I sat on the edge of the bed, facing away from him. "Ready?" I asked. "I'm ready," he replied, the unwavering tone of his voice giving me a sense of surety. I turned my body to face him. He studied my single breast, then the inverted contour and long scar (I call it my "badge of courage") on the other side with attentiveness and gentleness. Turning his warm gaze toward my eyes, he whispered, "You're beautiful," as he embraced me with all the tenderness and passion that has become us.
It was that easy. I wasn't always sure it would be after my divorce. My (ex) husband had been so understanding and wonderful. But when he left, I had to grapple with the questions that all "single-boobed, single babes" face. Will anyone find me attractive? will anyone be able to look past the cancer and the scars and see the real me?
Of course I had near lost sight of my beauty. To me, having lost a breast never equated with the loss of my femininity, my sensuality, my strength. It was all there. It is all there. Funny thing is, my personal body image is much better now than it was before. In the past it was always, "I need to lose a few pounds," or "My boobs are uneven." Now I look in the mirror and think, "You look damn good." Even the times - and there are many - when I "forget" and surprise myself looking in the mirror, I have to smile.
We smile a lot, Rob and I. We'll be married April twentieth. - Susan