Happy Birthday to my mastectomy scar!!
A year ago today my cancer was removed and with it, my cleavage. Hey, who wants one of those anyway? Other than the entire damn western world, that is. Today I find myself mesmerised by other women's cleavages - and they're everywhere! The fashions, they are low cut; the bras, they are on display and me - I find myself staring at other women's boobs, and that's pretty weird.
I never used to think much about them before: they were there and if I had the right top on and stood at the right place at the bar in the pub then I might get served before the blokes. And I liked to wear my fitted tops and I loved my lacy, beautifully colored, low-cut bras. No matter what I was wearing on top it made me feel good to be wearing something sexy underneath - even if only I knew it.
I have had some very nice, very kind comments recently so I wanted to say a more 'public' thank you. 'Thank you, ladies'. I have to admit, I'm not feeling very beautiful or even very happy with myself anymore. I never thought this would happen to me. No-one ever does, I expect. I just feel sad now - just sad; in a dull, heavy, weighted-down kind of way and nothing much seems good - it doesn't seem *bad* either - just...flat. Like nothing much, like I've gone numb along with my scar. It's my "little souvenir of a terrible year".
I have occasionally stamped my foot and said 'it's not fair' - but I guess I don't feel I'm allowed to complain. It doesn't change anything - it doesn't make it go away but maybe I should; maybe those 'dragons' need to be named and released. Maybe I'm allowed to whine a little bit and say 'it's not fair'. Well, you know what: IT'S NOT FAIR! WHAT DID I EVER DO WRONG? I'VE ALWAYS BEEN THE 'GOOD ONE' - too afraid to be anything else and look where it's got me....I'm boxed up by my fear and constrained but it didn't save me from breast cancer. It didn't save me.