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Joe Newton

My boobs began to get bigger — apropos of nothing — in my early thirties. A lot bigger. No weight gain, they just started growing and didn’t stop. I hated it. I’m very active, and they were heavy and miserable and got in the way. So, I had a breast reduction and had never been happier. It was freedom… for three years. Then my breasts started growing again. I’m five years out from the reduction and it’s only getting worse. I hate it. I cannot abide it. I want to fix the problem.

Repeated breast reductions aren’t an option. It’s an expensive major surgery with a long recovery time, and if there’s breast tissue remaining there’s no reason to expect it won’t just grow back again. Top surgery isn’t my favorite solution — I would much rather have the small, perfect tits I had post-reduction — but my realistic options are huge tits or top surgery. I have chosen top surgery. I feel great about the prospect; it’s taken two years of dedicated work to get to the point where I have a surgeon and a surgery date and everything’s in line. The hiccup is my husband — my wonderful, feminist, kind, supportive husband — who is baffled and distressed by my choice.

This is very reasonable! He’s straight and he’s worried he won’t be physically attracted to me anymore. He says it’s different than needing a double mastectomy for something like breast cancer, as it’s an elective surgery. He’s supportive of my happiness and would never tell me not to do it, but as we get closer to the surgery date, I can see that the prospect is weighing on him. Do you have any advice for him? Or me? Or us both?

Soon-To-Be Boobless In Seattle

Your body, your choice.

That’s the only thing I can say in response to your question — that’s the only thing I’m allowed to say in response to your question — and luckily for me, STTBIS, that’s exactly what I believe. You get to make your own decisions about what you do with your body. Period. Full stop. Five stars. No notes. Next question.

Well, actually…

I also believe — and I’m gonna risk saying — that for those of us in long-term, committed, romantic and sexual partnerships, STBBIS, the choices we make for and about our bodies impact the people we care about and can have consequences for our relationships. If I were to get breast implants, say, or made other radical-to-semi-radical elective body modification that it was absolutely within my rights to make — getting my tongue split or my face tattooed or my penis bisected — my husband and my boyfriend would have feelings about that choice. And while they couldn’t stop me from making whatever choice I felt was right for my body, STTBIS, the impact those choices might have on my relationship(s) would factor into my decision-making process.

So, if I wanted breast implants and my husband and/or boyfriend told me he’d be less attracted to me if I got them, that would argue against me getting the boobs of my dreams, STTBIS, because being wanted by my boyfriend and my husband is important to me too.

Still and again: your body, your boobs, your choice. And your reasons for getting your breasts removed — physical comfort, active lifestyle, not wanting to undergo breast reduction surgery every five years for the rest of your life — are reasonable and sound and my hypothetical is inane and imperfect, e.g., not an exact parallel. But your husband’s body is his body, STTBIS, and he’s telling you his body might not respond to yours in the same way if you get your breasts removed. And the issue isn’t just how your body is going to look after you get your breasts removed, STTBIS, but what your body is going to say: “I knew you wouldn’t like this, you tried to tell me this choice would negatively impact our sexual connection, but I did it anyway.”

A couple of other points…

You use the term “top surgery” to refer to the procedure you want (an elective double mastectomy removing all breast tissue), a term usually associated with one of the masculinizing procedures trans men and non-binary AFAB folks undergo to affirm their gender identities. You may be using the term “top surgery” because it sounds kinder and gentler than “double mastectomy,” STTBIS, but when you say, “top surgery,” your husband may hear, “first step toward gender transition.” If your gender identity isn’t in flux, STTBIS, hearing that from you — emphatically — may relieve some of your husband’s stress about his sexual attraction to you in the years to come. I assume he already knows your reasoning (this is about addressing a physical burden that’s made you miserable), but he may need to hear — he may need to hear again and again — that your sexual connection matters to you and that this isn’t the first step toward a masculine gender presentation or non-binary identity that won’t work for him because he’s straight.

And finally, STTBIS, have you considered breast implants? At the same time you have your breast tissue removed — which can, indeed, grow back after breast reduction surgery — you could get breast implants that resemble or recreate the “small, perfect breasts” you once had, i.e., the breasts you both loved. Breast implants are not without risk, of course, but the risks are minor and the benefits could be great.


My little sister lives in the Bay Area and she has been dating a man who works in tech and lives in the Bay Area. My sister has been dating him for nearly four years. He’s from India and his parents strongly believe in arranged marriage. This guy led his Indian ex-girlfriend on for seven years! My sister is white, and he kept her secret from his parents for three years. Every ultimatum she gives him, the deadline comes, and he asks for more time. He’s delaying a potential engagement/proposal and keeps changing his mind about if he wants to marry my sister or if his parents will want him to marry her. I fucking hate this guy. I want her to DTMFA. My sister is bold, funny, beautiful, intelligent, independent, vibrant and successful. Her boyfriend is evasive, cheap, completely unremarkable and a momma’s boy. What can I say to convince my sister to move on? Any advice or thoughts?

