On the bright side, that scar tissue is totally dead. As a result, I dread getting naked with a guy for the first time, because 'By the way, I've got weird boobs, don't freak out' is a conversation no one enjoys. I also got a bonus prize in the form of a very dark lump of scar tissue about the size of a 50-cent piece on the bottom of each breast from the removal of the infected tissue. The typical pattern of scars resulting from a breast reduction is what they call an 'anchor scar,' a semicircle around the bottom and then up from the middle to the areola. When the time came that I found myself very interested in other people's interest in my bathing suit areas, though, I got a side of scar anxiety with the usual order of body-image issues. The two things that everyone heavily warned me about - that I would likely have very noticeable scars and trouble breastfeeding in the future - were the furthest thing from my traumatized preteen mind. Nobody has awesome long-term decision-making skills when they're 12. Scott Griessel/iStock/Getty Images Congratulations on your lifetime appointment as supreme dictator of Wrongsylvania. Yes, obviously a literal child was intentionally flaunting her shameful body despite the clear distress it caused, you horror-show of a person. It was an embarrassingly long time before I realized that her statement was so many kinds of wrong that it's actually sold at the Wrong Store in Wrongingham, Wrongland, in different shades of wrong. I think I just stammered out an objection that the shirt I was wearing - a perfectly normal T-shirt - wasn't that tight. In response, this 60-year-old woman said, quite matter-of-factly, 'Maybe you wouldn't have such a problem if you didn't wear such tight shirts.' I didn't know what to say at the time. During a meeting with my sixth-grade teacher to discuss why my grades had fallen from 'Now you're just showing off' to 'We've had to start using an entirely different alphabet,' I hesitantly opened up about the teasing that played no small part in the problem. I didn't expect the adults to join in, though. Burns, and I give it 20 years before I'm typing with my nose, but hopefully by then I'll be able to afford regular massages. My default position working at my laptop is hunched over like Mr. I'm in my 20s, but I feel like an old lady the way I need no fewer than 27 pillows to lounge comfortably on the couch and creak when I stand up. My neck, shoulders, and upper back are in pretty much constant pain. But standing straighter doesn't actually straighten my spine - it just forces my rib cage forward, causing my shoulders to turn into blades of pain after just a few minutes, which doesn't feel nearly as awesome as it sounds.Įven after trading the boulders for more manageable snowballs, I'm still suffering.

When I was in nursing-assistant training, my supervisor was constantly yelling at me to stand up straight, and I wanted to scream, 'LOOK, LADY, I WILL STAND AS STRAIGHT AS YOU WANT IF YOU HAND ME SOME OF THAT PERCOCET OVER THERE,' but you don't wanna launch into your whole medical history, and also yelling about lifting pain meds in a hospital is probably a bad idea. Moms of every kind look on in disapproval.

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