This brilliant and original poem was written by a reader who has now become a good friend the past several months. Here's another great poem for breast cancer awareness month. Please do enjoy.
"Who I Am"
by Jenny Cando
After my shower I got again depressed.
I need to tell this to get off my chest.
I don't like the reflection in the mirror.
Each time I see them, my pain becomes clearer.
This is not how my breasts are supposed to be.
They don't look like those on the magazine covers I see.
They are not full and plump, and they are not round.
They are not the perfect pink, tan or chocolate brown.
I worry they're not symmetrical or spherical
So I press them in a bra that promised some miracles.
For the lady on the magazine cover that bra looks fine.
But oh my God, not on mine, oh mine.
I put on a shirt big and that's nice and wide
Not because I like it, but so I can try and hide
These clothes that are suppose to make me feel...
feminine and desired...
Instead make me reel...their designers should be fired.
No matter where I look in the media I can only see
Those perfect breasts...they just keep haunting me.
Billboards, newspapers, movies or TV - society is so mean.
Even the on my phone and laptop - they shake and titillate on my screen
No, I don't look like that at all.
I'm not that poster on the wall.
The media is telling me how I should be
And if I am not, then do I need surgery?
But does all of that and all of this - make me who I am?
No. I'm so much more than just these two mammary glands.
Then who am I - no - WHO I AM?
Today I am a woman who is now taking a stand.
"Who I Am"
by Jenny Cando
After my shower I got again depressed.
I need to tell this to get off my chest.
I don't like the reflection in the mirror.
Each time I see them, my pain becomes clearer.
This is not how my breasts are supposed to be.
They don't look like those on the magazine covers I see.
They are not full and plump, and they are not round.
They are not the perfect pink, tan or chocolate brown.
I worry they're not symmetrical or spherical
So I press them in a bra that promised some miracles.
For the lady on the magazine cover that bra looks fine.
But oh my God, not on mine, oh mine.
I put on a shirt big and that's nice and wide
Not because I like it, but so I can try and hide
These clothes that are suppose to make me feel...
feminine and desired...
Instead make me reel...their designers should be fired.
No matter where I look in the media I can only see
Those perfect breasts...they just keep haunting me.
Billboards, newspapers, movies or TV - society is so mean.
Even the on my phone and laptop - they shake and titillate on my screen
No, I don't look like that at all.
I'm not that poster on the wall.
The media is telling me how I should be
And if I am not, then do I need surgery?
But does all of that and all of this - make me who I am?
No. I'm so much more than just these two mammary glands.
Then who am I - no - WHO I AM?
Today I am a woman who is now taking a stand.
