Boobs

I ordered a really cute dress that was on sale last week. It came in the mail yesterday but I waited until this morning to try it on. The image reflecting back at me from the mirror was not what I was hoping for.

I looked like Miss Molly Milk Maid offering you my rack of lamb.

Holy. Boobs.

I always liked my chest. It suited my frame just fine and I certainly rocked the cleavage in high school and my early years of college. But then came junior year. One day I went to put on my favorite tank top and it didn't fit. I struggled to get it over my chest doing one of those awkward, twirly dances you know you've done in a dressing room when the dress you picked was too small.

I called Elle into my room and presented her with the problem. "Huh," she said. "They got bigger!" Bigger? Why did they get bigger? I didn't want them to get bigger! I was happy with what I had before. After much deliberation and denial on my part, Elle convinced me a trip to Victoria's Secret was in order. Time for new bras.

We walked into the store and I picked out a few in my old size, determined that they would fit and the tank top had shrunk. Elle laughed when I let her in the dressing room and told me I could not walk around with my chest up to my chin. She left and I stood there, staring at myself in the mirror and trying to wrap my head around it. This is what women want, right? Big boobs? But all of the sudden I felt self-conscious and so much more aware of them than I ever had before.

Suddenly Elle thrust her arm over the door and said, "try this one on." It was a D. I refused. "I am not a D!" I yelled at her. But she made me. So I did.

And it fit. Perfectly.

I left the store with my new bras and a feeling like I was going through adolescence all over again. It just felt weird.

Over the next couple weeks other people began to notice. My sorority sisters were making comments. My roommates were making comments. (I was no Boobeski, but it was a noticeable change.) After a visit home my sister started calling me "D's". Michael was making a lot of comments. Needless to say, he did not see this as a problem. But I was starting to feel like my boobs were what people were noticing about me first. Not my big smile, my sense of humor or intelligent questions. My boobs.

I know some of you are rolling your eyes. Thinking, what is she complaining about? Maybe you have nice B's that fit perfectly into any any top or bathing suit you try on. I don't.

I have to pass by all the cute spaghetti strapped, empire waisted, flowy tops because I look like I could serve you dinner off my chest. I could never wear a strapless dress without looking like a linebacker.

But I do put things in perspective. My mom was lucky that her breast cancer did not result in a mastectomy. Many women are not so lucky. Thousands of women, even women my age, have lots their breasts to cancer.

When I step back and look at it that way, having large breasts may be an inconvenience, but things could be so much worse.

I'm really disappointed about that dress, though.

A Weighty Issue

Growing up I was always very thin. So thin, in fact, that an 8th grade french trip to Quebec was nearly ruined by a group of girlfriends who turned on me and told everyone I was anorexic. Which I was not.

I started dancing when I was three and by 17 I was a thin girl with a dancer's body. But I never really thought much about my weight. I was how I was.

And then came college. And the late nights and the dining hall food and the drinking. And consequently, a few extra pounds. I started working out and got healthy again, but the body I had in high school is long gone. I enjoy the curves that come with being a woman, and I get compliments on my body, but every now and then I am find I’m still unhappy with it.

I know I’m going to get flack for this. Michael will tell me I’m crazy. Friends will tell me that at 24 I wouldn’t want the body of an 18 year old. And maybe it’s true that only I hate my thighs.

A friend of mine is coming to visit this weekend. I am so happy that she will be here but a part of me is apprehensive about it. She’s tiny…just over 5 feet and has lost a lot of weight since college. She looks great and I’m happy for her. But there’s that voice in the back of my head that won’t stop comparing myself to her. When she’s around I feel like a house despite my 5’6”, size 6 frame.

Do men have these issues or is it reserved strictly to women? Because it really sucks.

Randomness

*What is it about the hours between 3 and 5? I like my job (I'm serious. I really do like my job!) but even with stuff to do those last two hours just drag.

*I mentioned how The Last Kiss is completely heart-wrenching. So I'm coming down from the bad after taste of the movie as I'm scanning the channels last night. I stop on Nip/Tuck. Just as the married plastic surgeon is cheating on his pregnant wife! What the hell?! Insert psycho internal conflict:

-Oh my god he's going to cheat on me.

-No he's not. He loves you. He would never cheat on you.

-But what if he meets some perky brunette (ahhh die Rachel Bilson) and has an affair.

-He loves you

-Arrrrrrggghhhhhh!!!

Cut to Michael reassuring me that, no, he would never cheat on me. He loves me. He will always love me.

I'm sticking to romantic comedies from now on.

*I have to go grocery shopping. I hate grocery shopping. The responsible part of me heads to the chicken, the vegetables and healthy cereal, stocking up for the week ahead.

The irresponsible part of me (the one that is still an 18-year old loose in the store for the first time..."I'm on my own! I can eat whatever I want!") is eyeing the peanut butter cup ice cream and the Doritos. The thing is, I'm not 18 anymore. When I was 18 I could eat a huge bowl of pasta with butter and Parmesan cheese (mmmmmm), then turn around and eat half a pint of ice cream and never see a fluctuation in my weight.

Yeah. That's not the case anymore. I guess I'll be heading directly to the fruits and vegetables. Although let's be honest, when Michael works late I sometimes still eat that big bowl of pasta. It's so easy.

And SO GOOD.