This is the first picture of me without my breasts. They served me well for 34 years. They were multi-purposeful. They had an adventurous fulfilling life.
In my youngers years, they seemed to attract the eyes of people so much that they would shift stares from my eyes to my breast repeatedly. In middle school, annoying hormonal boys would taunt me because I had a well endowed chest. Then were pierced at age 17 illegally.
In my early twenties they saw many a nude beach in the Virgin Islands. They were drawn by aspiring figure artists to help pay for my own figure drawing group dues. They were artfully photographed, framed, and displayed in an art show in Portland, ME.
In my mid twenties, they were tattooed with Oni Japanses masks. The clothed, tattooed breasts were in featured in many tattoo magazines
to model the beautiful artwork.
Then in my thirties, they were used to feed my babies. They fed those babies well. Lactation was one things those breasts were great at. But the cancer grew in the right one, and I opted to take them both together for symmetry purpose and less of a chance for growing the cancer in the other side. They would go together like Thelma and Louise.
Thelma: Let's keep goin'!
Louise: What d'you mean?
Thelma: Go. [nods ahead of them]
Louise: You sure?