I've had a lot of body insecurities at various points in my life. My weight fluctuates, and I've struggled with that. I had a severe health crisis a few years ago and have a series of giant surgical scars running down the front of my body, much like a full body zipper. I've struggled with that, as well.
One would think, with all those factors, the bra size I wear would be the least of my concerns. But, if anything, my most consistent body issue has been my (lack of) cleavage.
I clearly remember, the summer before high school, shopping at the local mall with my mom and grandma. I wanted a bra, badly. I had no need for a bra. "Just buy her the smallest one and be done with it!" my grandma explained. I moped, but she was right. A few minutes later, we walked out with my brand new 34AA bra. I never knew AA was even a thing. It's barely a thing. It was my thing.
I'd love to say that I was a late bloomer. That sometime midway through high school I developed the body I always dreamed of. No such luck. I did get bigger in high school — but in the sense of gaining weight. As I put on 20 pounds, my breasts did eventually get to upgrade to an A cup. It was still sort of big on me. It was the best I was going to get, and I relished it.
My mom — who wears a 36A herself — claims she "ballooned" to a B when pregnant. I've yet to experience pregnancy, so I can't vouch for these claims, but I can say that as my weight has fluctuated, and I've been on and off various birth control pills (which allegedly make them bigger, but they actually don't) and diets (I've been as little as a size 0 and as much as a size 10, but my bra remains the same), I've never gone past that A cup.
The men I've been with have claimed they don't care. That I still have "hot" nipples and the size does not in any way get in the way of sensitivity or fun. This may or may not be true, but I can tell you they haven't been fun for me.
But there's been so many times and ways that I've felt that my breasts DID get in the way. Or, rather, that they should be getting in the way, and weren't. If I had larger breasts, would perhaps a small belly be less noticeable? Perhaps would my body — not all that petite outside of my breasts — be more in proportion? And while I'm told all the time how lucky I am that I can easily get away with not wearing a bra, and that I'll never sag, is that really a good thing? Because that very benefit absolutely makes me feel less feminine.
Now I'm in my mid-30s and for the last decade or so, firmly at 36A. I don't think I'm ever going to get any bigger, barring divine intervention.
I've had this "issue" more than half my life. I've seriously considered a boob job — there's a nifty surgical option out there where you can transfer fat from one area of your body to another and I've downright FANTASIZED about the possibilities — but I wonder how greatly I have influenced my own insecurity.
I often don't bother wearing a bra — again, because I can! — but if I invested in quality pushup bras and shape wear, and wore them regularly, maybe I'd feel better about my body and myself? Wearing baggy sweaters and no bra isn't "comfortable" and doesn't leave room for the imagination. It just makes you appear sloppy.
And so, here I am, in a place in my life where I really do love so much about myself, but hate this one part of my body. And I wonder how this small breast insecurity is impacting other areas. What really does small boobs mean outside of wardrobe choices and a decreased chance of a future career as a HOOTERS waitress? I bet we all have something we really don't love about ourselves, be that something be internal or visible for the world to see.
Maybe the larger message is to always love ourselves, no matter who that self is? Also, buy more pushup bras and marry a plastic surgeon. These are all the answers.
One would think, with all those factors, the bra size I wear would be the least of my concerns. But, if anything, my most consistent body issue has been my (lack of) cleavage.
I clearly remember, the summer before high school, shopping at the local mall with my mom and grandma. I wanted a bra, badly. I had no need for a bra. "Just buy her the smallest one and be done with it!" my grandma explained. I moped, but she was right. A few minutes later, we walked out with my brand new 34AA bra. I never knew AA was even a thing. It's barely a thing. It was my thing.
I'd love to say that I was a late bloomer. That sometime midway through high school I developed the body I always dreamed of. No such luck. I did get bigger in high school — but in the sense of gaining weight. As I put on 20 pounds, my breasts did eventually get to upgrade to an A cup. It was still sort of big on me. It was the best I was going to get, and I relished it.
My mom — who wears a 36A herself — claims she "ballooned" to a B when pregnant. I've yet to experience pregnancy, so I can't vouch for these claims, but I can say that as my weight has fluctuated, and I've been on and off various birth control pills (which allegedly make them bigger, but they actually don't) and diets (I've been as little as a size 0 and as much as a size 10, but my bra remains the same), I've never gone past that A cup.
The men I've been with have claimed they don't care. That I still have "hot" nipples and the size does not in any way get in the way of sensitivity or fun. This may or may not be true, but I can tell you they haven't been fun for me.
But there's been so many times and ways that I've felt that my breasts DID get in the way. Or, rather, that they should be getting in the way, and weren't. If I had larger breasts, would perhaps a small belly be less noticeable? Perhaps would my body — not all that petite outside of my breasts — be more in proportion? And while I'm told all the time how lucky I am that I can easily get away with not wearing a bra, and that I'll never sag, is that really a good thing? Because that very benefit absolutely makes me feel less feminine.
Now I'm in my mid-30s and for the last decade or so, firmly at 36A. I don't think I'm ever going to get any bigger, barring divine intervention.
I've had this "issue" more than half my life. I've seriously considered a boob job — there's a nifty surgical option out there where you can transfer fat from one area of your body to another and I've downright FANTASIZED about the possibilities — but I wonder how greatly I have influenced my own insecurity.
I often don't bother wearing a bra — again, because I can! — but if I invested in quality pushup bras and shape wear, and wore them regularly, maybe I'd feel better about my body and myself? Wearing baggy sweaters and no bra isn't "comfortable" and doesn't leave room for the imagination. It just makes you appear sloppy.
And so, here I am, in a place in my life where I really do love so much about myself, but hate this one part of my body. And I wonder how this small breast insecurity is impacting other areas. What really does small boobs mean outside of wardrobe choices and a decreased chance of a future career as a HOOTERS waitress? I bet we all have something we really don't love about ourselves, be that something be internal or visible for the world to see.
Maybe the larger message is to always love ourselves, no matter who that self is? Also, buy more pushup bras and marry a plastic surgeon. These are all the answers.
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