She wanted new breasts. Redone. Plastic surgery costs a lot. For her, it cost a lot more than she bargained for.
Vanessa is not her real name, but that’s what we’ll call her. For the longest time, Vanessa wanted to have her breasts done.
Plastic surgery is expensive. Very expensive. Vanessa decided to head to Western Canada to dance. Make a quick strike and come home with enough money for the operation. She planned to have enough in a month.
After a few weeks, Vanessa was found dead under a balcony. We don’t know what happened. We don’t know why she didn’t have the protection she was promised. Her money was gone.
We helped contribute to bring her body back home to Montréal, so we could bury her here. Because a plane ticket to transport a body is expensive. Almost ten times the cost of a conventional airplane ticket.
Danielle and I went to the funeral parlor to offer our sympathies to the family and friends. There were a lot of people there. The parlor was packed. So many people loved Vanessa – just the way she was. It was tragic that Vanessa couldn’t love herself and accept herself the way she was. If only Vanessa could have loved herself as much as all the people at the funeral parlor loved her.
Not every young woman dies like Vanessa to pay for her plastic surgery. Not everyone dies on the operating table, like Micheline Charest of Cinar did in 2004. But what will people do to slake their thirst for self-transformation?
Adieu, Vanessa. We miss you, and we’ll be thinking of you.