The subject of this blog post is near and dear to my heart. I mean that literally. I'm writing about breasts, specifically my breasts. It's a big subject to tackle, BAHAHAHAHAHA. I'm sorry; I couldn't resist. I don't normally sit around and think about my own mammary glands. I'm extremely self absorbed, but I'm not THAT self absorbed; however, I read an article about bras this morning and it got me to thinking about the subject. I love a good laugh which is why I often look at Gwyneth Paltrow's website called goop. I don't think she means for the content of her website to be funny, but it is funny, extremely funny. I'm not her target audience; I'm not young, thin, or rich, but I'm one of her biggest fans. Anyhoo, it's possible to buy a bra on her website IF you have the figure of a nine-year-old boy. Now, I realize that some ladies actually do have the figure of a nine-year-old boy; I have only one thing to say about that: "I'm insanely jealous of you." I didn't want big boobs at nine or 19 or 29. I still don't want 'em, but I got 'em; I got enough for two ladies.
I wouldn't be able to fit even one boob in this beautiful bra I found on Gwynie's website; I call her Gwynie cause we're tight like that. Anyhoo, you can pick up this little number called The Triangle Bondage Bra for a mere $125. I'm so jealous. I want to wear a cute, little, pink bra. I want to be able to eat without a bib. I want to sleep on my stomach. I want to buy a one-size fits all top. I want to comfortably wear a seatbelt. I want to jump rope. I want to wear a pretty blouse with buttons. I want people to look me in the eyes when they talk to me. Oh well, people in hell want ice water.
If I'd had this bra in 7th grade, I wouldn't have done what I actually did every single day. The minute I got to school, and away from my mom's gaze, I'd go to the restroom, take my ugly, white JC Penney training bra off, and leave it in my locker all day. I could do that back then because I had baby boobs. By 10th grade, the babies had grown and were still growing, much to my dismay. It was no longer possible to ditch the bra. I needed a good, sturdy, strong, basic bra with thick straps and four hooks and that's never changed; however, that's not THE WORST THING about big boobs. What's THE WORST THING about big boobs? I'll tell ya. THE WORST THING about big boobs is the unwanted attention and erroneous assumptions on the part of both male and female homo sapiens, and I'm guilty of it myself.
I look at pictures, like this one, and make certain assumptions about this woman which may or may not be true. Maybe she really loves him, and would be with him if he was the assistant manager of Burger King, and came home to the trailer every night after his shift reeking of onions. And, maybe it's her choice to walk around with her big boobs hanging out. Hey, more power to her. It beats the hell out of what I did which was basically put on a heavy, dark, winter coat at the beginning of 10th grade and not take it off until I got married. Let me tell you, it gets damn hot in Texas in August in a heavy, dark, winter coat.
I suppose it's sad that I felt the need to cover myself up at a time when my body was, arguably, at its peak. If I had it to do over again, and knowing what I know now, I'd probably walk around looking just like our future first lady. Naw, that's just not me. I've always been super modest, and that's not going to change.
At least, I don't look like this. I'll just stick to a happy medium, and that is my choice, something that disgustingly cannot be said by every female on the planet.
I'll never forget talking to a coworker one day on break about 20 years ago. She seemed so surprised that I was a happily married woman. It turns out that she was one of those folks who assume women with large breasts are just naturally slutty broads. Apparently, she wasn't aware there are nuns with big boobs.
I wish I had a dollar for every person who has mentioned breast reduction surgery to me. I'd have around $43. BAHAHAHA. I have actually considered the surgery in the past. I would probably have done it if I weren't such a scaredy cat, but it's major, major surgery, and I'm not a big fan of needles and blood and pain. Speaking of needles and blood and pain; I had a scare several years ago with my left breast. I discovered a lump, and had to have a biopsy. I wasn't able to schedule the procedure right away. Well, you can just imagine the scenarios I played out in my mind for weeks and weeks. Thankfully, the biopsy was negative, but I learned a very valuable lesson. I learned that I love my boobs, and I don't want to lose one. I guess it's true that you don't appreciate what you've got until it's gone. Lesson learned.
