I AM Home and Home is ME

Covid saved my bacon.

Ignored mammogram paperwork on my bulletin board for two years.

Dismissive and invincible on the outside, avoidant on the inside.

Family history = fear.

I looked at the paper as I packed my desk to go work from home.

Covid lockdown 2.0 on its way.

I knew if I left it I would never find the requisition again- a little voice inside said, 'book it now Jen.'

Within four days of that baseline mammogram, I got a call to come back for ‘more tests’ and within four days of that-a biopsy was ordered.

Shiiiiiit.

The moment I got my diagnosis I knew that I did not want to die.

Why did I allow the voice of my depression to speak so freely and uncensored in my psyche, “I don’t like this life,” she whispered to me, “I don’t want to live anymore, it's too hard.” Though I had never spoken those words out loud my body would have always been listening to my depressive thoughts.

Cancer gave me a mother fucking tune up in this area.

The diagnosis bitch slapped me.

I remember grabbing my chest protectively when I knew I was going to lose my breasts, realizing that I had missed my chance to get to know them.

I sacrificed my breasts for peace of mind and to be free of cancer quick and dirty.

I had a little love affair with my breasts leading up to surgery to say good-bye.

I danced wildly and shaked those beautiful tatas at least an hour a day and delighted in every sensation they gave.

I had fun with my breasts for the first time in my life.

I giggled with them and I delighted in them.

Morning and night I meditated and massaged my breasts and savoured the sensual pleasure that my breasts could offer.

In this month leading up to surgery I begged my body for forgiveness in worship of pleasure and I had fun with my body as a daily ritual to say sorry.

I expressed my love and gratitude to it by cultivating pleasure and thanking it by allowing it to express pleasure freely and teach me my own deepest gifts in the process.

Sigh, let’s take a moment of silence for those beauties, may they rest in peace. My surgery took place on February 26, 2021.

I meditated and drank in all that breast pleasure while I was saying good-bye and the privilege I have received from that experience is that I will not waste any more time in life hating myself.

My body is my home. My body is my temple, it is my safe place.

Between Cancer and the isolation of Covid I had to learn to love myself in order to live with myself in isolation through such a scary event. Now I am pretty much a legend in my own mind.

Within 6 weeks of my surgery I was beginning to feel pleasure awaken amidst the pain in my reconstructed breasts. I have full sensation and the ability to orgasm with each breast as if I still had nipples! I am a goddess-damn walking miracle! And you can bet I strut accordingly!

My body is an expression of love and it emmanates love.

It is perfect for me.

I love my home.

I am home.

Everyday I dance with my new reconstructed breasts, I make them jiggle and that makes me giggle.

Thank you Cancer for teaching me to love and finding home in my body.

I love you. I am sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you.