Unfriended

truth

Erasing a man from your life is an all day job. I spent yesterday tying up loose ends, deleting him from every iota of social media that existed between us, clearing every text thread and throwing away anything he ever touched.

I’ve come a long way in the last few years, and don’t really have any hate to hurl at him. Once upon a time, I would have verbally ripped him apart, vertebrae by vertebrae, feasting on his insecurities and shining a spotlight on his shortcomings.

After 5 years of being single and reassessing my own bullshit, I’m not that woman any more. I care deeply about my effect on people.

Even the shitty ones that don’t deserve it. Even the asshole who cared so little about me that he broke my heart via text message. A week after he was in my sheets and 4 days after I had surgery. What a guy.

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I care because I’ve worked hard to be a better human being. I’m less angry, with more determination to laugh about things that hurt me, instead of cry. I strive to have less tears and more forgiveness. I’m not perfect, and realize that shining a light on someone else’s failures only steals my own sunshine.

I’m a hell of a woman and he’s an idiot for blowing his chance. That’s the bottom line. No matter the excuses, there will never come a point where I look back at this situation and feel ashamed for how I behaved or responded to such utter bullshit.

That is everything.

I said the tough stuff that I’ve previously kept to myself. I didn’t mince any words or hold anything back, but the hurtful things I said were true, not malicious. I’ve learned to carry myself like a treasure, instead of a weapon and recognize that he’s not worth blowing up over.

So a love note is more in order, don’t you think?

Dear Asshole,

A text message? Really? I still want to punch you in the balls for that one. The saving grace is knowing that the karma for that text message cost you a pretty penny. I warned you that bad things happened to people that were shitty to me. I’m the Karma Fairy’s favorite girl. I don’t envy you the bad times ahead, but I sincerely hope they teach you to care about your integrity again. 

PS. Enjoy the skydiving lessons I bought you… but triple check your chute. 

xoxo J

 

My New Gummy Bears

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My best friend picked me up in the wee hours of the morning and I started to get excited. I’d put off getting my saline breast implants replaced for far too long and it was finally the day. I’ve been having sharp stabbing pain in the left one, incidentally the same one that broke a few years ago. I’m not that vain… but I want two boobs again, preferably the same size.

Actually… bigger. I swapped out 510 cc saline for 610 Natrelle Inspira high profile cohesive gel. In layman’s terms, I went from a 36 DD to a 36 G/H. I caught a lot of flak for it, but I love having big boobs and if you have to buy them… why not?

I wore a 36 B for the first 27 years of my life. I know how it is on both sides of the fence and which side I prefer to live on.

My first surgical nurse had a million questions, complaining that she was an A and had always thought about it. I encouraged her and she told me after I came out of recovery that she thought she was going to do it.

My anesthesiologist came walking in. NOT the perverted one, because I called and asked for a replacement. My very first thought when I saw him, was that he looked a lot like Incredicock. He’s charming too, setting me at ease and chatting with me as they wheel me down the hall and into the operating room. He smells just like my favorite guy. That was my last thought.

I woke up and threw up. Suddenly surrounded by all my favorite nurses. They cleaned  me up and instantly started laughing and teasing me.

J- Ok, hit me. How bad was it. What horrible secret did I tell you guys?

N1- You told Derek he was hot. Oh and that you loved his beard and his tattoos.

J- I was afraid of that. He looks a lot like this guy I…

N2- Incredicock? We may call Derek that for the rest of his natural life. My favorite was when you told him he was a jerk for being a holdout <riotous laughter> and asked him why it took him so long to tie you up.

N3- In your defense, you did ask us to duct tape your mouth shut when we asked if there was anything you needed before we put you under.

J- and none of you had any tape?

N1. That’s the most fun I’ve had in surgery all week.

Sigh.

Derek popped his head in and smiled widely at me.

J- Sorry I hit on ya, doc.

D- Don’t sweat it, my wife loves it and Dr. did a great job. They look great. Knock ’em dead, Tiger.

I have a high pain tolerance. High enough that I warn them to ignore me and medicate me on schedule. They released me with a strict timeline.

That first night was no fucking joke. The left side of my chest was unrecognizable with my pectoral muscles separated to my collar bone. My implants were floating and my muscles were out of control, trying to figure out WTF happened. The opiods made me queasy and I couldn’t sleep on my back. There’s always a post-surgery moment where it all hits you at once. This was my moment.

My beloved Little Red took care of me for the first two days. I’m ridiculously independent so it was just really pleasant to visit with her and have her chastise me when I’d waited too long to take my meds and was in agony as a result. I always wait too long. I don’t like feeling foggy.

God bless the Dumpling’s daddy for showing up like the superhero he is, just when I needed his help the most. I’m so grateful, and he even picked up my coffee creamer for me. The most amazing part of the hardest days is realizing what incredible friends you have.

Miss Fancy is my Alpha and Omega. She drove me, and was the best sight post-surgery. There aren’t even words for how happy I was to see her face. She bought me this lovely first G bra and the coffee I’d been dying for, the moment we left the surgical center. I’m stuck in this godforsaken boob seatbelt, 24/7 for the first three weeks.

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Miss Lovely has given me the big boob facts, and loaned me a lovely bra until my new arsenal of industrial strength bras show up.

It’s been two weeks and I love them. The pain is gone, with the exception of the dreaded boob seatbelt that I am dying to ditch. The most notable difference, is in the actual feel of them. Saline implants tended to feel like balloons under your muscle, but these actually feel like having real breast tissue again. They’re soft, squishy and even I want to play with them. I’m digging out sundresses and looking forward to being able to run again, even if I have to wear three bras. 🙂

If you’re on the fence and trying to decide: Feel free to email me if you have any questions. ♥