I stood in the dressing room at Victoria’s Secret, and tried to tell myself how ridiculous it would look to cry. The saleswoman stood behind me, pulling this and adjusting that, muttering under her breath that she couldn’t get me another size because the store didn’t carry a bigger one. When it became clear nothing she did would cause those two ladies in the cups to behave, she excused herself to help someone who could actually fit into a bra.
    I was cursed with larger than average breasts. Starting in late junior high, I watched as countless girls of all ages looked at me with false sorrow and proclaimed they wished they could have my chest. I would have let them have it.
    The problems might sound silly to some, but to a high-school-age girl just trying to be normal, it felt like God was trying to punish me for some unknown iniquity.
    I also couldn’t wear the cute shirts or bathing suits my friends with normal-size chests wore. When I tried to, they would giggle at how ridiculous I looked, and said they were laughing with me. But I was laughing only on the outside; inside, I wished I could do something to help make me more comfortable. 
    It got worse when I got to college. I still had trouble fitting into clothes, and when I tried a little too hard, girls misinterpreted it and called me slutty or something else amazingly creative. Boys look at a large chest and assume the girl is a green light, which is quite an inaccurate assumption.
    It also hurt to jog or do anything very active, it hurt to hear my friends make jokes and it hurt to see myself in the mirror. Something had to be done. I had been considering breast reduction surgery for some time, but I was very afraid of how my (very conservative) parents would respond when I talked to them about it.
    However, they were very receptive and instantly helped me set up a consultation with a plastic surgery center in Wichita. When I filled out the paperwork, I couldn’t stop smiling — this was the first step to changing my life.
    It was awkward, that’s for sure. Having a strange doctor and nurse examine me and take pictures (for the insurance company) is not my idea of a fun afternoon. However, it was worth it, because I was lucky enough to have my insurance company cover the entire surgery. The surgery date was set, and all that was left to do was say good-bye to two friends I was not so fond of.
    I had never been in a hospital setting before, so I was a little high-strung, to say the least. The fact that it was a plastic surgery center made me feel like I should be on “Dr. 90210.” Two hours and a lot of groggy confusion later, it was all over with. My new body was here, and it was time to heal.
    My recovery time was amazingly short. Perhaps that’s because I was so excited and upbeat about getting on with my new life. That might sound dramatic, but it’s true. I could finally be a normal girl, not one people looked at when they walked by.
    I can honestly say having breast reduction surgery was the best thing I have done so far in my life. It might seem odd in a world so caught up with women trying to have larger-than-life breasts and disproportionate bodies, but I lived that life and it wasn’t for me.
    My life is more comfortable, both physically and mentally. I can wear what I want to wear, do any activity that suits me and enjoy positive attention that is more focused on what is going on above my shoulders. I feel more healthy and active, and my doctor even told me going through with this drastically reduced my risk for breast cancer. I am so grateful to have had a family and core group of friends who supported me in my quest to become happier.
    In my gender relations class the other day, students were discussing how women went through plastic surgery because society tells them they should, because they aren’t beautiful enough. I, along with many other women out there, are the exception to that rule.
    I didn’t do it to attract boys, I didn’t do it to get girls to be friendlier and I didn’t do it to become beautiful — but I did it for me, plain and simple. I am more comfortable with myself, and I will never regret it. I know I am not the only woman who has felt uncomfortable with not only her breasts, but any part of her body. If you are one of these women, I urge you to look past the stereotypes of cosmetic surgery. It changed my life for the better, and now whenever I walk into a store like Victoria’s Secret, I can do it with confidence, and proudly ask the salesperson for a 34C.

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