September 2002 - Glamour Magazine

A Hollywood Actress's Intimate Diary Why I Took Out My Breast Implants (Page Four - Continued) Monday, April 29, 2002 Yesterday was my birthday. The night before, my friend Saw had an art show opening, and I offered to hold a cocktail reception at my place afterwards. But when we got to my house, it turned out to be a surprise party for me, for my birthday. It was unbelievable. There were about a hundred people present, and there I was, in my boob brace, trying to pull off some silly outfit designed to disguise it. But I felt good. People asked me all night why I had the surgery after so many years, and all I could think to say was, "Because I'm over it." The women understood exactly what I meant, and the men told stories of adolescent love, when breasts were exciting just because they were breats not because of the size. I hope that stills holds true today! I told my Dad that I got them removed, even though I'd never actually told him that I got them. We always used to joke about L.A., saying "Isn't it ridiculous what people do to their bodies there?" So when I ended up getting implants, I couldn't bring myself to admit it to him. He noticed on his own and said something to Mom, but he and I never talked about it. But now he can be proud of me. I have my friends, my family and my newfound self-worth. Happy Birthday to me. Wednesday, May 1, 2002 I'm in Hawaii, finally taking the rest I should have taken right after the surgery. And I've decided that my breasts are definitely cute. My left breast is a little smaller, so they're not symmetrical, but I've been asking my friends and they all tell me that most women's aren't! Now I feel younger and very proud to be in this body. And guys are still whistling at me. See, being sexy is not about the size of your body parts at all -- it's something that comes from the inside. Self-confidence is the sexiest accessory of all. Monday, May 20,2002

It's been almost a month since my surgery. Overall, I've spent more than 20 grand on my breasts, yet I'm back to where I started. Actually, I'm smaller than what I started with because my downsizing doctor took out so much scar tissue. If only I still had my 21-year-old-breasts -- those beautiful South of France, Mediterranean breasts. They weren't big -- they weren't even a B --- but they were just right. They were perfect, in fact. Gorgeous.

At least now again, I feel 100 percent me. I saw an old friend at the gym last week, and the first thing she said was, "Where are your boobs?" I told her they were home in hermetically sealed bags. She laughed. But she's not the only one who's been surprised by my new look. People I've seen on a daily basis for years have been looking at me more closely. But I no longer feel the need to talk about my surgery or to explain why I look different than I did last month. I'm just me: 35 years old with beautiful, real breasts. Even though it was a hard road, it's been well worth it. I feel strong and sexy and womanly, and now when I walk into a room, my breasts don't arrive before I do. I arrive.