I am going to be brave (or is it irresponsible?) enough to write about boobs thanks to cjane's recent post. A topic people don't really talk a lot about because, well, bodies changing over time is so personal and different for everyone. Who cares about the evolution of my boobs through my life? Probably only me, but perhaps someone will be able to read this and relate- feel less isolated about such changes and feelings.
So here we go.....
7th grade: This was the first age I gave my chest a second thought. I was athletic, sporty, a tomboy and mostly won first place in any distance races for PE and track. I did not wear, nor need a bra. I didn't want one, I thought being able to run was pretty cool and boobs were not part of that equation. Cool, that is, until the boys started calling me late bloomer ("LB") after they had their Boys Only Sex Ed talk in the library. That was the beginning of Jr. High officially sucking for me regardless of how well I could race.
9th grade: For some reason my mom sent me to Dillard's with my step dad to purchase my first bra (?!). I stood bashfully in the midst of a bunch of strappy things that were not going to fit, it was torture. I hated that day more than any other up to that point in my life. I grabbed the first thing I saw hanging on the rack near the register. He said "don't you need more than one?" I grabbed another and it was over, never even tried it on. It became known in my family as The Nuclear Bra because it was constructed with so much material and padding it could withstand a nuclear war.
*magical summer*
10th grade: I was treated like a princess for at least a month. The boys that teased me were the first to ask for my number. Even girls in PE would ask me how my chest grew so big so fast. I passed up some of the more busty girls I had learned to envy. I bloomed, but it negatively affected my running. I secretly hated these things I had literally prayed for every night. Puberty kills a part of the athletic girl in a very distinct way.
college: I learned to work the wardrobe just right so I could catch the attention of my someday husband each time I walked by. Worked like a charm- he was hook, line and sinker. And he thinks he tricked me into the marriage.
newlywed: GOOD LORD they need to put a bigger warning label on birth control pills to prepare you for the enlargedness of the breasteses! I won't get into size letters here, but they were probably the best wedding present a woman could give a man.
pregnancy: pretty much double the newlywed joy.
milk comes in for nursing: Um. Hrm. Porn Star is the only thing that comes to mind.
post-nursing mommy bosoms: As the momentum was going at such an exciting rate, you can see only disappointment and depression could be experienced when it came to such a change. They left as quickly as they arrived in 10th grade. It's confusing to me how attached I was to my shape and how I related that to my level of attractiveness. It was a deflated adjustment I was not prepared for, like having Mylar helium balloons one day and water balloons the next.
So what do I think about breast augmentation? I don't have an opinion about what other people decide to do with their own bodies.
I am curious and fascinated and interested. I also have my children to respond to when I try to teach them about loving the bodies they have been blessed with, not sure how I feel about that lesson if I surgically altered my own. That is the hang-up I personally have when it comes to thinking about such a decision for my own body. I am officially on the fence.
