Sunday night I went through my closet and pulled out the rest of the big, baggy summer clothes and the boy jeans that I had left over from before my breast reconstruction. After looking at clothes online I came to the abrupt realization that I was sick of dressing like a boy. About half of the time I’ve been in baggy jean shorts and tank tops or over-sized t-shirts since the reconstruction.
My regular readers may remember a mental debate I was having a couple months before surgery last year. It was about whether I was dressing like a boy because I didn’t have breasts or because I had always had that tendency.
I know now that dressing in big, baggy clothes was more camouflage than anything else. I was trying my best to ignore the wreckage that was my chest. At the same time I was trying not to expose others to that horror. So I wore thicker fabric so the deformed tissue didn’t show. In the summer I was always very conscious of whether or not the ripples of deformed flesh showed. Living in Florida it’s not like you can wear heavy clothes during the summer. Even heavy tshirts get really unbearable after just a short while.
The positive response to my adventures with flashing in the French Quarter have really inspired me to dress in clothes that actually FIT. I think that moving further away from hiding myself away is part of the emotional healing that I’m still going through.
So the big floppy jeans and shorts are in the donate pile. I’ll probably go through my closet once more when it gets cooler and weed out what turns out to be more boy clothes then.