So I went to Malibu Beach yesterday and saw a guy with the most unique looking body structure.

He was going around on a skimboard and was there with his family (quite a few of them and also lovely) next to our spot. Actually I’m pretty sure it was pectus excavatum that he had though. His chest had a large cavity and his rib cage jutted out quite a bit at the bottom and was highly defined as well as his spine and the sinews in his back, spreading through his wide shoulders and arms and wow I thought he looked beautiful.

So I eventually I got the guts and and went up to tell him that randomly.

I just walked up close to the water where he was and got his attention:

“Hey, hi, hello!”

He noticed me there and came over with a friendly, curious smile.

“I just wanted to say you have such a beautiful and unique bone structure and I love it.”

He got kind of flustered but grinned extremely wide, “Oh, well, thank you!”

“I just really felt I should mention it cuz ahh it looks so fantastic.” I gestured to his everything dramatically.

He points to his chest cavity, “Is it because of this?”

Clearly, it’s a feature of his that is prone to bringing conversation on occasion.

“Hmm, well, partly. I just think you look great all over. All of them are so well defined and lovely. You just look great.”

He blushes again and can’t stop smiling as he looks away shyly and shuffles gripping his skimboard, “Well, thanks. haha”

I begin to walk further away as I shrug and continue to make dramatic hand gestures, “I’m an artist so… I really like seeing different body structures like that and I just get excited when I see it. Sorry if this is kind of weird and out of nowhere.”

“No, no, it’s fine! Thank you very much~”

And we parted was and I got my pants soaked by an unexpected wave and screeched in exclamation.

A mild success for another human interaction. Sort of. Close enough.

I don’t really know anything he might be going through personally whether it’s psychologically or medically, but I really hope I brightened his day at least a bit with my words. I do worry for anything he might be going through with that since I guess it’s normally seen as a deformity?? It hardly crossed my mind at the time and I hope I didn’t come off as insensitive…

But he was smiling a lot and I caught him looking at his chest a few times that day like a cutie before he left (not too much after I did that his family packed up). So I can hope for the best at least.

Also I think it might have been  his grandma that was using sign language but I just loved watching them interact. She was collecting bunches of seaweed for some reason but she was just smiling so much and I couldn’t help but smile too watching them all. His whole family was just wonderful to watch and really cute shucks. Ahhhh I love people watching~ It’s so inspiring for me.

In summary: I had a ton of fun while I was there and I’m glad I went today and talked to him and saw all the pretty, lovely things ~ UvU


I’m just going to make this post to explain Parker Cannon’s “sunken chest” to those of you who are unaware of what it is. Parker has pectus excavatum or PE. The appearance of a sunken chest is caused by his ribs formation. According to this website, PE only makes your lung capacity slightly below average so he is still able to sing even with this deformity. Don’t take my word on this, but I don’t think Parker’s PE hurts his lungs much(otherwise he wouldn’t be able to handle long tours as a vocalist), but varying from person to person it can cause chronic pain to the lungs. You can read more about pectus excavatum here.

Image source



i stutter but idgaf i did it all in one take i’m not about to do it again. if you watch this all you are now a dedicated follower congrats ily xxxx

I have a condition called pectus excavatum. It basically means that my chest bone has collapsed in on itself, causing my ribs to stick out. I can remember being 9 years old, reading about my condition, and seeing the first listed symptom being “unattractive appearance of the chest and torso”. I have a big problem with that. I grew up being taught to hate my body, and to think it’s ugly. I grew up being taught to cover my body because my ribs are “unattractive”. I grew up being told it was just because I was “too skinny” and being called “four boobs”. But the bottom line is, this is my body, this is the way I am. My body is not unattractive, ugly, or weird. My body is different, but it’s still beautiful. Body acceptance and body love isn’t just about loving bodies that are big and small, it’s also about loving bodies that are disfigured. And I love my body.

My Journey with Pectus Excavatum

I was born with pectus excavatum. I remember when I was five and looking at my sisters naked chest and comparing it to mine and asking her why my ribs stuck out so much and why I had a hole. “I could eat cereal out of it”, she would tease. I didn’t really think much about it again until I was about 13 getting changed for gym class. All the other girls were more developed than I , we would change into our gym clothes and amidst that we could dance around in our underwear. One particular gym class, a girl that had taken a liking to bullying me pointed out my flat concave chest to every girl in the class changing, yelling, “What is wrong with your chest?!” Taken aback I stated, “Nothing, I was born this way.” The more I grew, the more sunken and asymmetrical my chest began to morph. I took ballet and this helped my confidence and posture. Even in dance class my teacher would tell me to “tuck my ribs in”. As I progressed into womanhood, I would buy certain clothes to cover up my chest and wear a more padded bra so that maybe people wouldn’t see my concave chest. I hated bathing suits and anything to do with other people seeing me for fear of being called weird or being pointed out.

