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Boooo Cancer. You suck!

I'm going to kick your ass.

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Montreal, to be precise! If you’re anywhere nearby or know someone who is I hope that you will check out our film! It’s the result of a lot of love and hard work and we are very proud to have the chance to keep sharing it with people. Hopefully that means YOU! Please feel free to pass this along to anyone you know who might be able to attend one of our screenings. Or both! Thank you! 

The poster for the States of Minds Film Festival in Tel Aviv is out and our film is on the front! Too cool! I’m so happy for everyone involved and really excited to be a part of the fest! 

The poster for the States of Minds Film Festival in Tel Aviv is out and our film is on the front! Too cool! I’m so happy for everyone involved and really excited to be a part of the fest! 

I am so SO happy to be able to share with all of you the trailer for our film, Lily! Hooray!! Hopefully one day soon I can share the whole film with you. For now, I really hope that you enjoy this beautiful little trailer. I am so proud of our film and just couldn’t be happier with the way it turned out. It’s been such a wonderful experience. Now if you will please excuse me I am going to watch this a few hundred more times while pinching myself because I can hardly believe it’s real! 

I made a video! Whoopadeedoo! This guy was having the time of his life in the fountain at Washington Square Park today. He was so happy just playing in the water. Little did he know how happy he made everyone who was watching him play! There were smiles all around. I thought I’d share some of his puppy magic with you. Hope you all had a great weekend! 

Normally I would never post something like this on my blog, but I had to write something when I saw the title of this article: 

"Eight Celebrities Whose Gorgeous Looks Make Up For Their Tiny Breasts"

Really? Make up for? Houston, we have a problem here. It’s the phrase “make up for” that really got to me. As if having smaller breasts was something you needed to be forgiven for somehow. It’s this kind of thinking that does nothing to help women or girls with their image of themselves. It’s this kind of thinking that I feel I’m up against when stressing that I want to keep my breasts small and not get anything bigger than what I already have. In fact I’m willing to go smaller if need be! Why? I like having small boobs! They fit my body! I’m totally comfortable with my breast size. I love my small boobs! It’s ridiculous to think that you’d have to somehow compensate for having smaller breasts with say… a good sense of humor, a pretty face, or a nice body. What the heck kind of reasoning is that? And from what appears to be a women’s website, no less!! 

One of the people I spoke to regarding surgery mentioned (when I said I did not want implants) that if I used the tissue I had on me now that I would hardly have enough to make a pair of breasts. I would look “almost flat chested”. So? What’s wrong with that? Whose version of beautiful are we talking about? I hardly have much there as it is and I like it that way! I’m totally fine with not having lots of cleavage or looking not so well endowed from the side. That’s just one person’s idea of beauty and it’s a very limiting one at that. 

We have got to stop thinking that one body type fits all. We come in all shapes and sizes. It’s not up to somebody else to tell us what is the best for everyone. I would look insane with bigger boobs. Plus I’d probably fall over because my balance would be all out of whack. Time to lay off of each other a little bit. Us ladies are lovely in whatever package we come in! Let’s celebrate that instead of making people feel they have to work harder to impress people because their boobs are small. Seriously? C’mon! Now, back to my reading so I can boost my vocabulary to distract people lest someone notice how small my breasts are…

Call Back

Today I heard back from the Breast Center in New Orleans. They got all my information and wanted to ask me a few questions to clarify things. The woman I spoke to was very nice but made sure that I knew that they did not accept Medicaid and therefore I would be paying out of pocket. I still have NO idea how I am going to do so when the time comes but I suppose that is something I will have to worry about when it happens, not just yet. 

I got a little nervous as she was speaking to me about everything. I kind of got the impression that even she thought I might be too thin to do what I wanted to do. I don’t get it. I only want small boobs, not big gigantic ones! Surely I have enough jiggly bits lying around to just put them all together and make two new boobs for me? Yes? No? I’m feeling like the odds are against me. I told her that if at all possible I did not want to get implants. I want to basically exhaust my resources in regards to finding places that might be able to help me and then I can try to start dealing with the possible reality of implants. Just not now. I’m not ready to deal with that yet. I’m just not. Every time I think about it I start to feel sick to my stomach. If I can use my own tissue then that is what I want to do. Yet even that makes me feel queasy at times. I look at before and after galleries and think “Great, now I’ll have even more scars on my body.” Yeah, yeah… they are something to be proud of. I just need time to get to a point where I accept that. I’m not trying to sound bitter or anything, but there’s no real “good” choice here as far as I’m concerned. On the one hand, with implants I might have less scarring since they’re just inserting the implants under my skin. On the other hand, with the tissue donation that I have convinced myself I am more comfortable with, I am left with scars at the donor site and on my boobs. It’s really a no win situation. 

