Breast Betrayals by Christa Clark – SEE SAW Comics, Webcomics from the Sequential Artists Workshop

Breast Betrayals by Christa Clark

The comic is rendered digitally on a textured paper background with a gouache-like brush. The title panel features two dark mounds reminiscent of breasts, surrounded by purple shrubs and a brown landscape background. The panel border is decorative. On the mounds in white text, the title reads: â€œBREAST BETRAYALS.â€ In a long shot of a desert landscape, a small figure trudges forwards with the help of a trekking pole. Three birds, perhaps vultures, fly overhead in the distance. All-caps text covers the landscape, reading: â€œA desert. Dusty. Desiccated. It wasnâ€™t always this way.â€ A close-up of the figureâ€™s hiking boots walking over the dusty desert: â€œCRUNCH CRUNCH.â€ Then another close-up of the figureâ€™s hands rummaging through their backpack and pulling out a map scroll. They set their trekking pole on the ground: â€œFOOMP!â€ The figure opens the scroll - â€œrustle rustleâ€ - to reveal the two desert mounds from the title panel. We zoom out again to see a silhouette of the figure sitting down, knees to chest, arms resting on knees, head buried in their hands. They say, â€œTheyâ€¦theyâ€™re gone! What HAPPENED? Where do I go from here?â€ They have let the scroll go, which is carried off the panel in the wind.

A header at the top of the page reads: â€œThe First Breast Betrayal - Pubertyâ€ A text panel reads, â€œI was fully developed by the age of twelve, the tidal wave of hormones having done a *brilliant* job of maturing my body and confusing the fuck out of the rest of me.â€ To the left of the text is a small girl with hair in pigtails and a little bow, wearing a pink dress and holding a large lollipop. She is smiling and has a tooth missing from her front teeth. Below her, the caption reads: â€œ11 years & 365 days.â€ To the right of the text is a taller, much older looking version of the girl, wearing a pink dress that hugs the curves of her body and shows pronounced breasts. Her hair is down and falling past her shoulders. She stands awkwardly, leaning forward slightly with her hand on her hip, and looks shocked, mouth agape. Above her reads, â€œBa-boomp!â€ Below her, â€œ12 years & 1 day.â€ The narration continues, â€œAll of a sudden, I was noticed. And that came at a price. In my quest to fit in and be loved, I put up with a lot of stupid shit.â€ In a classroom, two school-age boys turn in their seats to look back at Christa/the reader (off-panel), snorting with laughter and saying, â€œHey, can you touch your elbows behind your back?â€ They are captioned, â€œIdiot classmates.â€ A close-up of an older manâ€™s face, fit with glasses and a baseball cap, with rotting teeth and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. His eyes are wide with an intense stare. He is labeled, â€œCreepy leering - 6th grade school bus driver (barf!)â€ An adult man - â€œrandom assholesâ€ - rests his elbow out of his open car window, leaning forward with a cocky smile and shouting, â€œWoah, baby! Are they real?â€ Around these panels, the background of the page is dotted with little spiral circles. Christa continues narrating, â€œBy the time I reached my twenties, I had learned to unleash my femininity, using my WEAPONS of MASS SEDUCTION.â€ A pink bra is in the center of the panel, with notes saying, â€œAs much coverage as possibleâ€ and â€œunderwire for maximum discomfort.â€ Christa writes, â€œâ€¦but I still had to kiss a bunch of frogs before I met my prince. OMG. SO. MANY. FROGS.â€ Next to an image of a younger her with long dark hair, pinching the bridge of her nose between her eyebrows, eyes closed.

