Being so svelte meant I either got mistaken for a boy (yes, this happened more than once, when I had really short hair) or people thought I was about five years younger than my actual age. (As you will remember from a previous blog, this still happens!)
The main factor in both of these issues was my chest size. The factor being that it wasn't of any size at all. Whatsoever. In fact, it was perhaps even inverted there was so little there. Whilst friends were buying their first bras, I was still in crop tops (bless). Whilst friends HAD to wear bras with certain outfits, I could quite happily get away with nothing. I got bullied at school for being flat chested and I used to cry to my mum that it was so unfair. Why was I abnormal? Was this what life was going to be like for me FOREVER?!?
Oh how I wish I could eat my words now...
Now, I have the complete and utter opposite problem. Once they started, they just wouldn't stop. Well, I think they stopped about three or four years ago, but at one point I was quite concerned they may take over the world (or maybe just Essex). People who knew me at school now don't recognise me. People who didn't see me for a few years ask "Where the hell did THEY come from?!". Believe me, if I knew that, I would send them back.
It's not like I've taken after my mum or even grandmothers. It seems like I am a complete anomaly, special in my own
Many people wonder why I complain. The general consensus from girls is "Oh my God, I would LOVE to have your boobs!" (Actually, that's probably the main feeling from boys as well, but for a whole different reason...) Girls jealously admire my cleavage, looking down at their own B-cups and wishing they didn't have to stuff their bras with chicken fillets. In the mean time, I'm jealously staring back wishing I could give them some of mine so we were both satisfied.
There are a multitude of problems to be had when you have big boobs. For a start, I suffer with neck and back pain as a result. It's actually quite a lot of effort to carry these around you know! Sometimes I wish I could hire someone to walk behind me with their hands round the front just holding them up for me. (Actually, if this became a real job, it could drag Britain out of the recession faster than you can say underwire. Just a thought.)
I am also expected to pay INSANE amounts for my bras. Anyone under a DD-cup can happily wander into any high street store, underwear shop or even supermarket and buy a nice, pretty bra for as little as about five quid. Bikinis? No problem. About ten quid all in from Matalan. Done. But for me? No. I have to use "specialist" shops. Just like really fat people! A decent bra for me will cost upwards of £35 a time and bikinis are even more. It's as if the size of your chest is relative to how much cash they expect you to have. (If this were true, I reckon men with moobs would get a lot more action.)
I also struggle to wear a hell of a lot of things. If it's strapless, backless, halterneck or a size 12 (my usual dress size), I will struggle. My strapless bra actually adds an extra size to my chest as it has to be extra thick to be supportive. Halternecks make me look like a rugby player and the only time I EVER go without a bra is in bed or in the shower. Believe me, you should all thank me for this.
Now I don't cry to my mum wondering where they are. I cry after a tiring day's shopping where every single thing I've tried on has been too small up top. Dresses rarely fit me, shirts don't stay done up at the front and anything with buttons has a gaping hole. Of course, the "specialist" shops will solve all these problems for me, as long as I don't mind paying three times the price. How kind of them.
I know we should be happy with what we've got and in some circumstances, I am. I have a bit of a love/hate relationship going on with "my girls". But I will always, always wonder why people PAY to make theirs bigger. They should carry a couple of water balloons around in a bra for a week. I wonder if they'd change their mind...
