If I had a dollar for every time some girl I’ve just met tells me that her “friend’s sister’s cousin’s girlfriend” just got a breast reduction and says it was the best decision of her life, I’d have a lot of dollars.  I started to seriously consider my options when I spoke with my friend K, who had the surgery two months ago. She looks like she’s lost about 20 pounds, now that she isn’t hiding under drapey shirts anymore, and I’ve never seen her happier. When she told me that her doctor said it would still be possible for her to breastfeed after her surgery, I went on a search rampage, desperate to find some shred of knowledge that would push me to make the decision once and for all. What I found were hundreds of before and after pictures like these, which I combed through for hours before coming to several conclusions:

  1. a good doctor can minimize scars;
  2. “after” boobs look really perky, like “fake” ones!
  3. women in “after” pictures almost always have insane tan lines–is it because they are more confident? because they can shop at Victoria’s Secret like everyone else?
  4. “after” pictures often depict weight loss–easier to exercise without the risk of losing an eye, I guess;

    and, finally,

  5. despite their too-big-in-my-opinion size and the amount of grief they give me when I’m shopping, working out, talking to a man, talking to anyone, or wearing a uniform of any kind . . . after seeing what’s out there, I have decided I have a pretty nice looking pair. Maybe it’s because I’m young and I haven’t ever been very overweight or had children, but I think for how big they are, they’re sitting pretty high up. My nipples point out, not down. (My grandmother says this will change.)  

I have concluded that I am too emotional about the subject to make a decision right now, but I will leave you with the silly musings of my subconcious. I had a dream the other night that I went for a breast reduction consultation. I stood up and undid my hospital gown to show the doctor my biggest problems.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he said.
“Well, ain’t that a shame.”