Zippy Lomax
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Tryin’ on new bras — feelin’ pretty effin’ cute, despite my disheveled hair and puffy eyes.
This was the first moment of playful acceptance; the soft embrace of a new, curvier self — buoyed by the supple swell of glorious cleavage!
Precisely what I asked for. 💕
Before my mastectomy, I had some good laughs with my rockstar surgical oncologist, Nathalie (Dr. Johnson), about getting ‘upgrades’, giggling at the thought of ‘ordering up some decent cleavage.’
Enter my incredibly skilled plastic surgeon, Shannon (Dr. O’Brien), who regularly works alongside Nathalie in the O.R. Apparently they’re like long lost sisters!
I honestly feel like I won the lottery, somehow landing in their loving, capable hands. I could not have received better, more attentive care. Annnnd — I kind of adore them both.💜
I may have lost my natural breasts, but — Nathalie ensured I got to keep my own skin and ni***es — and Shannon has built me some damn fine replacements.🤩
I’m still getting used to it; the novel treat of two big(ish) C’s, in place of a threat from one. 👀
I don’t know their names yet. I call them ‘BoobSacks’🤣 — My New Girls — The Twins — P***y & Frida.
Perhaps I should call them S & N, for the badass women who gave me them. 💕⭐️
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10/13/2021
Seeing these images for the first time inspired such uneasiness that I considered the session a total failure, producing zero ‘acceptable’ images.
Rather than subject myself to further unjustly critical self-examination, I asked friends to help memorialize my breasts the night before undergoing a bilateral mastectomy. (Yes; I’ll share a few of those later.)
Only recently did I dare revisit this series, and found I could appreciate its raw poignancy. Through a slightly more compassionate lens, I see a pensive tenderness in my unsettled expressions. A sort of delicate, transparent, unmasked beauty.
While it is difficult to square the glaring differences between the young girl I imagined I was with the middle-aged woman I now perceive, I suppose this is true for anyone who’s ever aged in a human body.
Perhaps it’s only my ability to recognize time’s inevitable influence that has increased. Or, Chemo really did age me about a decade or so.
Either way, I’m slowly learning how to lean into the discomfort — resisting the temptation to retouch bits I find ‘unsightly’; to ‘fix’ or soften or erase the ‘old’.
This is me, at my most naked and vulnerable — fully exposed — in all the ways that truly matter.
I’m choosing courage over cowardice — allowing all to view these intimate glimpses — trusting you’ll see what I’m only just beginning to; immeasurable strength, hard-won wisdom & unshakable grace. 🙏🏼
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