I got $20,000 worth of plastic surgery this year

Shayla Madha | December 28, 2021

Yes I really did spend $20k on plastic surgery this year but let me explain! It was extremely necessary. I really really really needed a BBL. No I’m just kidding, my procedure was much more serious. But first let me take you back in time. 

The year is 2010 and I’m in the fourth grade. My parents drop me off at school and 9 year old Shayla makes her way to class, however, I must make a crucial stop at the bathroom before. I unzip my rolly backpack and retrieve two child-sized gloves. What do I do with these gloves? I shove them straight into my bra. Perfect. Now I have boobs. In retrospect I have no idea why I did this. I was only 9 years old, why did I care about having boobs? No one else had boobs. I don’t know why but every day I would strut into the fourth grade with a stuffed bra like an idiot. Well, karma sure did come around to bite me in the ass with this one.

The next year I started fifth grade and suddenly had no need for my little gloves anymore. Somehow I grew boobs overnight! Siiick. My parents were shocked but I was amazed. I felt so cool going to school with my B-cup padded bra like a legend. I was the only girl in the fifth grade that had legit boobs and I made it so obvious. After all, this is what I wanted right? One day as Noor and I were standing in line for lunch she took her juvenile index finger and poked me straight in the boob and said “are those real?” Yes of course they are real, my gloves are in the garbage! Another friend of mine tried spreading a rumor that I stuffed my bra which I quickly shut down by showing her that my bra was indeed not stuffed (anymore). My peers were entranced. They wanted boobs too, but I actually had them. When I started middle school the following year I was the only girl with a C-cup and I gained somewhat of a reputation which I did not mind at all. Being ‘the girl with the nice boobies’ was kinda dope. And instead of heckling me, boys were scared of me. Even better! By the time I started high school at 13 I was a 32D. A very nice size I must admit. But the following year, I was a 32DD. The year after that, 32DDD. What is going on? Why won’t my boobs stop growing? Was I a freak of nature? Now my boobs were too big and it was ruining my life. I wore extra tight sports bras in hopes of making my boobs look smaller. But nothing worked. Anytime I wore an oversized shirt my boobs puffed it out and made me look so fat. But anytime I wore something form fitting I looked like a whore. Many people suggested that I should just become a twitch streamer and play video games all day in little tops to rake in thousands of dollars every month but I honestly would rather die. I looked like somebody’s mom but I was only 18. I can’t believe I used to want boobs so bad I stuffed my bra! Be careful what you wish for I guess.

One day my parents approached me with an offer. They told me if I wanted a breast reduction they would pay for it. A breast reduction? I didn’t even realize that was an option. But letting someone cut my chest open sounded terrifying, so I said no. I started college and continued living life with these two monsters on my chest. I fantasized about wearing normal bikinis, cute little shirts, tube tops, and summer dresses without looking like a pornstar. And on top of everything I had crippling back pain from the weight of these enormous burdens. I often tried to tell myself if I lost weight and did push ups maybe my boobs would magically shrink, but I was wrong. Even at my skinniest my boobs were disproportionately bigger than the rest of my body.

In 2020 I started getting too big for my 32DDD bras. How is it possible that I’m a 32G? I refused to buy a 32G bra. I didn’t even know if the stores sold such a weird size. But my final straw was when I met my boyfriend-at-the-time’s great grandmother and the first thing she said was “so this is the one with the big boobs.” Enough was enough. I needed to get these parasites off my body. But plastic surgery is very scary and I was afraid I’d come out looking like Frankenstein’s creature. If I was going to go through with this breast reduction I’d have to go to the very best surgeon. 

