Dear Boobs,
I remember when you first popped into my life. I was 11 years old. It was a brisk fall day and my mother made me stand under a cherry blossom tree to take a picture wearing a tight, cream turtleneck sweater. When she developed the pictures, there you were..poking out in broad daylight, like aspirins on an ironing board. I refused to accept that you were going to be a part of my life.
When my Wonder Woman Underoos weren't doing the job anymore, I started to wear tight tank tops under my shirts to conceal you. I wanted to hide you from the world because I wasn't quite ready to advance into 'womanhood'. My grandmother would refer to you as 'mosquito bites'. All the other girls I knew were already wearing bras and the boys would joke about "Over the Shoulder Boulder Holders". I didn't want any of that attention, but you didn't listen. Noooo... you just insisted on growing and forced me into the teen bra section at Sears- damn you.
But over time, my resentment of you started to fade away. It was hard being in junior high and seeing 'Tina' with the biggest blouse bunnies one could ever imagine...in the 8th grade. (Everyone has a 'Tina' in school--that one overdeveloped girl in their class that the boys flock to.)
As I started to take an interest in boys, your interest in growing seemed to be put on the back burner. You just couldn't make up your mind. You started to frustrate me and I took it personal. It was like you were paying me back for being such a bitch to you when you made your first appearance under that cherry blossom tree.
High school is when you and I started to become allies. You decided that it was my time to shine and you transitioned from mosquito bites to boobies. You weren't as big as I wanted...yet. But I was happy to occupy my bra with your presence. I started to feel more like a woman instead of a prepubescent schoolboy.
By the time college came around, you were in full bloom...your prime... you weren't boobies anymore..you were tits. Sexy tits. Victoria's Secret sexy tits. I referred to you as 'The Girls' and boy did you get a lot of attention. You were fondled, you were pinched, you were grabbed, you were sucked, you brought ecstasy to my life. I never realized how sensitive you were. You were perky and cute yet erotic and strong. You gave my self esteem the boost I needed. I was no longer embarrassed to be associated with you or my sexual self. You had become one with me.
Life went on and then came marriage and babies.
I never knew how much you would change when my babies entered the picture. Our relationship had become a roller coaster of emotions. When I was pregnant, You decided to transform into sloppy, ugly National Geographic fun bags. You were no longer 'tits'..you became 'breasts'. I couldn't even look at you in the mirror. You disappointed me...but I never gave up on you.
You redeemed yourself right after I gave birth. You became delicious flesh melons. I changed your name to 'stripper boobs' because you were perfectly round and voluptuous---- you were back to tits. I missed you. I wanted you to stay like this forever...
But life goes on, seasons change and so do boobs.
I would never consider replacing you with fake ones. You've been good to me. I'm blessed to have you. I'm sure that there are a lot of women out there with cancer-stricken boobs that would kill for a pair like you. So, just know, that I appreciate you and have never taken you for granted and never will.
We've had a love/hate relationship up until now and you will always be a part of me...
(even if I secretly wish to have the stripper boobs back )
Love Always,
Me
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