A new header: â€œThe Next Breast Betrayal - Breastfeedingâ€ Christa narrates, â€œI assumed, since I was â€˜ample,â€™ that breastfeeding would be natural. Innate.â€ A pregnant Christa, with long dark hair over her shoulders, large breasts, and a baby bump, stands with her hand resting on her belly and thinks to herself, â€œOh, I am so going to be a PRO at this. Itâ€™s going to be a BREEZE!â€ Next to her is her vision of herself, labeled â€œExpectation,â€ with her sitting in a rocking chair, hair pulled back in an elegant bun, and cradling her baby in her arms as they peacefully breast feed. Then the â€œRealityâ€ - Christa, with long hair falling in her face and past her shoulders, sobs and holds a tissue to her eyes. She says, â€œBaby wonâ€™t latch! Iâ€™m so tired! Iâ€™m a failure as a mom! Iâ€™m a failure as a woman!â€ In red cursive text (a deviation from the usual lettering), Christa narrates, â€œBut the worst part? Itâ€™s the things they donâ€™t tell youâ€¦â€

This page, a full spread, has a dark background, and the text is white in cursive lettering: â€œâ€¦Like the fact that your milk will still come in, even after your baby Lucy has died. That you need cabbage leaves to stem the flow, and to deal with the engorgement.â€ Christa, shirtless but covered, places her hands over her chest in mourning and cries quietly, tears streaming down her face, eyes closed and head tilted slightly. Two other versions of this image are refracted in the background along with a slight iridescent effect.

Next header: â€œAnd if that werenâ€™t enough for ya, the Final Breast Betrayal - The C-Wordâ€ â€œThe diagnosis: Invasive Carcinomaâ€ In three different panels, a woman with blonde hair in a white lab coat stands in front of a large (taller than her) flip notebook, flipping through the roman numerals I, II, and III. She says, one word at a time as she flips through, â€œYouâ€¦Areâ€¦HERE.â€ At the last page, the roman numeral III beams with radiant yellow light in an eight-pointed star shape, accompanied by a yellow â€œTA-DA!â€ â€œThe team: Dr. M (my bestie, love him to bits), Dr. H, Dr. K.â€ Below the names are three doctors in white lab coats, surgical masks, with stethoscopes draped around their necks. Dr. M, a man with medium skin, short brown hair, and glasses, holds a folder in his hands. Dr. H is the woman with blond hair, standing confidently in the center with arms crossed. Dr. K is to the right, a man with glasses and dark cropped hair, hands in coat pocket. Each is labeled by their specialty, oncologist (Dr. M), surgeon (Dr. H), and radiologist (Dr. K). Below them is the header, â€œThe treatment:â€ An arrow follows from each doctor to their respective treatment: Chemotherapy - Christa lies in a hospital bed with an IV drip and surgical mask, hair gray and frail. Double mastectomy - Christa, now bald and with two stitched up incisions where her breast were, has bags under her eyes and frowns Radiation - Christa lies back in a hospital gown, with two dashed lines forming a plus sign across her body. She has an empty expression.

The mounds from the first page, dark gray and surrounded at their base by purple shrubs, stands tall but with a swirling, cloudy pattern. â€œMEDICATEâ€ A yellow excavator is digging into the base of the mounds, which are now dark, surrounded by clouds of dust. â€œEXCAVATEâ€ Where the mounds stood is now an empty desert. From above, like the sun, a yellow radiation symbol sends down beams of bright radiant light. â€œIRRADIATEâ€

The silhouette from the first page returns, sitting with knees to chest and head in hands. Christa says, â€œThey betrayed meâ€¦â€ She buries her head a bit further and says, â€œGood riddance, I guess?â€ Then, â€œHow do I make meaning from this?â€ She looks ahead and imagines a large circular ornate rune before her over the desert floor. Then in its place, a field of sprouting green plants. She stands back up, dusting herself off, and treks onwards across the desert, leaving a trail of footsteps behind her. In this last image, a long shot of Christa off in the distance, a quote is superimposed in white text: â€œOften when something is ending we discover within it the spore of new beginning, and a whole new train of possibility is in motion before we even realize it. When the heart is ready for a fresh beginning, unforeseen things can emerge. And in a sense, this is exactly what a beginning does. it is an opening for surprises. Surrounding the intention and the act of beginning, there are always exciting possibilities. - John Oâ€™Donohue.â€

