As a society, we're constantly bombarded with unrealistic beauty standards that dictate how we should look and feel. For me, this reached its peak when I decided to undergo breast implants 22 years ago, in my quest for the "perfect" body shape. The problem was, these artificial enhancements ran counter to everything I loved about being outdoorsy - running, hiking, and working out.
I'd often find myself worrying about how I looked in a tight shirt or feeling self-conscious about my natural flat chest after breastfeeding two babies. My implants were meant to be a way to fit into that nearly impossible beauty standard: a thin body with round, fuller breasts. But as the years went by, they began to take their toll. The constant worry and anxiety took a toll on my mental health.
It wasn't until I had capsular contracture - a condition in which scar tissue surrounding an implant hardens and thickens - that I realized it was time for change. A doctor told me it was time to replace them because they'd hardened like hockey pucks, making it uncomfortable to sleep on my stomach.
The thought of new implants was daunting. I'd heard stories about breast implant illness (BII) - an umbrella term for a range of symptoms including joint pain, rashes and autoimmune reactions that occur after breast implants. The risk was higher with over-the-muscle placement, like mine - something I didn't know when I had the surgery.
That's when I met Junko Kazukawa, an accomplished distance runner and personal trainer who'd undergone a bilateral mastectomy for breast cancer. She'd chosen to stay flat after her surgery, opting instead for a more athletic physique that felt comfortable and natural.
Her words of wisdom resonated with me - "You can still be feminine with a flat chest." I realized that my explant surgery wasn't just about removing the implants but also about taking back control of my body. It was a liberating feeling, one that allowed me to focus on what truly mattered: staying healthy and active.
It's not always easy, though. There are still moments when I feel self-conscious about how I look in a tight shirt or worry about what others think. But those doubts are far outweighed by the confidence boost I get from embracing my natural flat chest.
I've come to realize that our society's beauty standards are often created and pushed by corporations, media outlets, and influencers. They tell us we need to stay young and look a certain way in order to be desirable. But what about those of us who refuse to play along?
The truth is, it's okay not to conform to these unrealistic expectations. It's more than okay - it's necessary. We need to create space for self-acceptance, body positivity, and inclusivity.
As I look around at the women I admire, like Junko Kazukawa and Kelly Ridgway-Smith, who've chosen to stay flat after their surgeries, I feel a sense of solidarity. We're not just embracing our natural bodies; we're redefining what it means to be beautiful in the first place.
It's time for us to take back control of our own narratives, to challenge these societal norms that dictate how we should look and feel. It's time to celebrate our uniqueness, rather than trying to fit into someone else's ideal.
And as I run or work out, feeling wonderfully aerodynamic with my flat chest, I know that I'm exactly where I need to be - unapologetically me.
I'd often find myself worrying about how I looked in a tight shirt or feeling self-conscious about my natural flat chest after breastfeeding two babies. My implants were meant to be a way to fit into that nearly impossible beauty standard: a thin body with round, fuller breasts. But as the years went by, they began to take their toll. The constant worry and anxiety took a toll on my mental health.
It wasn't until I had capsular contracture - a condition in which scar tissue surrounding an implant hardens and thickens - that I realized it was time for change. A doctor told me it was time to replace them because they'd hardened like hockey pucks, making it uncomfortable to sleep on my stomach.
The thought of new implants was daunting. I'd heard stories about breast implant illness (BII) - an umbrella term for a range of symptoms including joint pain, rashes and autoimmune reactions that occur after breast implants. The risk was higher with over-the-muscle placement, like mine - something I didn't know when I had the surgery.
That's when I met Junko Kazukawa, an accomplished distance runner and personal trainer who'd undergone a bilateral mastectomy for breast cancer. She'd chosen to stay flat after her surgery, opting instead for a more athletic physique that felt comfortable and natural.
Her words of wisdom resonated with me - "You can still be feminine with a flat chest." I realized that my explant surgery wasn't just about removing the implants but also about taking back control of my body. It was a liberating feeling, one that allowed me to focus on what truly mattered: staying healthy and active.
It's not always easy, though. There are still moments when I feel self-conscious about how I look in a tight shirt or worry about what others think. But those doubts are far outweighed by the confidence boost I get from embracing my natural flat chest.
I've come to realize that our society's beauty standards are often created and pushed by corporations, media outlets, and influencers. They tell us we need to stay young and look a certain way in order to be desirable. But what about those of us who refuse to play along?
The truth is, it's okay not to conform to these unrealistic expectations. It's more than okay - it's necessary. We need to create space for self-acceptance, body positivity, and inclusivity.
As I look around at the women I admire, like Junko Kazukawa and Kelly Ridgway-Smith, who've chosen to stay flat after their surgeries, I feel a sense of solidarity. We're not just embracing our natural bodies; we're redefining what it means to be beautiful in the first place.
It's time for us to take back control of our own narratives, to challenge these societal norms that dictate how we should look and feel. It's time to celebrate our uniqueness, rather than trying to fit into someone else's ideal.
And as I run or work out, feeling wonderfully aerodynamic with my flat chest, I know that I'm exactly where I need to be - unapologetically me.