I spent months researching breast reconstructive plastic surgeons all over the country. Thankfully, the best doctor I could find was only 30 minutes away in Beverly Hills, California. Just that zipcode meant trouble. But like the little spoiled brat I am, I didn't care because daddy’s paying for it. So I scheduled a consultation with the best boobie doctor in all the land. My mom accompanied me to his office where he told us all about his special techniques to make sure my new boobies would be awesome. He assured me that my boobs would not look like fleshy scarred little deflated balloons after. It was clear that this was the best doctor and everything sounded great. Then we heard the price. Twenty thousand dollars. My mom gave me a look that said “dad’s never gonna pay for this”. This was much more expensive than we were expecting. However, if we book the surgery appointment today with a down payment they will take $1,000 off the price. My mom countered “what if we pay all cash?”. The doctor's assistant did some calculations. “If you schedule the surgery today and pay all cash we can do it for $18,500.” My mom and I looked at each other. We can’t book the surgery without speaking to my dad first, after all he is paying for it. “What if we go home now and call you later today to schedule?” my mom asked. The doctor said that would be okay as long as we call before the office closes. We rushed home. My mom told me I should just go to a different surgeon that charges eight thousand dollars. And end up with Frankenstein titties! No way. You get what you pay for, and I knew this doctor’s work would be worth it. But how would we convince my dad to pay almost double the price of other doctors? My mom and I shyly approached my dad. He asked how the consultation went. Haha about that… this surgeon is really amazing and I trust him and he is the only surgeon I am comfortable going to but he charges… a lot. “How much?” my dad inquired. “Like $18,000” I said. “Okay”. My mom and I looked at each other shocked. Okay? That's it? Well that was easy.

We scheduled my surgery for the end of February 2021. It was the perfect time to get plastic surgery. We are in a pandemic so all my school is online and I’ll be healed just in time for summer. I was so excited to finally get these obnoxious milk wagons off my chest. On the day of the procedure I arrived at the surgery center at 8 a.m. I had the entire surgery center to myself thanks to covid. They put an IV in my arm, drew lines on my chest, and had me lay down on the operation table. I watched the surgeon and all the nurses wash their hands and slip gloves on. “Please try to make me as small as possible,” I said, “and good luck guys!” They all laughed at the fact that I wished them good luck on cutting my body open. And suddenly everything got very peaceful as I slipped away into a land of serenity.

Then I woke up in a scary, dark, vacant surgery center. Straight from a horror movie. I was in a room of empty hospital beds and for some reason I was alone and the lights were off. To make things ten times scarier my anesthesia was just starting to wear off so I couldn’t speak or move. I tried kicking my legs with all the power in my body but my feet only fluttered a little bit. I tried to yell for my nurse, Tracy, but all I could manage was a muffled grunt. Finally, the nurses realized I was awake and came to calm me. The lights came on and my parents entered the room. My entire chest burned like the pits of hell. I felt like a wounded animal. I came home and saw Noor had put one of my big bras on a teddy bear. I laid down in my bed where I would be stuck for the next couple weeks. I peered down my shirt and almost cried tears of joy at what I saw. I finally have normal boobs that look like they belong on my body and they were so nice! The first week after surgery I couldn’t sit up out of bed on my own or even reach to pull my own pants down (shout out to Noor for pulling my pants down everytime I had to use the bathroom). Although I was completely weak and powerless, I kinda loved it. It was really nice having people cater to your every need. I didn’t even need to reach for my own water bottle when I was thirsty. It was awesome. About 3 weeks after surgery I was able to leave my house for the first time, just in time for spring break, and show my new boobies off to all my friends.

I am so freaking happy. I bought the cutest little tank tops and bikinis and now I actually fit in them. The surgeon had removed 5 pounds of pure boobie meat from my body and my back has never felt better. I am now a 32D which is the smallest the surgeon could safely go. I am in love with my new boobs even with the gnarly scars spanning the width of my chest. My surgery changed my life. I feel free and so much cuter now. I really got a huge weight off my chest lol pun definitely intended. I wish I could go back in time and smack 9 year old Shayla and tell her not to wish for big boobs and enjoy being flat chested while it lasts.

And what happened to my extracted boobie meat? Legend says it's floating in a jar in Queen Elizabeth’s personal library. Or maybe Mark Zuckerberg put it in his meat smoker and fed it to his lizard brethren. I guess we’ll never know.