As I wandered down the long, slow, beautiful path of self-awareness and well-being, I began to understand that hating my breasts was counterintuitive to learning to love my body. I made a pact with my inner child and vowed to my higher self that I would work to transform this resentment of my breasts and put an end to this war that had waged my entire life.
With nothing to lose, I rolled a small joint, laid down on the couch and inhaled a few puffs. Within moments, the death grip of my cramps began to lessen, the tension slowly fading away. I sunk back into the softness of my sofa and for the first time in years, experienced a deep sense of relief and release that I had forgotten was possible. Then, the unthinkable happened, I faded off to sleep.