling myself again.
My breasts are slightly deformed now. It feels ridiculous to say that because they do look pretty good now, but it is true, and I was even one of the lucky ones. Besides the obvious surgical scars, I had a dent from a stitch pulling in, and now I have a dent in my right breast from the healing. I tried doing Chinese cupping on it and it improved, but I think it will be a little deformed forever now. Not only did I go through all of that, but my breasts are left worse than they ever were to begin with. My breasts were perfect to begin with, tiny, puffy and all.
Women who had mastectomies after having cancer were getting implants put in and getting cancer again. They were being left with more scars, more trauma.
Women have died because of their implants and the complications.
If we had all accepted our bodies and made no alterations, how different would our lives be?
Where would my relationship have been if we hadn't been through such a traumatic experience and I hadn't become such a mess?
Now all I can do is try to stop others making the same mistake I made.
I have to fight the paralyzing fear every time I get a hint of being sick- that it is back, that I have not recovered and that any minute now I'll be bedridden again. It has been a year and I have not fully relapsed yet but I still feel like it may come at any moment and that I'm just lucky to have gone this long.
I am not totally anti-plastic surgery. I had rhinoplasty when I was younger and I have no regrets there- it was an amazing decision for me. However, Implanting and injecting toxic chemicals into our bodies is a different case. We are not being told all the risks, we're being told it is safe when it is not and we're being flat-out lied to. Plenty of doctors will still blatantly lie to women about the risks- never mentioning the rising rate of cancer caused by implants and the autoimmune diseases (saying there is no evidence despite the huge amounts of scientific evidence) I really understand now the severity and the pain that this industry is causing on us and I can't un-see it. Once you go down the rabbit hole of learning the reality of these procedures, there is a massive shift.
Filling my tiny boobs with ALL the love!
I want women to know that their womanhood has absolutely nothing to do with their lumps and bumps on their body.
I want transwomen to know that they also don't need to take that risk- and you can be a beautiful women who is flat chested too! I know this must be even more confusing and tough for transwomen when it is such a symbolic surgery for their choice to live their authentic self- but this still buys into the idea that woman=breasts and there are so many epic goddesses, cisgendered and trans, that have no breast tissue and ROCK IT.
If you or someone you know has breast implant illness, or suspects that they do, please check out this website and join this facebook group for more information. You can also message me and I am happy to chat and give any guidance you need. You don't need to be alone in this.
Love, Luna.
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