reflections of a historical mystery.

truth is the impetus for the presence of these words. an honest insight into insecurity and/or a curious battle with philosophy and social politics. either way, i am certain that with the eviction of these thoughts from my head i shall be set free. i am certain...

for forty two years (real close to forty three) i have walked the earth with a body designed by nature. two years ago it was re-designed by it as well. in my mind my body is still normal; i had cancer in my right breast, therefore, the breast was removed, therefore, i no longer have cancer or my right breast. this newly designed vessel that i experience life through- and in- serves me beautifully.

then why are there weekday mornings when i pile my favorite weekend blouses and snug t-shirts on the bed after pulling them on and then off after critically analyzing whether or not the fabric is too telling on the right side. too empty. and finally settling for the long sleeved one that is usually too hot for the season but "puffy" enough in the front to not show off anything... at all. and then there's the scarf-o'flauge (see "scarfless in brooklyn" a few posts back for that story).

i know in my heart that breast reconstruction wasn't for me. geeze- i freaked out when i found out that the surgeon who performed my lumpectomy five years ago chose to place three 1/8" long metal staples onto breast tissue and around the perimeter of the excision in order to see the site better on future mammograms. if the thought of these small pieces of metal under my skin bothered me- i can imagine what a mound of anything that would be literally shoved, crammed and forced under my brutally stretched radiated muscle and skin would have done to my personal psychology. and i know in my heart that the $300 prosthesis that lives in my drawer does more damage than good to my integrity. and all of this to avoid looking normal. or would it be- all of this to look normal?

so. why do my words not reflect my feelings when i'm preparing to step out into the world. well, i'm human for one. and live in a world guided, or mis-guided by misunderstood illusions of beauty. so if it takes daily affirmations like "i'm no clown for your enatainment" (in a joe pesci from 'goodfellas' kind of voice) to assimilate or even protect myself from the world around me- then so be it. at the end of the day or more profoundly- at the end of this journey- it's not about what my body looks like- it's how i've taken care of it and respected it. and best of all that i guide it through the days on my own terms.