The comic is rendered digitally on a textured paper background with a gouache-like brush. The title panel features two dark mounds reminiscent of breasts, surrounded by purple shrubs and a brown landscape background. The panel border is decorative. On the mounds in white text, the title reads: â€œBREAST BETRAYALS.â€ In a long shot of a desert landscape, a small figure trudges forwards with the help of a trekking pole. Three birds, perhaps vultures, fly overhead in the distance. All-caps text covers the landscape, reading: â€œA desert. Dusty. Desiccated. It wasnâ€™t always this way.â€ A close-up of the figureâ€™s hiking boots walking over the dusty desert: â€œCRUNCH CRUNCH.â€ Then another close-up of the figureâ€™s hands rummaging through their backpack and pulling out a map scroll. They set their trekking pole on the ground: â€œFOOMP!â€ The figure opens the scroll - â€œrustle rustleâ€ - to reveal the two desert mounds from the title panel. We zoom out again to see a silhouette of the figure sitting down, knees to chest, arms resting on knees, head buried in their hands. They say, â€œTheyâ€¦theyâ€™re gone! What HAPPENED? Where do I go from here?â€ They have let the scroll go, which is carried off the panel in the wind.

A header at the top of the page reads: â€œThe First Breast Betrayal - Pubertyâ€ A text panel reads, â€œI was fully developed by the age of twelve, the tidal wave of hormones having done a *brilliant* job of maturing my body and confusing the fuck out of the rest of me.â€ To the left of the text is a small girl with hair in pigtails and a little bow, wearing a pink dress and holding a large lollipop. She is smiling and has a tooth missing from her front teeth. Below her, the caption reads: â€œ11 years & 365 days.â€ To the right of the text is a taller, much older looking version of the girl, wearing a pink dress that hugs the curves of her body and shows pronounced breasts. Her hair is down and falling past her shoulders. She stands awkwardly, leaning forward slightly with her hand on her hip, and looks shocked, mouth agape. Above her reads, â€œBa-boomp!â€ Below her, â€œ12 years & 1 day.â€ The narration continues, â€œAll of a sudden, I was noticed. And that came at a price. In my quest to fit in and be loved, I put up with a lot of stupid shit.â€ In a classroom, two school-age boys turn in their seats to look back at Christa/the reader (off-panel), snorting with laughter and saying, â€œHey, can you touch your elbows behind your back?â€ They are captioned, â€œIdiot classmates.â€ A close-up of an older manâ€™s face, fit with glasses and a baseball cap, with rotting teeth and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. His eyes are wide with an intense stare. He is labeled, â€œCreepy leering - 6th grade school bus driver (barf!)â€ An adult man - â€œrandom assholesâ€ - rests his elbow out of his open car window, leaning forward with a cocky smile and shouting, â€œWoah, baby! Are they real?â€ Around these panels, the background of the page is dotted with little spiral circles. Christa continues narrating, â€œBy the time I reached my twenties, I had learned to unleash my femininity, using my WEAPONS of MASS SEDUCTION.â€ A pink bra is in the center of the panel, with notes saying, â€œAs much coverage as possibleâ€ and â€œunderwire for maximum discomfort.â€ Christa writes, â€œâ€¦but I still had to kiss a bunch of frogs before I met my prince. OMG. SO. MANY. FROGS.â€ Next to an image of a younger her with long dark hair, pinching the bridge of her nose between her eyebrows, eyes closed.

A new header: â€œThe Next Breast Betrayal - Breastfeedingâ€ Christa narrates, â€œI assumed, since I was â€˜ample,â€™ that breastfeeding would be natural. Innate.â€ A pregnant Christa, with long dark hair over her shoulders, large breasts, and a baby bump, stands with her hand resting on her belly and thinks to herself, â€œOh, I am so going to be a PRO at this. Itâ€™s going to be a BREEZE!â€ Next to her is her vision of herself, labeled â€œExpectation,â€ with her sitting in a rocking chair, hair pulled back in an elegant bun, and cradling her baby in her arms as they peacefully breast feed. Then the â€œRealityâ€ - Christa, with long hair falling in her face and past her shoulders, sobs and holds a tissue to her eyes. She says, â€œBaby wonâ€™t latch! Iâ€™m so tired! Iâ€™m a failure as a mom! Iâ€™m a failure as a woman!â€ In red cursive text (a deviation from the usual lettering), Christa narrates, â€œBut the worst part? Itâ€™s the things they donâ€™t tell youâ€¦â€

This page, a full spread, has a dark background, and the text is white in cursive lettering: â€œâ€¦Like the fact that your milk will still come in, even after your baby Lucy has died. That you need cabbage leaves to stem the flow, and to deal with the engorgement.â€ Christa, shirtless but covered, places her hands over her chest in mourning and cries quietly, tears streaming down her face, eyes closed and head tilted slightly. Two other versions of this image are refracted in the background along with a slight iridescent effect.

