For the last week, I keep thinking about what it means to be a woman. Is a
woman defined by what she does? How she acts? Her appearance? Her anatomy? And
well, I think it's easy to say it's a mixture of all of this. I have always had
strong examples of women in my life who have taught me a thing or two about
the definition of a woman.
I think different occasions in our lives change the way we define ourselves
and change the way we define each other. I know when it comes to being a woman,
occasions like losing your virginity, getting married, having a child, etc. can
change what we think it means to be a woman. I can't help but thinking about
Erin Brockovich (the movie not the woman) when I think about being a woman.
There is a character in that film who has had different forms of women's
cancers and she says something like 'Erin, do you think that with no uterus, and
no ovaries, and one breast, I am still considered a woman?'. And for some
reason, I can't get that line out of my head. I guess I feel similarly about
myself; with only one breast (one that was reduced and doesn't even feel like my
own) and the potential of not being able to reproduce, am I still considered a
woman?
Part of me (the kick-ass, I can take on anything, nothing will get me down,
part) thinks, 'I'm not going to let cancer take this from me. Cancer may have
taken my breast but it can't take my womanhood. I am a woman for many other
reasons than my breast(s).' And then the other part of me (the insecure,
put-it-all-out-there, vulnerable, part of me) says, you are not the (amount of)
woman you used to be. I feel like my boobs helped define me, and I don't want
that to be confused with anything other than I was proud to have large breasts,
the same way I was to have curves; they made me feel womanly. Anymore, I feel
like I am fighting with myself to say 'I am still a woman.' Do you know that
song by Pink called 'Don't Let Me Get Me'? Well it goes 'Don't let me get me,
I'm my own worst enemy. It's bad when you annoy yourself, so irritating, don't
want to be my friend no more, I want to be somebody else' - that describes it
pretty well.
Last week, while thinking about what it meant to be a woman, I read a blog post about Kathy Bates' decision to have a double mastectomy and in
one of the comments, a woman (who has never had breast cancer or any cancer)
wrote something like 'I don't find that my breasts are part of my sexual
identity or femininity and because I have used them for their true purpose of
breastfeeding, I wouldn't think twice about chopping them off.' I think in that
one comment, she managed to discredit so much of what I feel, so many of my
insecurities, and it makes me feel shallow about missing my breasts. Mind you,
it is safe to say that I will never be able to breastfeed (I'm missing one, and
the other one was reduced which means it's a no-go either). My pre-cancer
breasts were already pointing south but I would give just about anything to have
them back, they weren't perky or firm but they were mine and they made me feel
like more of a woman than I will ever feel like again.
I just don't seem to have that innate 'feminine' feeling anymore. It's a rare
occasion that I want to dress up, or go out, or get dolled up, I think because
primarily I would feel like I was trying to fool everyone (including myself). I
know what my chest looks like and I know that I am not who I used to be (I'm
sure many of you are thinking 'Yes, but you need to mourn the old you and
embrace the new you' and trust me, I KNOW). And like so many survivors said, it
has gotten better and I am getting used to it but I guess it's just sad to think
that this is what I have to get used to. Sometimes, I feel like I want to throw
a tantrum yelling 'I want my old breast back' (mind you, I'm not sure what that
would accomplish or who would be able to appease me considering there is nothing
that can be done.)
I remember seeing a movie with Diane Keaton, and Rachel McAdams and the guy
who played 'Coach' on the show 'Coach.' Anyway, it's a Christmas movie (totally
irrelevant to the story) and at one point Diane Keaton (a breast cancer survivor
in the film) takes 'Coach's' hand (her husband in the film) and puts it on her
mastectomied breast and although I watched this film pre-diagnosis, I had a hard
time not looking away from the screen. I remember thinking, 'how awful would that
be?' How could she ever feel sexy? Those scars represent so much more than
surgery! And now, the difference is, I can't put my hands over my eyes until the
scene is over. I'm the one in the movie and those thoughts and fears are now
directed at myself.
Listen, I give myself a pep talk every day and I know there is more to being
a woman than breasts, I just miss my old one. I know it's what's on the inside
that counts but I miss putting on that shirt and feeling good about the
way I looked. I miss filling out clothes and buying a NORMAL bra not a mastectomy
bra. I miss feeling sexy and mostly, I miss feeling like a woman.
I look at my very long scar which starts at each side of my back and wonder how anyone besides me could ever stand to look at something so horrifying. I miss my black sexy low cut shirt that showed my 42DD cleavage... It will never be back.. Ever.. But I'm still here, hopefully cancer free and know I'm a woman that when not wearing my prosthesis looks like a man with a Budweiser belly. Can it get worse? Yet I must still laugh.
