Could I Go Under The Knife?

I have joined a fantastic group of ladies, who are involved in a weekly blog project. Every Thursday, we will dazzle you with our insight on various topics. And each week, we take turns coming up with the idea for the blog topic. Please check out their blogs as well, listed under my Blogroll section. Just click on:

Froggie (Tracey): An experiment in knitting, writing- and life

Merry Land Girl (Melissa): Tales of a suburban mom who likes to talk about pop culture, books, Judaism, family, friendship and anything else that comes to mind.

Mom Of Many (Susanna): One Mom’s perspective on life, raising kids, knitting and other unrelated topics.

I picked the topic for this week:   Would you consider plastic surgery? If so, what type? Why would you, or why wouldn’t you?

Genetics can be a real blessing, or a real curse, depending on what you’ve got in your DNA.

My mother and I have very similar body shapes. Both of us are 5 foot, 6 inches tall. Now, I haven’t seen my mother in a very long time, so I am going by memory here, but both of us are on the skinnier side. We don’t collect weight in our middles. Small breasts. We collect our weight in our backsides and in our thighs.

To give my dad some credit here, I inherited his pudgy feet. My feet are small and wide, shoe size 6 1/2 respectively.

Growing up, I watched my mother’s body change after each child she had. I was her first. She had four more after me. When I was a teenager, she and I were in her bedroom one day, and she was changing- and I noticed her breasts. They were exactly what you would imagine for a woman who had bore five children, but it just scared the crap out of me. I could go into more detail, but out of respect I won’t. It was then and there that I swore to myself that if mine were to get out of hand, I’d get a breast lift.

This is no secret. I’ve told my friends this when we’ve had a “would you ever get plastic surgery” conversation. I’ve told my ex husbands when we were still married. Kevin knows how I feel as well. This might sound vain, but I don’t care.

As of today (hold on, let me check….) I don’t need a breast lift. After my two boys, I have noticed some subtle differences, but not enough to where I’d run off and get a lift. I think I have certainly mellowed out, and come to appreciate the fact that I am in my 30’s, and my body won’t ever look like it did when I was a teenager, or even in my 20’s, and I am perfectly fine with that. Kevin also appreciates the way I look, and has no issues with my body. He thinks I look fantastic as is.

As for my lower half… not once have I considered getting liposuction. Not ever. Every woman looks at herself in the mirror and sees some trouble areas. I see mine and think, “gotta do more toning workouts.” But it’s not the end all for me. This is my body. I couldn’t even imagine getting any fat sucked out from my ass or my thighs. It’s true, I don’t really like to wear shorts or short skirts. I know that I look better wearing long skirts and long pants, or jeans. I dress my body according to what looks best on me. My midsection is smokin’, so I’ll wear something to enhance that- and isn’t that what it’s about? We are all built so differently, and it’s about wearing clothes that makes us feel and look great, no matter what type of body we have!

 

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