I Need To Get This Off My Chest

A long-awaited breast reduction left one feeling physically – and emotionally – lighter

-  Natalie Brennan

I knew I’d found the right surgeon to perform my breast reduction when I took off my shirt and she said simply, “Let’s get these off you.” As I sat on the crinkly paper sheet on the exam table in her office, she explained that the two- to five-hour surgery would involve cutting into the lower part of my breasts, removing excess fat, skin and tissue, repositioning my nipples and then stitching me back up. My only thought was, “Finally.” My road to reduction started in September 2017, when I first filled out the paperwork to get the procedure — formally referred to as a reduction mammoplasty — covered by my insurance here in Toronto, Canada, where I live. The paperwork served as proof that the procedure was medically necessary thanks to my significant associated symptoms (back pain and the inability to work out) and gross disproportion (picture Dolly Parton).

At 25 years old, I’m 168cm tall and weigh 59kg. When people used to ask what my bra size was, I would respond with “E”, but I was never really sure. My surgeon never confirmed my cup size, but she did laugh when I told her what I thought it was. (“Sorry, honey, you’re definitely not an E” were her exact words.) Though my band size is a 32, I was buying 36DDs for the larger cup size and tailoring them to fit me. At specialty shops, I would take up to a 34K.