Boobs. I hate my boobs.
I've always had a love hate relationship with my orbs. Right now we are in a hate phase.
I remember when I got boobs. Over one summer, between 6th and 7th grade I went from the dreaded puffy nipple stage to a C cup. Great right? Not so much. I was one of the few girls at my co-ed grade school who came out so fully. There were a few problems. First, I did not have knowledge of fully supportive bras. Mine were more of the stretchy white fabric kind-no underwire. So when I moved I looked like I was carrying a tray of jello jigglers. The other problem was the boys. Once a guy asked if I wanted to play "poker"...ok...not smart- there were no cards involved. My initial reaction was to bitch slap him...which I did. Kids at that age also thought that if a girl had big boobs she was using them in dirty ways. They assumed that I had already "done stuff" since the arrival of the twins...stupid boys.
Over the course of high school I gained a small bit of respect for my ladies, but it wasn't until college until I fully appreciated them. Between the ages of 20-23 I loved my boobs. They were my big bouyant friends. Trashy as it sounds I knew that if I was at a crowded bar I could lean and get some quick service. If you got 'em right?- Don't judge me.
Now, as in post baby, I hate my boobs once more. I know that they are supposed to be a wonderful connection- yada yada, but my damn nursing bra is a G...thats right the
7th letter of the alphabet.
Now that I'm back to the gym it gets even worse. I wear a bra plus 2 sportsbras and I'm still making a milkshake everytime I move. In class today we were doing quick runs...you know, where you run really fast in place. YOu can make your own visual, but it wasn't pretty.
I know the grass is always greener...but a world where bra indents aren't there seems like the best place to me. I can't wait until I win the powerball...I'm going to have a nice perky B....