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Writer's pictureKate McKiernan

Diagnosis: Dating

Like dating in your 40's isn't already hell, try adding boob health issues.


A HEAVILY/POORLY EDITED POST FROM JULY I NEVER PUBLISHED

I was writing this whole thing about “when do you tell someone you are just starting to get to know/dating that you are dealing with a possible cancer diagnosis?” I discovered that question is really a symptom, not the disease (to overwork the medical metaphor a little more.) The bottom line is I’m super freaked out that breast surgery will make me somehow even more unattractive to potential partners. Because my deepest, darkest fear is I will be alone until I die. And, when doctors started talking about cancer, I started thinking about death. WHICH IS SUPER HEAVY, RIGHT? So, I retreat to the relative safety of joking about online dating. And I have been back on the apps (after declaring I never would again) because I feel a bit like a ticking time bomb and that everything will be different after boob surgery. I have put all kinds of unnecessary pressure on myself to figure out what I want in a relationship and secure it in like 3 weeks. I realize this is irrational. But fear really brings out the worst inner voices.


The anticipation of surgery is also making me distracted all the time. My living-in-the-moment skills are a C+ at best on a normal day but it has been a real challenge to forget that surgery is coming up with a quickness. I love to travel! But I was away from home for a week doing super fun stuff and was not really enjoying myself. I’ve been out to dinner with people I adore and lost track of the conversation. So in addition to the extraordinary pressure, I’m putting on myself, I’m also a shitty date. Doing great, over here.


The first guy I told while on a third date. He was nice about it. He never texted me back, but he did swipe right on me on another app and then never talked to me. So that was fun.


Another guy I told via text because like fuck it, right? He generously offered to sleep with me before surgery. And then told me about his wife in another state, for full transparency. I did not take him up on the offer.


The one guy I didn’t tell was super confused that I was in town but unavailable to meet up the week I’m getting surgery done.


It’s going great, y’all.


There are two dudes who are doing a good job. One is maybe catfishing me and the other may have friend-zoned me weeks ago, but I refuse to take the hint.



Post-Surgery Update: The incision is small and healing. While I don’t know what the next steps are, it’s a relief to know that my boob remains gorgeous and only my brain can screw up my dating life. Which it is doing. Actively. All the time. Like right now.

As my friend Elena always reminds me, it isn't my body that they don't like, it's my terrible personality.




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