I strongly dislike my boobs with a passion.
Oh sure, I appreciate what they have done. They have nurtured my sweet babes from their first moments on earth (my babies’ first moments, not my breasts). They made it easy to feed anywhere, wearing virtually anything.
They have comforted and put to sleep.
They have been a place to rest a sweet-smelling head in the middle of the night.
I appreciate them, but no – I don’t like them very much at all.
I never had big breasts to start off with. They always fit my frame and that’s about that.
And with each pregnancy, instead of them getting a little bigger each time, they got smaller when I finished feeding.
When you don’t have a lot to start with… Well…
I’m doing so much work at the gym to get my body looking and feeling better.
In my kitchen, in my life in general, my life is looking better.
The only thing I cannot work to make it look better, is my breasts.
Why after doing so much work and being happy with the rest of me, should I be forced to be disappointed by only one part?
I always feel like I’m less of a woman when you see these signs “Real women have curves” “Today’s woman” on larger cupped bras, “a woman without curves is like jeans without pockets – where do you put your hands?”
And yes, I HAVE had big boobs, each pregnancy they got up to an e so I don’t need lectures about how I will regret it and how I should be grateful about not needing to wear a bra – because I always need to wear one so I don’t look like a 12 year old boy.
It is a purely cosmetic procedure, sure.
But so is getting your hair dyed.
And yes, I understand there are a lot more risks than getting your hair dyed, but I won’t feel complete until I have them.
No, I don’t have a date yet.
Any one want to give me the $6k to get them?