Listen. When I tell you my breast reduction recovery was one for the books, I mean it could’ve been a Netflix mini series with a dramatic intro and soft background jazz.

I was really only down for two days yes 2 days. 48 hours. That’s it.

My surgeon, Dr. Marc Everette in NYC (shoutout to the GOAT), told me, “You’ll be good in 3 to 5 days max.” And I stared at him like he was trying to sell me dreams and fairy dust. Turns out, he was a truther, not a liar.

I was up, out, and moving like nothing happened. But while I wasn’t bedridden and boohooing, there were definitely a few things that reminded me I just had major surgery… mostly because I didn’t realize how much we use our arms and chest muscles on a daily basis. Whew.

Here are the 5 weirdest, funniest, and most humbling parts of my breast reduction recovery. Spoiler: constipation was a villain, but my mirror was the true final boss.

Showering With My Back to the Water: 0.8 Stars Out of 5

So apparently after surgery, you have to shower with your back to the water. No direct water pressure on the stitches, no exceptions. Cute.

What they don’t tell you is how much it turns you into a sad, soggy rotisserie chicken just standing there, arms halfway up, confused.

I learned that I’m a “blast the water in my face, full steam ahead” kind of showerer, so this new method felt illegal. I even tried to get creative filled up a plastic cup and poured water over my chest manually like a DIY spa treatment. In theory, it was cute. In reality, it was chaos. If you can dream it, you can do it? Lies. I dreamt it, and it still sucked. This went on for roughly two weeks, and let me tell you. That first shower was a high like no other, like seeing you got sent a Zelle for over 10k, better then any high a drug could ever give.

Sleeping Sitting Up… It Was Giving Torture Chair

I’m a stomach sleeper, So sleeping sitting up felt like I was being punished for something I didn’t do. And for two whole weeks, A whole 14 days…. I was begging Jesus to send the flood.

Yes, I had all the pillows wedge, body, pregnancy, decorative, emotional support ones, and none of them made it better. The tightness in my chest felt like someone slapped a Faja three sizes too small on me. I’d get so mad at night, tossing and turning like I was fighting demons.

The tightness lasted about six days, but it felt like eternity. The sleep struggle was real.

Arm Movement = Unexpected Life Crisis

Here’s the thing: I wasn’t in pain, but I had limited reach, and it was the most humbling thing ever. No heavy lifting, no arms over the head, no random Beyoncé choreo in the kitchen.

My inner stitches were healing, and the outside ones were dissolvable and taped, which I refused to touch. I was paranoid, okay? One wrong move and I thought I’d unravel like a clearance bin sweater.

Turns out, we use our arms for EVERYTHING hair, makeup, lifting groceries, flipping our braids, swatting bugs. Who knew?

Constipation Chronicles: 9 Days of Disrespect

This part? Pure horror story.

I was constipated for NINE DAYS. Yes, I counted.

I was throwing back laxatives, coffee, fiber gummies nothing worked. They warned me it could happen from the anesthesia and meds, but I thought it’d be a 1 to 3 day inconvenience… not a full intestinal hostage situation.

By Day 7, I was stripping naked in the bathroom, lighting a candle, praying to the poop gods, and hoping to push out at least one respectable pebble. If you’ve ever struggled on the toilet like you were trying to summon Excalibur, you understand my pain. And in all transparency, it lasted for about 18 days total before my body regulated back to normal, this was the hardest thing for me. ( literally and figuratively)

Body Dysmorphia Came for Me Hard

Nobody talks enough about this part. The emotional recovery hit me way harder than the physical one.

I knew I’d look different, but I didn’t realize how much it would mess with my mind. I looked in the mirror and saw a body that felt like mine, but didn’t look like mine. It was uncanny.

I’ve had big boobs since 6th grade it’s how I identified myself. So suddenly being proportionate, able to wear different clothes, and not having them dominate my silhouette? It was trippy.

I spent hours in front of the mirror, trying on clothes, doing my makeup, and switching up my hair. Nothing felt quite like me until one day, it finally did. And let me tell you when it clicked, I was pissed I didn’t do it sooner.

I Got My Body (and Life) Back

Getting a breast reduction changed my life. Not just physically, but emotionally, socially, and spiritually. I feel more like myself than I’ve ever felt.

My clothes fit, my posture’s better, my back doesn’t ache, and my lifestyle feels aligned. Big boobs were cute at one point, but for me, they were more burden than blessing.

So if you’re thinking about getting a reduction DO IT. The sooner, the better. You deserve to feel at home in your body.

And if you’ve already had one, I want to hear your story. Let’s swap war stories, tips, triumphs, and the truth about frozen peas and constipation.

Drop a comment below, or email me at hello@tyannatells.com — I’m always down to chat boob talk.