Elephant(s) in the room
Elephant(s) in the room
I just want to qualify this post to start off. You may not relate directly, but I hope you can try to identify the feelings and relate where you can.
I think I've always had conflicting feelings about my breasts. When I was very young I always wanted bigger. I think I felt kind of neglected being from a bigger family and noticed on television and in my personal life how women with larger chests seem to just GET attention. I didn't know why that was, and I especially didn't recognize what negative attention was, but I have a memory of crouching next to my bed and praying to God that my breasts would grow really big.
Fast forward to puberty and I started to get what I asked for and then some. This is where my conflicting feelings begin. I started to develop around the same time as other girls in my class but I just kept developing. I moved to america from Nigeria freshmen year of high school which I think exacerbated my feelings of being otherized. The town we lived in was mostly white upper middle class and now I was one of the only people around that looked like me, and the only person in my school that had my accent, never mind the fact that by sophomore year I had what I thought were double D cups (I realize now they were probably f cups in a D cup from Victoria's secret lol).
By this time I'd gotten a nickname that I didn't mind from friends, but hated when others would use. My nickname had always been Chiddy....which rhymes with titty... And therefore were used interchangeably depending on whether a teacher was around. It didn't help of course that my breasts kept growing while my understanding of bra sizes stayed the same.
Again I felt kind of conflicted as they crept up the alphabet.
By senior year I had firmly become "The girl with the massive boob" and lot of people's black friend, but...I was popular and well liked, which was great for me as a people pleasing introvert. This is also when I started to drink on the weekends and post more revealing pics on my instagram.
Freshman year of college was kind of a blur due to too much partying. I'm sure I'm blocking out a lot of shame based body shots and outfits I'd rather not remember falling out of. One thing I do remember is how cavalier people had become in asking me about my breasts, not just in person, but over Instagram. Although I had the occasional cameo, it was basically my boob's instagram that I just ran. Kinda addicted to the attention, which, again, wasn't all positive. My dating life had been eventful. Cute lacrosse player who liked big breasts but not relationships, hot guitar player who liked big breasts but not relationships, Even a sexy gamer bro who played football and really really loved really big breasts... But not really big relationships apparently... A pattern had definitely been forming... My breasts never stopped growing and neither did my affection toward emotionally distant men.
It was around junior year that I quit drinking and deleted my Instagram, realizing how toxic it was.
My weird love hate hate relationship with attention still needed an outlet though so I became more active in singing with my church. Now the topic of a reduction was becoming more common amongst women in my church group, my mom, sister, the lady bagging at whole foods... I didn't have any bras that fit so the quad boob effect probably made my H or J cups look even bigger than was totally necessary, but I didn't hate them, strap indents and all, and I didn't want a reduction.
What I wanted then is kind of what I still want now, which is the ability to have the biggest breasts in the room when I want, and hide them when I don't, which has become increasingly difficult over the years. Their constant growth has become the subject of family conversations, well meant but sometimes hurtful jokes, and a recurring thought for me.. "are they ever going to stop?"
I may need some kind of hormonal diagnosis at this point, but even STILL I'm worried a reduction might make them too small and take away some part of how "special" I am.
Maybe I'm just just an overthinker by nature, but I'm learning to be more comfortable with uncertainty.
IDK, sometimes I wonder about my own intentions in writing this much about it and posting in a public sub lol. But thx for reading.
I just want to qualify this post to start off. You may not relate directly, but I hope you can try to identify the feelings and relate where you can.
I think I've always had conflicting feelings about my breasts. When I was very young I always wanted bigger. I think I felt kind of neglected being from a bigger family and noticed on television and in my personal life how women with larger chests seem to just GET attention. I didn't know why that was, and I especially didn't recognize what negative attention was, but I have a memory of crouching next to my bed and praying to God that my breasts would grow really big.
Fast forward to puberty and I started to get what I asked for and then some. This is where my conflicting feelings begin. I started to develop around the same time as other girls in my class but I just kept developing. I moved to america from Nigeria freshmen year of high school which I think exacerbated my feelings of being otherized. The town we lived in was mostly white upper middle class and now I was one of the only people around that looked like me, and the only person in my school that had my accent, never mind the fact that by sophomore year I had what I thought were double D cups (I realize now they were probably f cups in a D cup from Victoria's secret lol).
By this time I'd gotten a nickname that I didn't mind from friends, but hated when others would use. My nickname had always been Chiddy....which rhymes with titty... And therefore were used interchangeably depending on whether a teacher was around. It didn't help of course that my breasts kept growing while my understanding of bra sizes stayed the same.
Again I felt kind of conflicted as they crept up the alphabet.
By senior year I had firmly become "The girl with the massive boob" and lot of people's black friend, but...I was popular and well liked, which was great for me as a people pleasing introvert. This is also when I started to drink on the weekends and post more revealing pics on my instagram.
Freshman year of college was kind of a blur due to too much partying. I'm sure I'm blocking out a lot of shame based body shots and outfits I'd rather not remember falling out of. One thing I do remember is how cavalier people had become in asking me about my breasts, not just in person, but over Instagram. Although I had the occasional cameo, it was basically my boob's instagram that I just ran. Kinda addicted to the attention, which, again, wasn't all positive. My dating life had been eventful. Cute lacrosse player who liked big breasts but not relationships, hot guitar player who liked big breasts but not relationships, Even a sexy gamer bro who played football and really really loved really big breasts... But not really big relationships apparently... A pattern had definitely been forming... My breasts never stopped growing and neither did my affection toward emotionally distant men.
It was around junior year that I quit drinking and deleted my Instagram, realizing how toxic it was.
My weird love hate hate relationship with attention still needed an outlet though so I became more active in singing with my church. Now the topic of a reduction was becoming more common amongst women in my church group, my mom, sister, the lady bagging at whole foods... I didn't have any bras that fit so the quad boob effect probably made my H or J cups look even bigger than was totally necessary, but I didn't hate them, strap indents and all, and I didn't want a reduction.
What I wanted then is kind of what I still want now, which is the ability to have the biggest breasts in the room when I want, and hide them when I don't, which has become increasingly difficult over the years. Their constant growth has become the subject of family conversations, well meant but sometimes hurtful jokes, and a recurring thought for me.. "are they ever going to stop?"
I may need some kind of hormonal diagnosis at this point, but even STILL I'm worried a reduction might make them too small and take away some part of how "special" I am.
Maybe I'm just just an overthinker by nature, but I'm learning to be more comfortable with uncertainty.
IDK, sometimes I wonder about my own intentions in writing this much about it and posting in a public sub lol. But thx for reading.
26-30, F
