How do I part with both of my breasts? How does it make any sense at all, the cutting off of two beloved, former baby-comforting, perhaps slightly sexy parts of my female anatomy? How will my clothes fit? Will I cry when I look in the mirror and see my new and less curvy upper torso? When I gaze down in the shower, what will I see? Not the roundness of two rather small breasts, but perhaps protruding ribs formerly unnoticed? A tummy marked by the stretching of childbirth? Unwanted scars?
Will my yoga poses feel the same, when I open my chest to the sky and open my heart? When I take long walks, will my awareness wander to my empty chest and mourn the lack of slight movement? Will I comfort myself by wearing a small sports bra to keep the familiar snug feeling around my upper body?
Or will I smile? Will I feel light with the lack of fear of tiny cancer cells multiplying maliciously beneath my skin? Will I experience the freedom of wearing a T-shirt without a bra and run around unhindered? Will I embrace the flat look of my chest, knowing my clothes look different, but not worse.
Will I always be able to embrace my body with love and reverence, for my body is part of me, but it is not me. Will I find a way to feel comforted by my new figure, see it as a reflection of self-care and determination, just as I admire a newly tightened muscle I have worked hard to develop?
I will not do this with anger, but with love and intention. I will mourn, but I will celebrate. I will share, and I will push some limits. I will say YES to my ever-changing life. My new sexy is waiting, unique and undefined.