Chloé Thenewone on Healing After Breast Implants

For eighteen years, I lived with breast implants. What started as a decision to feel more confident slowly turned into something far more complex — a silent, invisible struggle happening inside my own body. And for the longest time, I didn’t even realise I was in a battle. I chalked the symptoms up to stress, hormones, maybe something I ate, or just life being heavy sometimes.

The truth was, I was exhausted. I couldn’t breathe deeply. There was this constant tightness in my chest. I was anxious for no reason. I had flare-ups I couldn’t explain. Sleep felt like a distant memory. I kept blaming myself, convinced I just wasn’t trying hard enough to feel well.

Never once did I question the implants. Because no one told me they could be toxic. No one told me that what I had chosen in the name of empowerment might one day be the very thing quietly breaking me down.

I’ll never forget waking up from my second breast implant surgery and seeing my surgeon’s face — serious, eyes steady. “You’re lucky to be alive,” he said. One of the implants had likely been ruptured for nearly ten years, leaking into my body, surrounded by fluid. I was in shock. But if I’m honest, some part of me already knew. My body had been whispering the truth for years, and I had been too afraid — or too conditioned — to listen.

Since that day, I’ve come to realise just how many women are walking around with similar symptoms, unknowingly carrying the weight of something that’s making them sick. I’ve read message after message from women who’ve been told, “You’re fine,” while their health is quietly crumbling. And I know now that I’m not alone.

No one really talks about what it’s like to live with implants — the discomfort when you lie on your back, the pressure that never quite goes away, the shallow breathing, the constant fatigue. No one warns you about the emotional toll, the way you can feel detached from your own body, like it doesn’t quite belong to you anymore. We’re told implants are beautiful, liberating, even empowering. But for me, true empowerment has come not from having them, but from choosing to let them go.

This journey hasn’t just been physical. It’s emotional. Because implants are often tied to much deeper things — old wounds, insecurities, rejection, body shame, the quiet ache of not feeling like we were ever quite enough. For many of us, they were a mask — a way to be more accepted, more desirable, more worthy. But healing began when I decided to take that mask off and meet myself, raw and honest, exactly as I am.

I’m now preparing for explant surgery on 26 May. This time, I’m supported by a surgeon who truly listens, who sees the whole woman in front of him — not just the surface. And for the first time, I feel held by the medical system, not dismissed by it.

There’s a financial reality here that’s hard to talk about, too. In many countries, explant surgery isn’t covered by insurance, even when the implants are ruptured or clearly impacting a woman’s health. Women are paying ten to twenty thousand euros just to have something removed that they were told was “safe.” This isn’t about vanity. It’s about survival. And no one should have to go into debt to reclaim their wellbeing.

The truth is, the surgery isn’t the finish line. It’s the beginning. Healing takes time. The detox process — physically, emotionally, spiritually — runs deep. Our bodies hold memories of trauma, of silicone, of anaesthesia, of the years we spent not listening to our own needs. What I’ve learned is that explanting is a sacred return — a chance to reconnect, to nourish, to rebuild trust with the body that never stopped fighting for us.

This experience has changed the direction of my life’s work. After more than a decade in the health and nutrition space, I now focus fully on guiding women through this transition. I offer pre- and post-explant support, using plant-based detox, Human Design insights, gut and hormone balancing, and emotional healing. Because removing the implants is one part of the story — rebuilding the connection to your body is the real work.

I believe it’s time to normalise these conversations. Too many women are suffering in silence, questioning their intuition, being dismissed or gaslit by doctors, and wondering if they’re simply imagining it all. If you’ve been feeling that way — please hear me when I say, you are not alone. You are not making it up. Your body is not betraying you. It’s trying to protect you.

Breast Implant Illness is real. And we need to speak about it — for ourselves, for our daughters, for our sisters and friends, for the women who haven’t yet found the words.

I’m on a mission to raise awareness, to open hearts, and to help more women come back to themselves. Healing is not always easy. It can be messy, uncomfortable, and full of grief. But it is also powerful, liberating, and deeply beautiful.

Explanting is not just a surgery — it’s a return. A return to your breath. A return to your truth. A return to your body.

And if you’ve been waiting for a sign — this is it. You’re not too late. You’re not too broken. You are worthy of feeling well, of feeling whole, of feeling like yourself again.

We are healing — one woman, one story, one choice at a time.