I am getting my breast implants removed next week…

I have had a weight on my chest for the last couple of months. I remember talking to my girlfriend Gloria and describing it as, “There is just this big heaviness, right here, on my chest.” The death of my stepdad and brother in the course of a week weighing on me.

It reminded me of that scene in Tommy Boy where Tommy has a huge mark on his face. Richard asks, “Where does it hurt?” and Tommy guides his hand over the mark, saying, “It doesn’t seem to be here or here. It seems to be right here.” That’s exactly how I felt. The pain wasn’t so much in my stomach or head anymore; it was right across my chest, heavy and unyielding. I had prepared myself for stepdad’s passing, but nothing could have prepared me for the loss of my brother.

And, at the very same time in life, I have gained a wealth of knowledge about trauma. Which means, all of the superpowers (I tell myself this) that I have from trauma—oversharing, avoidance, hypervigilance, reassurance, dissociation, etc.—are on high alert. And every time I see a trauma response, I can’t help but say, “That’s a trauma response.” A comment that I am sure my family is so very tired of hearing. The comments are more of an excitement of understanding and awareness of things overlooked before.

Similar to Bradley Cooper’s character in Silver Linings Playbook. Remember that scene; Bradley Cooper’s character hops in the car with his Dad who is having a mind bending OCD moment, teetering on rage. Bradley Cooper pauses, looks at his dad and you can almost see the moment it happens. That lightbulb moment of realization. Bradley recognizes that his own behavior mirrors his Dad’s. It’s a powerful scene, that epiphany, recognizing the inherited patterns; nature vs. nurture.

It was such a powerful scene because it also made me feel less isolated. Someone else, this character in this movie, had similar moments of understanding, awareness, aha moments. Since returning home after 18 years away, I’ve had many of those “Aha!” moments that remind me of my roots, behaviors I’ve adopted from my upbringing that I both want to embrace and reject. As Michael P. Nicholas, PhD, writes in *The Lost Art of Listening*, “More than we like to realize, we continue to live in the shadow of the families we grew up in.”

These reflections led me to a significant decision: “I am getting my breast implants removed.”

I was standing in my brothers house. The lights were bright and my Mom was cleaning again. She had stayed busy constantly moving since my brother had passed. His house still had him in it. It still felt as if he would walk around the corner at any minute, “Hey you guys! What are you doing?” he would often yell as soon as he saw you. Always with a big smile, energy and warmth. The first sentence was quickly followed by something funny he would say. We would then play fight with me usually saying, “You know I can still take you.” He would chuckle as if to signal a knowing of “yeah right.”

One of his arms was like solid rock. He could literally pick up 200 pound stones and move them like they were 30 pounds. He reminded me of Tom Hardy in Lawless—strong, protective, and quietly wise. When he spoke, it was always filled with laughter or profound insights and if provoked he could easily instill fear if he chose to show that side.

“Mom, I am getting my breast implants removed.” She paused in her cleaning, looking at me with concern. “Why?” I explained, “They just feel heavy to me.” It felt as if I had lived a thousand lifetimes since I made the decision to get them, and now, I simply wanted to just be me. Me without the heaviness, without these foreign objects in me, me without the lives of women I had lived many years before.

I initially got the implants under the delusion that they would somehow make me more valuable. In the photo I’m sharing, I was competing in Las Vegas for a tanning lotion contract, money, and prizes. At that moment, standing on stage with hundreds of ladies standing around me, it felt like I was the only competitor without breast implants. I made it into the top ten but didn’t claim the top spot. I’ve always had this nagging belief that my value increased with my attractiveness, and after that competition, I felt that lacking implants meant I was less appealing.

Wow, how things have changed! I now find beauty in authenticity, honesty, kindness, stepping outside of comfort zones, curiosity, reading, quietness, learning new things, laughter, spiritual connections, nature, aging, travel, and deep conversations (endless things). There are so many aspects of life where I now see beauty that I had forgotten—beauty that doesn’t rely on superficial perfection.

Every admirable characteristic my brother possessed is what truly defines beauty and now, that is what I want.