been a year…

This post was meant to be published last week. Right as I was hitting the button, I got a not-so-good feeling, a nagging feeling. I had a little thought, that turned into a bigger thought, that turned into millions of thoughts, that turned into a bit of a crisis.
I sort of tried to worked through the crisis with the help of Sir, and Cailin, and yesterday’s post, though I wreaked some havoc along the way. Even now, five days later, I’m still not entirely settled. I still feel the way I feel. Sigh. I’m sure all of you aren’t surprised!
I don’t enjoy this way I’m feeling, in fact, I don’t like feeling much at all. So! Feelings be damned! Maybe the best way to deal with the issues I am having is just to laugh in spite of them and say fuck it, it means nothing anyway.
So that’s what I’m doing.
Fuck it.
Here is the original silly post, crisis-catalyst picture and all:

I got these boobs of mine a year ago!!
I’d post a before picture…but… no, no I wouldn’t. Nobody needs to see that!


It has been a journey that I wasn’t quite expecting or prepared for. A test in strength and patience and endurance. A challenge to my high pain tolerance. An emotional roller coaster.

Most days, I still don’t think of these boobs as mine, but more like separate entities. Maybe that will go away, maybe it won’t. One day, maybe the random pains will completely disappear too. Perhaps the scars will fade even more. Who knows!?

What I do know is this…
I have no regrets. Not a single one.

I am thankful for my boobs, but even more thankful for Sir. The upgrade had been long time coming and He made it happen. He helped me more than I could ever express… Not just with the initial recovery, but with the extreme emotions, the continuing pain, the fear, the exercise trauma, on and on. His patience and understanding held me up when I wanted to fold. He is my tree, my charger. I am forever grateful and forever His, so I guess these boobs are His as well. ūüėČ

Happy first Birthday to my/Sir’s boobs!
( * ) ( * )


I did it!! That was the post, nothing special, but the beginning of a major crisis. Let the pieces fall where they may because I still feel the same.

Happy Tuesday.
Just keep swimming.

prelude to a trip


Leaving is not my favorite thing.
The travelling is not the greatest, but I like the arriving well enough.
The final destination makes me very happy. This time around, it has been too long in between.
But the leaving? Oh it is HARD.

Getting ready to leave requires extensive work.
There are lists, on top of lists, on top of lists.
There is shopping to be done, schedules to be made, plans to get in order.

There are feelings that must dealt with, for months, weeks, days.
There is joy and excitement.
There is anxiety, fear, and some sadness.
There is self-esteem to be bolstered, walls to put up, walls to knock down.
There is worry. And doubt. And questions.

There is a lot of fucking to be done.
There are many spankings to be received.
There is an abundance of love to be shared.

There are kids’ feelings to soothe.
There are apologies to make.
There are many thanks to give.

There are words! Kind words, comforting words.
There are words of ownership, words of love.
There are very many dirty words.

There are expectations.
There is pressure.
There are nerves and doubts.
There are overwhelming feelings and underwhelming reflections.

There are lists. Did I already mention the lists?
Packing lists, revised packing lists, school lists, activity¬†lists, work lists, more packing lists… so many lists!!!!!!

I know I am a baby. I also know this leaving business is HARD.
Leaving is the only choice available to me right now.
So I will suck it up and I will leave.
I will focus on the destination and look forward to the arrival.
I cannot wait to get there!!

this cannot go on forever.



Thinking [boob time] Thursday


It’s been a long time coming, only a week in the works… I got new boobs today!


I was determined that it’d be a simple, easy recovery from the get go. I may be shy, but I’m also pretty tough… with a high pain tolerance level.

No. Wrong. Looks like I’m a baby.

High hopes fell by the wayside almost immediately.I’m drugged up and in pain. I look like a Lego body under this big ol’ shirt (I don’t dare take a peek) and moving a pillow takes entirely too long. My chest has apparently been run over by a dump truck, and I think they put bricks in there instead of silicon.

Despite all that… I can’t wait to see my real boobs! Because as far as I’m concerned, my sad, deflated tits (thanks, kids!) were the fake ones.

I’m so very grateful to my Sir for making this happen for me and to my little bird for being by my side, despite this intolerable distance.


Happy Thursday, folks! It’s time for my ten minute nap.

~ shygirl 💕