I used to love my tits. Everything about them. As a preteen and a late bloomer, I was the girl who would stuff socks similar in size in my training bra to imagine what it would be like to have actual breast. They were my entry into womanhood. They were adored by anyone who I was intimate with. I can even remember the first compliment they ever received. I knew that life would eventually take its toll on my breasts, but I did not expect to part ways with my beloved boobs at 26 years of age due to a diagnosis that was so unexpected, so untimely and so completely unfair…