Seething In SF

There are no magic words.

There’s nothing I can tell you to say that you (probably) haven’t said already, SIS, and no spin I can put on  things you’ve (probably) already said that will convince your sister to do what she (probably) knows she needs to do. So, you’ve done your duty as a sibling — you’ve pointed out the red flags, you’ve highlighted shitty patterns, you’ve hyped your sister up — and now all you can do is wait for the (hopefully) inevitable. The wait could be longer than you’d like, SIS, or it could be shorter than you expect. Either way, when this relationship finally ends — which it almost certainly will (probably!) — you duty then is to show up at your sister’s door with a few pints of ice cream, a couple of boxes of wine, and a nice selection of pot gummies.

P.S. Resist the overwhelming temptation to say, “I told you so,” to your sister when it ends. She knows you told her so, SIS, there’s no need to rub it in. And trust me: hearing someone say, “You told me so,” is so much better — it’s so much more satisfying — than saying, “I told you so,” ever could be. (Waiting until they’re ready to say it >>> saying it before they were ready to hear it.)


I was a sex worker for over a decade. Lately though, I have thought about a client from my past who always stuck with me and I’m now wondering what I should do. We had the most incredible night. It was absolutely mind-blowing sex, as I felt like finally someone perfectly matched my energy and technical ability. That kind of chemistry is rare, but he was married and getting divorced, and the one requirement his wife had of him was that he couldn’t see me again. Knowing we can’t be together, what should I do? I fantasize about him, I think about contacting him, and I wish I could see him again. How do I forget about him? Or should I reach out? Lately it’s all I can think about, even though I have many other opportunities for partners. He’s a fan of yours, so there’s a good chance he’ll read this.

Chemistry Like I’ve Never Gotten Since

Seeing as you just reached out to your former client in my column — assuming this former client of yours is still a reader of mine — me telling you not to reach out to him would be equal parts pointless and hypocritical. By running your letter, CLINGS, I have enabled this act of reaching out. I am complicit.

Anyway, CLINGS, even if your former client sees this, he’s under no obligation to respond. My hunch is that this man — someone you shared one amazing night of transactional sex with many years ago — has either reconciled with his wife (if not, her feelings about who he sees wouldn’t matter) or there were reasons he didn’t want to see you after his divorce that he didn’t share with you. If you didn’t hear from him post-divorce (assuming it happened), CLINGS, it’s possible the chemistry wasn’t as intense for him as it was for you (which happens) or the sex was amazing for him because it was transactional (also happens) or he has hangups about your line of work (also happens). If he’s the kind of guy who looks down on the sex workers he hires, CLINGS, you wouldn’t wanna be with him. Chemistry or no chemistry, you wouldn’t be safe with him, emotionally or physically.

Intense chemistry is hard to forget, CLINGS, and I understand why you would wanna reach out to this man years later — there’s this Dutch boy I spent a single night with decades ago that I still think about — but some amazing connections run their course in a single evening. The belief that one perfect night could or should become one perfect lifetime is a logical fallacy that prevents us from fully appreciating good memories, which are all we ultimately have. An obsession with what could’ve been — you with your client, me with my Dutch boy — can prevent us from appreciating what actually was.

So, give it a couple of weeks. If you don’t hear from your old client, CLINGS, you’ll know it’s time to jump on one or two of those new opportunities.

My boobs began to get bigger — apropos of nothing — in my early thirties. A lot bigger. No weight gain, they just started growing and didn’t stop. I hated it. I’m very active, and they were heavy and miserable and got in the way. So, I had a breast reduction and had never been happier. It was freedom… for three years. Then my breasts started growing again. I’m five years out from the reduction and i

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t’s only getting worse. I hate it. I cannot abide it. I want to fix the problem. Repeated breast reductions aren’t an option. It’s an expensive major surgery with a long recovery time, and if there’s breast tissue remaining there’s no reason to expect it won’t just grow back again. Top surgery isn’t my favorite solution — I would much rather have the small, perfect tits I had post-reduction — but my realistic options are huge tits or top surgery. I have chosen top surgery. I feel great about the prospect; it’s taken two years of dedicated work to get to the point where I have a surgeon and a surgery date and everything’s in line. The hiccup is my husband — my wonderful, feminist, kind, supportive husband — who is baffled and distressed by my choice. This is very reasonable! He’s s

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