How I Think of My Body and Sex Life After a Double Mastectomy

GoodRx Health

Danielle Tantone knew the news couldn't be good when her doctor called her from her personal cell phone late on a Friday afternoon.

She was 45 years old at the time and was spending a cooler September afternoon with her youngest daughter in the park after a hot Arizona summer.

Danielle, a nursing student in the Phoenix area, had just stopped by the imaging clinic that did her breast biopsy to see if her report was ready. Waiting to find out whether she had breast cancer caused her tremendous anxiety. The report wasn't ready yet.

But the phone call that interrupted her in the park delivered life-altering news: Danielle had ductal carcinoma in situ, the earliest form of breast cancer.

Her mind racing, Danielle made an urgent appointment with a surgeon for Monday morning. Meanwhile, questions raced through her head: "Will I keep going to class? Will I keep going to work? Will I be able to take a break from it all?"

Why I don't need my breasts to live a long, healthy life

Instantly, Danielle knew that, if given the choice of treatment, she would choose a very aggressive treatment: a double mastectomy. Her double-D breasts, she says, had served their purpose in breastfeeding her three daughters when they were babies and providing pleasure in sexual relationships.

But Danielle had seen too many women die from breast cancer, and many cases where a woman initially beats the cancer but gets a recurrence several years later. Gentler, less invasive treatments like a lumpectomy with radiation and hormone therapy were available, but Danielle wanted peace of mind.

"I'm not going to mess around with it. I won't take that risk," says Danielle, who chronicles her journey in her book, "Piece of Work, a Memoir." "I don't need my breasts to live a long, healthy life, and I won't let them kill me."

Why I barely thought about grieving the loss of my breasts

Still, amputating both breasts is traumatic, and Danielle's cancer treatment was a painful ordeal. She underwent two surgeries: one to remove all breast tissue (including nipples) and create a pocket for implants, and another one a few months later to reconstruct the breasts with implants.

Recovering from the mastectomy was exhausting. For many days after the surgery, Danielle didn't do much besides eat, sleep, read, and watch TV. Friends and family visited, brought gifts, and spent quality time with her as she healed.

Her pathology showed no additional cancer and no need for additional treatment, such as chemotherapy, radiation, or estrogen-blocking pills - all of which could trigger early menopause. Danielle went back to work 6 weeks after the surgery, and she says she felt a greater empathy for her patients.

But just before her second surgery, while watching the movie "Little Women" and the scene where a character grieves the loss of her beautiful hair, Danielle realized something: She was so focused on triumphing and thinking positively that she hadn't grieved the loss of her breasts. She would be getting reconstructed breasts that could be beautiful, but they're not the same thing - and a far cry from a "boob job."

How losing my breasts affected my sex life

Danielle's husband was loving and supportive during her treatment and recovery, but she says her desire for sexual intimacy diminished.

Danielle Tantone started a frank podcast about her life journey. One episode was called "Dating Without Nipples." (Photo courtesy of Danielle Tantone)

"My husband was really great and never made me feel anything less than beautiful, even though [my breasts] looked pretty scary for a while," says Danielle, who recorded an episode called "Dating Without Nipples" for her podcast, "Piece of Work With Danielle Tantone." "But for a very long time, they felt both numb and tingly, and the last thing I wanted was for him to touch them.

"I also was just generally less sexually charged or in the mood," says Danielle, now 50. "Sex became more of a duty than something I actually enjoyed. And I continued to wear the supportive postsurgical breast binder to bed for years."

Gradually, though, some of her breast sensations came back. Although her breasts no longer worked as the erogenous zone they were previously, at least if someone touched them, Danielle - who now has a second career as a life coach - no longer felt pain or even discomfort.

In December 2023, Danielle got 3D areola tattoos in the spot where her nipples were. She initially thought that not having nipples wouldn't matter to her, but Danielle's surgeon told her that it has a major effect on self-image.

"It helps a woman feel complete after losing her breasts," says Danielle, who has since divorced. "And I have to tell you, they do look complete - almost better than my original breasts. It's pretty amazing that there are no actual nipples there - just flat skin with a 3D tattoo. They look so real."

As for sex, Danielle says her boyfriend likes the way her breasts look and feel. And when he touches them, it feels good for Danielle - not in an orgasmic way, but a sensation like being touched on her stomach or leg that feels good.

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