Women on how to get used to themselves after plastic surgery
We, of course, understand that ideas about beauty change over time, from epoch to epoch, and the standards of glossy magazines are gradually lagging behind the ideas of diversity, but it is still difficult for many to fall in love with their appearance as it is. Some decide on drastic and radical changes. We talked with several women who underwent plastic surgery, about how the idea was born to change everything and whether their attitude to themselves changed after that.
Only after having had plastic surgery, I wondered if this was really necessary and what pushed me to it. For some people, it will probably sound absurd, but before the operation I had only one thought - to get rid of the "ugly" breast. I didn’t think about what would happen afterwards, though, from time to time, fear rolled in on me that I could die on the operating table — even though I understood that there were no real prerequisites for this.
I went to the operation in Armenia, to the clinic that my friend advised. I had no other recommendations, but I was also afraid that if I began to study the question and look for the right doctor, it could last forever and the operation would never happen. I had to save money for the trip for half a year, and I only thought about my breasts for whole days. I was sure that after the operation I would love her as much as possible, because now she will be beautiful. Or maybe not very beautiful, but I will still love her.
I already had the experience of a small body modification: I did a tattoo when I was seventeen years old. I knew that the time would pass and I could perhaps regret what I had done - so I firmly decided to love this tattoo as a part of myself, by all means, and never reduce it, because now it is part of my body. But the idea of loving my breasts the way I already had — albeit saggy, but without scars, with blurred, but sensitive areola nipples — for some reason did not occur to me. Maybe the fact that the chest prevented me from living: to sleep, play sports, have sex, wear beautiful clothes and undress on the beach. To love a breast simply for the fact that it is mine seemed complete nonsense.
After the operation, I was really happy, everything went much easier and easier than I thought. Probably, I was very glad that everything was over and that I was still alive. Nothing was required of me - just follow the instructions. The postoperative period went very smoothly: the first three days were a little dizzy, and then everything went away. In the clinic, when I was stitched, I saw many patients who were discharged after rhinoplasty (this is the most popular operation in Armenia), and it was definitely more difficult for them than for me. Unlike them, I ate, drank, breathed and slept without difficulty, and no one could tell by my appearance that I had just undergone plastic surgery.
The period of wound healing was psychologically difficult, because it happens unevenly. The chest looked asymmetric. At some point I was scared that my nipples were made too small, there were threads around, and the areola itself was no more than a five-ruble coin. I was going through two weeks, right up to the moment when the stitches were removed: the edema was already a bit asleep, the stitches did not look so monstrously bloody, the areola turned out to be quite the usual size.
It was very difficult to throw the first timid look at the “new” breast: the hematomas-colored skin, protruding wires, rough seams, the nipple of the blue color - in general, the spectacle is not for the faint of heart. Especially depressed by the fact that you yourself did this with your body. And it was this that marked the beginning of my path to love — to my body and to myself. Before, I was always dissatisfied with myself, but, seeing what wounds this discontent left, I suddenly felt pity. In the end, my body gives me the opportunity to move, have fun, create something, hug! Well, let it not be conventionally beautiful, I am still grateful to him.
It has been a year since the operation - I am still sad to look at the scars, I try not to look at the chest, so as not to look for flaws in it and not be upset. And yet I am glad that I did the operation, because now I value my appearance as it is.
Deep down I still don’t like my nose. It is believed that very many patients remain dissatisfied with the results of rhinoplasty: after breast augmentation, almost everyone is happy, and the nose is much more serious. I know that there is such a mental disorder - dysmorphophobia, this is hatred for some kind of deficiency in my body. A great many of those who go to plastic surgery clinics suffer from dysmorphophobia. These people will never be happy with their appearance, because the cause of dissatisfaction lies elsewhere.
