First Post-Boob Post Post

I wasn't going to write until after I see the surgeon tomorrow. The waiting game sucks, but sometimes it's nice to sit with the unknown. I'm seldom able to do this, but right now I can. And I have you to thank.

From the absolute bottom of my heart, thank you for all of the positive and supportive feedback you've given me since I shared my story. It was The Post, the one I knew I'd write one day but was too afraid to publish. I felt so alone the first time around that to have you there for me now is truly helping me let go. Thank you for making me feel normal, strong, and most importantly, loved. I love you, too.

It's been a strange week. I'm emotionally vomiting everywhere. This psychic tapeworm has been eating up my insides for almost twenty years now. Openly talking about it is the healing purge.

I realize now the secret became bigger than what I was hiding. Maybe I needed to keep it hush-hush in the beginning to survive my teen years, but I definitely didn't need to hold onto it for this long. I don't even recall telling my therapist the whole story. Weird, right?

Of course now that I am talking about it I have some ideas as to how this experience has affected me through the years. I'm still sorting things out, but here's an obvious one:

This is probably why I like things to be symmetrical.

Well, duh.