ReplyDeleteKatie, you're a very beautiful woman and YES, you're pure woman... Stay strong.. But you're also allowed the other feelings. They're very normal. Hard but normal.. Xxx
Well, although I am comforted knowing that I am not going through this alone, I am still saddened by the fact that you too have THAT shirt that you will never wear again.
DeleteThank you for the support, your words are so kind.
Katie
Katie,
ReplyDeleteYou are NOT alone by any stretch of the imagination. Body image issues are real and they can be crippling and you should NOT deny they exist. I was a mess for a long long time.. I'm five years reconstructed. And I still mourn for what is no longer a part of me. I don't know how you "resolve" it but I do know you aren't alone.
xoxox
AnneMarie
As always AnneMarie, thanks for the 'me too'. I mean I have come leaps and bounds from where I was (I couldn't even look at my chest post-surgery) but I just feel like 'this is it - this is what I'm left with?'
DeleteKatie
Katie I can completely relate to what you're feeling! You're definitely not alone. I never had nice boobs, they were tiny but they were feminine and dainty, and went with my figure. But now there's a big gouge out of lefty, the rest is all hard & lumpy from the radiation. The treatment left me with a flabby granny figure, special lovely flabby bits in my armpit & a spare tire fit for a truck! I miss my old figure, my old clothes, I miss the confidence to wear tank tops or v necks (which now display the flabby armpit, the large disparity between right & left and the lovely radiation tattoo marks!) l miss my long thick wavy feminine hair which has been replaced with this wiry pixie that's thinning extremely at the top from the tamoxifen.. And the chemo took my eyelashes, permanently it seems.. And they were like the last feminine thing that I had left after all this crap! So don't ever feel like you don't have the right to scream out in frustration! This sucks, it's unfair and we have a right to gripe about it! I'm hoping all of us learn to love the new versions of ourselves..
ReplyDeleteYour former chemo buddy from afar,
Diana xoxo
Diana, honestly, your comments make me feel so comforted. It's absolute shit that you have gone through what you have and that cancer has left you feeling the way you do about your body! There is so much more to cancer than treatment!
DeleteThanks for commenting, I so appreciate you connecting chemo buddy.
Katie
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteOh for heaven's sake. People who have never been here have NO FREAKING clue.
ReplyDeleteGuess what? I also breastfed and it didn't make getting my boobs cut off any easier.
I hear people say "Well I'd get a mastectomy because my breasts don't define me." Well, no mine didn't define me either - when I had them. Now that they are gone? It's like a part of me is gone. A part I didn't willing get rid of.
Do not take what she said to heart. Know that people who are where you are, feel the same way. Because once again, I could have written this post. I get it so much so. It has nothing to do with only seeing breasts as sexual objects or letting your breasts define you. It's about having to go to hell and back to stay alive and losing a part of our body in the process.
((((hugs)))
Brandie, if anyone can make me feel less crazy, I think it's you. Thank you! It's so true that people don't understand what it's like until they've been through and I don't expect them to but when someone says 'it wouldn't be that bad' having never been there themself, it drives me up the wall.
DeleteThank you so much for connecting! I really appreciate it!
Katie
I completely relate. Of course you miss your breast and all that goes along with that. I miss mine every single day. Reconstructed ones are nothing like the real deal. Of course, we are no less of a woman now, we know this in our heads. Still, it's hard...And that woman's comment was insensitive indeed.
ReplyDeleteAll I can say is, you're not alone and don't feel guilty for missing lost body parts. You're entitled.
I don't even mind the look of 'fake' breasts but it's not like mine are an augmentation, they are a replacement, a replacement that I did not have a CHOICE in getting - it was either nothing or this!
DeleteThank you for making me feel less alone or for letting me know that you know what it's like.
Katie
Katie, I totally hear ya on this one. I remember the first time I looked for the first time at the scars after surgery. I felt like a nine year old boy when I would wear old clothes that were now swimming on me.
ReplyDeleteDeep down we know we are still women... but it can be hard to feel that way when we no longer have two nipples and that softness of real breast tissue. We feel less attractive and not completely whole... because quite literally a piece of us is missing!
Thank you for this candid post. Big hugs from western Canada! xo
Thanks Ashley! I always appreciate knowing that I am not alone.
DeleteAs I've said many times, my oold boobs weren't great to look at but they were mine and they were real and I miss them.
Katie