How a breast reduction changed the way I view my body

“I deserved it because this is the body I was going to live in for the rest of my life, and I didn’t want to waste any more time being unhappy.”

Content warning: This article contains mention of eating disorders (including weight specifics) and sexual assault. 

I don’t really want to say, “My boobs grew overnight,” but during the summer of 2011 when I was 14 years old, I have two core memories. Firstly, the severe floods that wiped out most of southern Queensland and confined me to the family home during my school holidays.

Secondly, the way my boobs somehow went from barely filling out a Bonds training bra to then spilling out the top of a size 12DD balconette I pinched from my eldest sister’s room. It was a beautiful and expensive bra that probably cost more than my Mum’s weekly grocery bill for six kids, and I simply had to try it on.

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To my shock (and delight!) at the time, my boobs filled out the cups, and then some. After years of wishing to be a grown-up, I felt like the door to womanhood had finally swung open and whooshed me inside. But from that moment on and for the next 11 years, they just kept getting bigger. And bigger. Until this June, at 25 years old and a humble 12H cup, I decided I’d had enough.

My relationship with my body has ebbed and flowed over the years. When I finished school, I’d been holding up my E/F cup boobs (at the time) for a few years. As someone who enjoyed being active but was always very self-conscious about how much involuntary bounce there was, I shied away from team sports and the gym.

In 2017, I decided I wanted to be a police officer. To pursue that dream, I needed to pass a few fitness tests. I ended up losing 25kg in six months. For the first time since I was 14, I had small-ish boobs. They shrunk down to a DD, which was still quite big for my frame, but for me, it was amazing being able to go for a run and trust that the sports bra I was wearing would keep them down.

However, things took a turn when I realised my ‘harmless’ weight loss ventures had turned into a full-blown eating disorder that was horrifically impacting my life. I was fainting, my face looked gaunt, I developed heart issues, my period disappeared, and I noticed I was cancelling plans on people unless I knew exactly what we were eating. It was a mess.

But… I had small boobs. Life was easy in that regard. So the obsession with staying ‘small’ correlated a lot with how my breasts would be impacted if I gained weight again.

In the five years since then, I’ve had a lot of therapy, counselling and everything in between. I’ve read books and spent years being single and focusing on healing. There was a lot to unpack. My breasts tied me to sexual trauma from my early twenties, discomfort from physical back and neck pain, frustration from never finding clothing that fit me properly, and a plethora of other reasons that had me crying about my body at least once a week.

I came to a realisation: unless I was significantly underweight for my frame, my breasts would always be uncomfortably big. Or, I could get a breast reduction. For a long time, this procedure was out of the question for me. Too scary; too expensive and just ‘not possible’.

I always had the idea in my head that plastic surgery was shallow; vain and didn’t represent body positivity or self-love. I would be a fraud if I had it done. As someone with a large Instagram following who wanted to promote body positivity, I felt if I had a breast reduction, people would see me as a phoney.

I want to emphasise how untrue all of this was. This narrative is exactly that – a narrative. This plastic surgery was the ultimate expression of self-love and body positivity, by my definition.

In 2021, one of my best friends and roommate Aly* booked in to see a renowned plastic surgeon in Brisbane. She had been wanting a reduction for years and had been doing a lot of research. I remember we had a conversation about it in high school. Her operation was a huge success – he removed nearly 2kg of breast tissue and even in the thick of post-op recovery, I noticed an immediate change in her happiness, confidence and quality of life.

In the months following, I debated about getting a breast reduction myself. Finally, on a particularly uncomfortable day in June of this year, after I had tried to run on a treadmill and my neck and back twinged with pain, it was finally the straw that broke the camel’s back (I am the camel, the straw is my boobs).

When I booked my consult, I had minimal savings – nowhere near the amount I was quoted to get the procedure done. But, I was determined to make it happen. I deserved it. I deserved to walk into a store and not feel obligated to spend $80 on a supportive bra that they would have to “Order in, sorry love”.

I deserved to not be sexualised involuntarily no matter what outfit I wore. I deserved to feel comfortable and confident. Most of all, I deserved it because this is the body I was going to live in for the rest of my life, and I didn’t want to waste any more time being unhappy.

In the end, I was quoted $13,000 for the procedure. I saved a bit, got a personal loan and accessed some of my superannuation. All the money came together a month before my surgery date. I made my final payment to my surgeon and cried. It was from happiness, of course – this surgery was invaluable to my quality of life.

As I sit here writing this, I am 15 days post-op. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been overwhelmed with positive emotions in the last two weeks. The recovery period was a little rocky, but the surgeon and nurses at the plastic surgery clinic took fantastic care of me. They eased my concerns and alleviated any post-op scaries.

My clothes look completely different. I feel incredibly beautiful and feminine, but above all, I’m comfortable. I’m physically so much more comfortable. The absence of 2.5kg, which felt like a dumbbell around my neck when I had bigger breasts, is very surreal. I’m recovered from an eating disorder, in a soft and full body, with lovely breasts that are finally at a size that is perfect for me and my lifestyle as a nurse. It was truly the best thing I’ve ever done for myself.

*Name has been changed.