For the longest time, I thought I just wanted a boob job.
Since I was a teenager, I hated having small boobs. Especially because every woman in my family seemed to be blessed with larger chests. I was the exception, left behind, teased, and constantly aware of what I didn’t have. Even my boyfriends at the time tried to “make me feel better” about it. I still remember one saying, “More than a handful’s too much.” I laughed it off, but it stayed with me.
Then, for the longest time, I thought I just wanted a BBL.
Big booties were in, and suddenly I was being compared to women with curves in all the places I didn’t have them. When I lost weight and got down to 100 pounds (after losing more than 100 pounds), it was at the exact time when hourglass shapes and peach booties were trending. Even though I had worked so hard after dealing with years of being overweight, I still didn’t “fit.”
I remember another guy telling me I was “proportional” as if being disproportional would’ve made me more desirable. That one stung, too.
After having babies, everything changed again. That was when I realized that my body wasn’t mine anymore.
And honestly, I’ve never stopped talking about surgery since. The conversation kept evolving from a boob job, to a BBL, to a tummy tuck until I realized I needed all of it. My pregnancies were high-risk, both because of how much fluid my body held and how drastically it changed me. My stomach stretched beyond what skin can forgive. My breasts swelled and deflated twice over. My hips shifted. My posture collapsed. I’ve been in physical pain and trying to feel “normal” ever since.
My truth: surgery has become this constant want and need in my life. I’ve always known I’d do this one day.
Not out of vanity, but out of wanting to come back home to myself. It’s a resurrection. What I’ve learned recently is that this collection of procedures—breast augmentation, BBL, tummy tuck—is called a Mommy Makeover.
So far from just wanting a boob job in high school.
It’s become something deeper: a full-circle return to the woman I’ve always been becoming. I don’t want to hate myself in every photo. I want to feel like I finally caught up to who I see in my head.
I started this page as a metric-free space to share my story, no likes, no comments, no algorithms.
Just me. My journey. Unfiltered.
Not perfect. Not polished.
Just honest.
This is the beginning.