I began researching what I had and found a surgery was available but it was one of the most painful surgeries there is. The Nuss Procedure: I would get a titanium rod underneath my sternum to reshape my chest. I opted for it. True to what the doctor said, this was the most painful experience I have ever had in my life. I came out of surgery and my epidural didn’t take, I felt the cold bar every time I took a shallow breath and searing pain accompanying this. I was in the hospital for a week and bed-ridden for a month. I was on narcotics for two months and that in itself was huge. It took me almost until the time I was to get the Nuss bar removed that I was able to begin sleeping all through the night because of this shock that happened to my body. From here my chest wasn’t nearly where I had hoped it would be.

Although my sternum was no longer sunken, my chest was an S shape. There was little to no breast tissue on my right side and I had a considerably larger depression on that side. I didn’t feel womanly. I felt as though I had come all this way with the Nuss bar and all that pain and did not get the results I had wanted. My surgeon suggested breast implants. At first I thought to myself and even laughed a little, “Are you kidding me? That is just so not me to have big fake tits”. My mother was so supportive and said the wise words to me that even though they are prosthetic; every woman deserves to feel womanly and attractive to herself. Now, don’t get me wrong, I come from a completely conservative home where modesty is important and I believe classiness to be vital. I would not be one of those females that go to the plastic surgeon to get this procedure done so that I could be objectified by men.

I went to the plastic surgeon and came out of there crying. He was completely insensitive to me and said, “This is the worst case I’ve ever seen”. He then asked if he could take photos of my chest because it was such a rare and extreme case. He suggested I go a 34D (from a 32AA) because “that’s what most women want to be”. I continued to explain to him that I was not most women, I wanted my chest to be symmetrical and to have at least something there.  The government approved that they would pay for it as the case was extreme. I waited three years until I chose to have the surgery. I am now a 32C and my chest is relatively symmetrical. I did not get these implants so that men could objectify me, I got them so I could feel womanly and look in the mirror and see a strong confident woman. I can now wear clothing that otherwise I would never have worn, I even feel sexy in a bathing suit. It was a long process for me to go through and I still find there is stigma about prosthesis. That fake breasts are “gross” and “only strippers get them”. I have been the fly on the wall during many conversations about implants as I kept them a secret between family and my boyfriend (obviously).

I am happy with my appearance and believe every woman should be able feel womanly even just for herself. It has been a long journey but I have learned a lot along the way.  Self-love is a journey in itself that we all must embark on and by no means am I suggesting that plastic surgery does the patchwork for those things you don’t like about yourself. If your insecurity is deeply rooted, it will follow you no matter what you do. You must love and accept yourself and the rest will follow. 

ANNOUNCEMENT: Okay so if any of you have followed me for over two years(probably like 3 people) there’s a chance you know about my pectus excavatum and how i was in the children’s hospital for 9 days after my nuss procedure and how i spent the summer phone calling my mom when i woke up to have her help me sit up so i could get out of bed and how i couldn’t sneeze or cough without my vision going black for a few seconds and how i couldn’t sleep on my side for what felt like a year and how i only got a job three and a half months after my surgery because i was moving out and i needed the money to support myself and how speaking of support i couldn’t wear a bra for months because it felt like i was crushing my ribcage with it and if you paid really close attention you probably noticed how i became a shell of a human and pushed away everyone i once cared about and kinda still tragically do so


It’s been almost 3 fucking years since that bitch of a bar was put inside my chest and i let it make my life hell, and on February 1st I’ve got an appointment with my surgeon and we’re gonna chat and set a date to GET. THIS. BITCH. OUT.

Every time I think about it I want to cry I am so happy. 

currently having a breakdown because I’m scrolling through the Pectus Excavatum tag and it’s hitting me really hard knowing that someone else, hundreds of miles away, knows what it feels like. They how what it’s like to be abnormal, to go through the pain, and to have no fucking idea where all this is coming from.
I’m crying so much, it’s like a group of people that stick together for we’re a special breed.