This is the first time I’ve ever gone to the beach with my girls.
And I don’t mean my children. I mean my boobies, of course. My new boobies that I went through hell, and back, to get.
If I had to have cancer, I must say, I’m glad it was breast cancer. At least I got a perky new rack at the end of all the super fun treatment. Other cancers don’t have this advantage.
Hey, I’m a glass half full kind of person. Why not, right? Before breast cancer, I was barely a size 32A. But not any more. Nope. Things are much better now. My friends even comment, and I can’t say it bothers me.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, Dara, but your boobs look fabulous,” a friend said recently.
Do I mind? Not at all. I especially think it’s funny when I catch men friends taking a little peek at my chest region. I’m not used to all this attention, but it’s fun. And I let myself enjoy it.
I must say, I do think my girls look good. Especially in the new bathing suits I had to purchase because my old ones are too small.
My husband, Jon, didn’t mind when I had to go out and buy all new bras and bathings suits. He didn’t mind at all. In fact, he encouraged these purchases.
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I have a lot of friends who have gotten implants, and I think they were on to something. Here I’ve been, stuffing myself into padded bras for years, when it could have all been avoided. I’m really not complaining, though, because it did make the end of my treatment an extra special celebration. I was rewarded with implants.
You might as well look for the good in a given situation. All the time. No matter what you’re going through, there’s something good to focus on. I promise you.
By the way, it’s not like I look like a Kardashian. My girls are very natural looking.
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