“It’s not always about being pretty. Pretty is an element, a tool in the arsenal.
But it’s not always about pretty – though it’s always about telling a story.
And it’s always about change.” – JR Blackwell (http://jrblackwell.com)
Being Pretty is a big part of what got me where I am. I was obsessed with Pretty; having pretty boobs. So much so that that I allowed a substandard hack to cut on one of the most intimate parts of my body in the pursuit of Pretty.
Not only did I allow it, in the days leading up to the BA and lift, I REVELED in it. I bathed in it as though it were silvered moonlit waters. I allowed my obsession with Pretty to take control of my life and slice away my better judgment like so much dead wood. I FORCED what I wanted, twisted the workings of the world and bent it to my will because by damn I was going to have pretty breasts if it killed me.
Oh, foolish, foolish child that I was. Little did I know then that it very nearly did.
As JR says, Pretty is an element. It is an ideal that women aspire to. After all, what are you if you’re not Pretty?
And so we buy cosmetics to mask our flaws. We swallow diet pills that cause liver damage or heart failure and torture ourselves on weight machines until our muscles cry out for mercy. We spend money we don’t have on that perfect dress or those must-have shoes. We twist and warp ourselves in the pursuit of that ultimate goal: To Be Pretty.
Some of us even take that extra step. We allow ourselves to be sliced open in origami shapes and pieced back together in pursuit of Pretty.
An Anchor Breast Lift is precisely that my friends. That tender soft flesh on the underside of your breast, that sweet, innocent crease where he (or she) likes to plant delicate kisses when you make love, is sliced open. Then another cut in the tender underside of your breast is made up the center. And a third around your soft, rosy areola and nipple.
Suddenly you have become a living puzzle in the pursuit of Pretty. And you’d best pray they can put Humpty Dumpty together again.
Because when they don’t, Pretty goes out the window and you will NEVER be the same.
They tell you that before surgery. Before they perform their surgical origami, feats of modern magic in the pursuit of Pretty, they tell you that You Will Never Be The Same.
And people say there are no psychics.
Those words are true beyond telling.
Even if things go perfectly and your enhancements look totally natural, You Will Never Be The Same. Perhaps this is why you chased down Pretty like a pack of hounds after a fox. Perhaps, like me, you didn’t like You. Perhaps you did.
In either case, you have been changed. You have Changed.
I nearly died in my pursuit of Pretty.
Pretty is just that. But it is also a monstrous beast with a maw full of razor bright fangs that will rip to shreds anyone it find unworthy. In the mind’s mirror we can see it eying us critically over our shoulder. Waiting for any sign of weakness so that it can rip and rend and tear. Or worse, crack the mirror so all we see is a broken reflection: an inaccurate, twisted image of ourselves.
Pretty is a brutal, unforgiving Mistress.
As JR says, however, it is always about change.
My pursuit of Pretty nearly killed me. Because of that horror, that despair and that spirit crushing time in my life, I am changed. I no longer wish to be Pretty. I accept myself for who and what I am. I love and cherish myself. I REVEL in being me.
In that love and acceptance I have found; in that change that came to pass in myself; I am SO much more than Pretty.