Next header: â€œAnd if that werenâ€™t enough for ya, the Final Breast Betrayal - The C-Wordâ€ â€œThe diagnosis: Invasive Carcinomaâ€ In three different panels, a woman with blonde hair in a white lab coat stands in front of a large (taller than her) flip notebook, flipping through the roman numerals I, II, and III. She says, one word at a time as she flips through, â€œYouâ€¦Areâ€¦HERE.â€ At the last page, the roman numeral III beams with radiant yellow light in an eight-pointed star shape, accompanied by a yellow â€œTA-DA!â€ â€œThe team: Dr. M (my bestie, love him to bits), Dr. H, Dr. K.â€ Below the names are three doctors in white lab coats, surgical masks, with stethoscopes draped around their necks. Dr. M, a man with medium skin, short brown hair, and glasses, holds a folder in his hands. Dr. H is the woman with blond hair, standing confidently in the center with arms crossed. Dr. K is to the right, a man with glasses and dark cropped hair, hands in coat pocket. Each is labeled by their specialty, oncologist (Dr. M), surgeon (Dr. H), and radiologist (Dr. K). Below them is the header, â€œThe treatment:â€ An arrow follows from each doctor to their respective treatment: Chemotherapy - Christa lies in a hospital bed with an IV drip and surgical mask, hair gray and frail. Double mastectomy - Christa, now bald and with two stitched up incisions where her breast were, has bags under her eyes and frowns Radiation - Christa lies back in a hospital gown, with two dashed lines forming a plus sign across her body. She has an empty expression.

The mounds from the first page, dark gray and surrounded at their base by purple shrubs, stands tall but with a swirling, cloudy pattern. â€œMEDICATEâ€ A yellow excavator is digging into the base of the mounds, which are now dark, surrounded by clouds of dust. â€œEXCAVATEâ€ Where the mounds stood is now an empty desert. From above, like the sun, a yellow radiation symbol sends down beams of bright radiant light. â€œIRRADIATEâ€

The silhouette from the first page returns, sitting with knees to chest and head in hands. Christa says, â€œThey betrayed meâ€¦â€ She buries her head a bit further and says, â€œGood riddance, I guess?â€ Then, â€œHow do I make meaning from this?â€ She looks ahead and imagines a large circular ornate rune before her over the desert floor. Then in its place, a field of sprouting green plants. She stands back up, dusting herself off, and treks onwards across the desert, leaving a trail of footsteps behind her. In this last image, a long shot of Christa off in the distance, a quote is superimposed in white text: â€œOften when something is ending we discover within it the spore of new beginning, and a whole new train of possibility is in motion before we even realize it. When the heart is ready for a fresh beginning, unforeseen things can emerge. And in a sense, this is exactly what a beginning does. it is an opening for surprises. Surrounding the intention and the act of beginning, there are always exciting possibilities. - John Oâ€™Donohue.â€

Published On: April 25, 2024

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A human figure is crouched down on the ground, back against a tree trunk. They are backed away from a pond, from which a huge splash of water rises with a “PLIIP!” The figure is frowning, looking a bit taken aback.

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4 thoughts on “Breast Betrayals by Christa Clark”

Erika
04/26/2024, 11:48 am
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Moved to tears by this incredible work. Christa, you are amazing. ❤️
Jeannie
05/07/2024, 5:14 pm
- Reply
Real and beautifully done. ❤️
Ellen Beier
05/16/2024, 1:06 pm
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This is a gorgeous piece and so moving.
Sarah
02/12/2025, 11:20 pm
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Christa, this is so authentic, vulnerable, creative and raw- you are so amazing ❤️

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