After I made myself plastic, it was impossible to break away from looking at my nose. I have already decided that I have dysmorphophobia. All the "ideal" noses of friends and movie stars no longer seem ideal to me, what can we say about your own. It is almost impossible to just take it easy and calm down, because the nose is always visible. The temptation to accuse the surgeon of all mortal sins haunts me every day, but I hold on. The sight of my nose tormented me all my life, I really hated him and believed that everything would change after the operation. But this did not happen - although objectively my nose now almost corresponds to my ideal. It struck me when I realized that whatever it was, I would not love him anyway. The point is not in appearance, but in our attitude towards her.
The recovery period after rhinoplasty is simply terrible: it is impossible to breathe and eat normally. It is very painful and hard. Teeth hurt because the facial nerve cannot recover from the operation. I was thinking of remaking my nose, but afterwards I realized that I could not suddenly love myself, even if I did a hundred operations. Of course, I am very glad that I did the operation, even now I don’t think it was necessary. If I were lucky then to find a good psychotherapist, I might have changed my outlook on my appearance. Now I try to recognize that whatever change happens to her, everything must be taken with joy, otherwise you can just go crazy. You can find a flaw in anything, but you can also love anything.
For the past fifteen years I have been living in Paris, here, it seems to me, the cult of beauty. While I was living in Russia, the idea of plastic surgery did not even occur to me. But here everything is different - and the age of a woman is not perceived as a sentence. They don’t hide him, because he doesn’t scare anyone - it’s just difficult to determine how old a woman is if she follows fashion trends, cares for herself and just enjoys life. For example, breastfeeding here is fed no longer than a year, most often it lasts 4-6 months - because it is more important to have a beautiful breast. Although it is known that pregnancy is not affected by breastfeeding, it is simply not accepted here, because the role of the mother never outweighs the role of the woman. And let, in general, French women rather harmoniously combine different roles, I still think that this prevents many from living. Thinness here - a symbol of success. It seems to me that a girl with more weight will be much harder to get a job, even if she is applying for a job as a cashier.
As for getting used to the new look - for me it was a joy. Without bags under your eyes, you immediately look twenty years younger, fresher, fresher, and more benevolent. There are no consequences from the operation: I practically did not see the seams, there were some thin scratches that disappeared in just two weeks. Then, after three years, I decided to make a tightening - though this is also a simple operation. From her left scars, but in an inconspicuous place, so it does not bother me. The question of accepting myself is not worth it: I have long made friends with my body, we are allies. I do everything to help him, and my body helps me in return. It is much more difficult to come to terms with natural changes, with signs of aging. And you just admire smooth skin: every morning I look at myself in the mirror and I am happy, it really cheers me up.
I have four children - and the last two were born at the same time. My stomach was so huge that it was just necessary to have a lift operation. It was not even about the ideas of beauty: it was impossible to hide the belly in any clothes. In my opinion, after birth, plastic surgery is no longer frightening. I just came to the clinic, I was operated on, the next day I returned home. Before that, I had a scar after a cesarean, to which I didn’t have to get used to it: there were so many worries that self-care went to the last plan. I just put up with many changes in the body. And they didn’t particularly depress me.
I hate the image of Natasha Rostova, but it seems to me that her description on the last pages of "War and Peace" was great like me. I wanted something radical. I chose breast augmentation surgery - I did it four years ago, I do not remember exactly. And it had a strong influence on me: I didn’t have such a breast before the birth of children, so I began to feel like a different person. Everything seemed to start anew. I wanted to dye my hair, to do myself at all, I began to go for cosmetic procedures. In general, getting used to the new breast made me finally pay attention to myself, because it was impossible to simply ignore the operated breast: I had to change all underwear, buy special cosmetics, behave more carefully. With implants, nothing heavy can be lifted, so take care of yourself.
I have scars in the crease of my chest, but I’m calm about them. Although they are still red, "immature", so I'm going to go for a special procedure for healing, and then I will polish them so that they are equal to the skin. I believe that if there is an objective reason, then the plastic is worth doing. I guessed that the positive psychological effect of the operation may not last long, but in fact he marked the beginning of a series of new events that qualitatively changed my life and my attitude to myself.
Photo:YakobchukOlena - stock.adobe.com, Karramba Production - stock.adobe.com