I hate my boobs. I only resented them before I gained weight, but now I actually hate them.
This is kind of like how people with curly hair envy people with straight hair, or like a guy married to a fashion model wishes he was married to the Olympic gymnast next door. The grass is always greener, you know?
I’ve spent my whole life as a little woman. Short in stature with small feet; I never weighed much and was the owner of very tiny boobs. I’ll admit it. I suffered from Boob Envy. Women with cleavage just pissed me off. I could never understand why anyone would want to get a breast reduction. Pass some over here, sister! I’ll take some off of your hands!
My breast feeding days were glorious. I remember giving my babies a bottle for the feeding prior to leaving on the rare occasions I would go out. I just wanted those puppies to fill up and be stunning. They didn’t let me down. What I didn’t realize about those days was that I would go home, feed the baby and they would relax to their righteous size again. I didn’t have to carry a couple of watermelons around for longer than I wanted to.
So, I finally quit smoking last year. I packed on the expected pounds to go along with the quitting. I was fine with it. I knew it would only be temporary until I was back in control of myself again. What I didn’t expect was how my boobs would grow. They grew and grew and grew. It was like Jack and the Boobstalk. Nothing could stop them. I’ve outgrown three bra sizes in this past year.
At first, I was tickled silly. Who would have thought that the extra weight would go there? Then some weight went into my ass. Then more went into my boobs and some went into my belly. Then my boobs got bigger again right before my thighs took a hit. Then it was back to the boobs. It seems that my boobs got every other weight gain.
Now, I despise bras more than I ever did previously. But, I must wear one if I’m in public, because I have these nipply things that are much more predominant than previously. Without the bra (which cuts into me hideously), my boobs hang low. They greatly contribute to my hot flashes by lying against the bare skin of my abdomen and thus generating more heat. It hurts when they bounce due to my non-bra wearing ways. They get in the way when I want to cross my arms. My back is starting to hurt. Blouses don’t fit right. Yes, I’m now whining that my boobs are too big.
They have become my major incentive to lose weight. I will gladly get rid of these behemoths and am looking forward to the resumption of my tiny titties. Thus, I declare my intentions here, to all who care to listen, that the big boobs must go. With New Year’s just almost here, I can wait no longer. I will raise my glass of SlimFast in a toast and declare that with God as my witness, I will never complain about an A cup again!