There I am humming my "kick some cancer-risk-ass" theme song all confident and prepared to get this surgery from my future to my past. Just strolling down the BRAC brick road. When a silly Victoria Secret commercial reduces me to tears.
It's ridiculous. Laughable really. Even when I was "young and beautiful" I wasn't the Victoria Secret model type. As a girl, I was more of a white bread version of America Ferrera in Real Women Have Curves. But for some reason the sight of those models in a random TV commercial hit me in the gut. Caught me off guard. It brought out a fear I had been pushing back and holding down. A fear I didn't even know I have.
It's so silly. I know I'm much more than a pair of breasts. BUT the world I live in objectifies breasts and as much as I try to tell myself I'm above all that. That perfect image of what I "should" look like is still lurking in my subconscious somewhere. How crazy is that?
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