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Justbychance 路 M
To make this as brief as I can:
It goes, that when I was born I was given to the wrong Mother when it was time to feed. Apparently, I wouldn't 'latch on' (as the expression went back then) and I would not feed from the breast of the wrong Mother. On the third attempt, the matron in charge slapped my tiny bum which made me cry; taking the opportunity, the nurse placing my open mouth to this imposters breast which I still would [i]NOT[/i] allow myself to be attached to.
Whilst at the same time, in another ward, my very real Mother struggled to feed the baby she had in her arms; on recalling back, she told me how she had a distinct feeling that the baby in her arms wasn't 'me'. Two hours later, it was discovered there had been a mix-up and I was reunited to my real Mother.
You see, as that goes, and as I became older, went into puberty and into the world of exploring matters of a sexual nature, I discovered I had a distinct problem with large breasted women. Just to be close to large boobs had me almost breaking out in a sweat and the need to pull away; I actually considered that it was a phobia which linked back to my very early childhood days. As I became older, the panic of being confronted with large boobs gradually paled, but I was beyond my teenage years by then.
That, of course, is all true. So ... LOL.
Boob size [i]still ][/i]matters even in my current years[/i] There is much to be said about 'Too much to hold is too much', and maybe I can see that given the history of how I was first initiated into being given to the 'wrong Mother'.
[Wow; what a long answer, but you do get to see why I have issues with large breasts and my still lingering dislike ... 馃槅)
It goes, that when I was born I was given to the wrong Mother when it was time to feed. Apparently, I wouldn't 'latch on' (as the expression went back then) and I would not feed from the breast of the wrong Mother. On the third attempt, the matron in charge slapped my tiny bum which made me cry; taking the opportunity, the nurse placing my open mouth to this imposters breast which I still would [i]NOT[/i] allow myself to be attached to.
Whilst at the same time, in another ward, my very real Mother struggled to feed the baby she had in her arms; on recalling back, she told me how she had a distinct feeling that the baby in her arms wasn't 'me'. Two hours later, it was discovered there had been a mix-up and I was reunited to my real Mother.
You see, as that goes, and as I became older, went into puberty and into the world of exploring matters of a sexual nature, I discovered I had a distinct problem with large breasted women. Just to be close to large boobs had me almost breaking out in a sweat and the need to pull away; I actually considered that it was a phobia which linked back to my very early childhood days. As I became older, the panic of being confronted with large boobs gradually paled, but I was beyond my teenage years by then.
That, of course, is all true. So ... LOL.
Boob size [i]still ][/i]matters even in my current years[/i] There is much to be said about 'Too much to hold is too much', and maybe I can see that given the history of how I was first initiated into being given to the 'wrong Mother'.
[Wow; what a long answer, but you do get to see why I have issues with large breasts and my still lingering dislike ... 馃槅)
SpiritOfSoul 路 26-30, F
You explained your point quite well