Of course I realize the obvious “win” here would be my life. This goes back to the old head trickery where I go around in circles with the same old dialogue which goes something like this:

Maybe I won’t get cancer again. Maybe I’ll be totally fine and then I would have chopped off my breasts for nothing. You never know, Amy. Nobody can tell you for certain what will happen. The odds are not in your favor. But what if they aren’t entirely out of my favor either?! What if I do all of this, put myself through all of this and then it wasn’t my destiny to get cancer again anyhow. What if I do all of this and then I end up getting freaking skin cancer or something instead?! I wish someone could tell me what will definitely happen, but nobody can. 

And on and on and on. This pretty much plays on repeat with the occasional change or substitution every now and then. 

The people from New Orleans are going to send me instructions on what kind of photos I should take of myself to send in to them. We are going to try to do as much of the consulting from our respective locations as possible. That saves me a little bit of money as I can’t really afford a trip to go see a surgeon for ten minutes right this second. I guess we’ll see what they have to say. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.


1: simultaneous and contradictory attitudes or feelings towards an object, person, or action

2 a: continual fluctuation (as between one thing and it’s opposite) 

   b: uncertainty as to which approach to follow

That pretty much sums up how I feel lately. Not so much about myself, but about my breasts. I’m going to get personal in this post. I know that sounds funny considering the amount of personal information I put on this blog, but I don’t always get into how I am feeling deep down. I don’t always talk about the lingering effect that some things have on me. 

Ever since the realization sunk in (which it hasn’t all the way, surprisingly) that I would have to undergo a double mastectomy I have felt a disconnect from my breasts. It’s almost as if I am mad at them. Like I’m giving them the silent treatment. I look at them and I think “you really let me down.” I feel like I don’t even care that they are there anymore. I never really gave them too much thought to begin with, but I was always glad they were there. I mean, generally speaking, I like my breasts. I think they’re just the right size for me and for the most part we’ve always gotten along fine. I like to think I was there for them through two surgeries and we came out of that alright. And now look how they repay me! Traitors! 

I’ve started to feel distinctly un-sexy. That’s a strange term for me to even use since the last word I would ever use when describing myself would be sexy. Yet, that is exactly how I feel. Supremely un-sexy. I know, I know… your breasts don’t define who you are. I get that. But until you are going through something like this (and I haven’t even gone through it yet!) you can’t begin to imagine the way your brain starts to work overtime to imagine a you without that part of you. I’ve begun to feel as if they are already gone. It’s like I no longer think of myself as having breasts. I know that sounds nuts, but it’s true. I feel… nothing. Sometimes I will be walking along the street and just feel gross. Unattractive. Damaged goods. I know that this is not the case. But we’re not talking about stone cold logic now are we? We’re talking about emotions, which are about as far  away from the land of logic as you can imagine. My brain says, “Amy, you’ll be fine. You know that you’re still a wonderful person no matter what is happening or what will happen,” but my heart (or whatever is rebelling against my brain to defy logic) likes to think otherwise. 

It’s summer outside so it’s hot. Girls wear little tank tops or dresses and I find I can’t help but think how lucky they are to get to keep their breasts. No one will ever look at them and see huge scars on their breasts. They’ll never have to feel as if they’ve been put back together piece by piece to kind of resemble what they used to look like before things went bad. I can’t help feeling a little sting of envy. It is the first time I have thought the words “why me?” I can’t stress enough that I know all of this is not entirely true. I know that no one will think me a monster because of the way that I look and that I am more than just my breasts. I know that. But you know what? I still have to look at myself in the mirror and accept and re-define how I feel about myself as a sexual/desirable human being. I haven’t even had the surgery and already I am turned off by seeing myself naked. Not even turned off, I just think “meh”. 

Maybe this is healthy. Maybe my mind is trying to protect me by detaching myself emotionally from my breasts. Maybe it’s a survival mode of some sorts. I don’t know what it is, I just know it doesn’t feel good. I don’t know when I’ll finally get this surgery, I just know that I’ll have to. I feel gross about the whole situation and I don’t like it. Ah well. Such is life. I guess we all have to face things we’d rather not face and try to keep ourselves together somehow. It’ll be fine. I’m just having an off day. Maybe a nice long walk outside will help. 

A lot of music on this blog lately. But what’s life without a little music in it?! Music is one of the constants in my life. No matter what’s going on I know there’s always a song waiting to make me feel better. Here’s one I’ve been listening to a lot lately. 

A lovely little ditty for your Sunday afternoon. Hope everyone is having a nice weekend. 

HOORAY! Lily is going to the Deauville Film Festival in France! We are very honored to be a part of the competition. C’est magnifique!

HOORAY! Lily is going to the Deauville Film Festival in France! We are very honored to be a part of the competition. C’est magnifique!

Nº. 1 of  162