Written: 19 JANUARY, 2017
We started our relationship off on the wrong foot. You see, it all started back when I was 15 and all the girls around me were getting all the curves. Their boobs were growing and they were all, in my opinion, looking rather fabulous. I was jealous and embarrassed. I struggled to change in the changing rooms and hid my front as much as possible- changing like a ninja. My grandma knew I was disappointed and proceeded to buy me a blow up bra- the ones that came with a little pump you popped into a spring loaded chute and pumped until you reached your desired size.
Once on- I went from flat to Pamela. Though rather exciting, it was a little too much too soon. People would have talked! So of course, I went for the usual route a flat-chested now 16 year old would do- tissues. You know, just enough to make it look like you’d at least started growing. Having zero chest did have it’s advantages of course- one could gallop around a cross-country course and come first. There was no need to hold you down when darting through school late for class and I didn’t need to spend my childhood with boys staring below eye level. However, for a girl with low self-esteem, none of this mattered at the time. I wanted boobs, big boobs, small boobs, pert boobs or saggy- I didn’t care- just something! I cried many tears over the fact that my body didn’t look womanly like others and I genuinely found it hard to deal with. That constant comparison girls have the innate ability to do all the time is soul-destroying and totally messes around with your emotions and those raging hormones.
When I hit 17, you started to appear and of course, excitement set in. As did the puffed out, pigeon chest to prove that you had started poking through my tops. But, by the time I had hit 21, growth had been minimal. Still measuring an A cup (an improvement of course) I needed to come to terms with the fact that you, my dear boobies, were going to remain small.
Fast forward several years and when I became pregnant, you were the first to let me know. You were in agony, so much so I couldn’t put on a seatbelt without feeling pain around my chest like I’d never felt before. You wanted to tell me so soon- just 7 days after the transfer. As times went on I was told how much bigger and voluptuous I would get. However, this didn’t happen and I actually didn’t go up a cup size. When I was being measured in JoJo the woman informed me that I should wait until 36 weeks pregnant to just confirm how big you were going to get- I obviously told her how ridiculous that is when you hadn’t even grown in 35 weeks. Not much was going to change in a week.
I was scared, finally the time had come to do what nature had intended for you. Would we be able to, were we going to get through the pain and those initial stages. As soon as Arlo was born I knew I was desperate for him to latch on. To be as close to me as possible and he did- with such ease it was one of the most magical things I have ever done.
Of course Arlo was much bigger than I was expecting and the first thing that came into my mind was how on earth I was going to satisfy and grow this bruiser of a babe but…we did it. We did it together for 6 months and it has been my biggest achievement yet. He has grown absolutely perfectly just with you, my little boobs which I hated for so many years. Boobs I have disregarded and dissed- you have been amazing. You made it so easy for Arlo to feed and I just want to thank you, thank you for being my boobs.
Arlo weaned himself onto formula and that’s fine- I’ve dealt with that. The first few days were tough and hormones were raging. I will always miss that bond.
A couple of days ago you were completely empty. I got out of the shower and stared at you in the mirror. You are back to your old selves but you look different. In fact, smaller, a little saggier and no where near as pert. But you know what- I will never judge you for that. In fact I enjoy looking at you now more so than ever, despite not being as you were before, because I know what you have been through and what we achieved and for that, I am truly grateful. If I could go back to my former 16 year old self, I would tell her about this journey and tell her: it’s OK, it’s all going to be OK because your boobs are bloody fabulous and will do the one job they are put on our bodies to do. They will do this job absolutely perfectly. Your boobs are actually fucking marvellous.
Lots of Love