I’m just going to put this out there…
I hate my tits.
I said it. Finally.
I always have hated them.
I’m completely aware right now that there will be eyerolls; that this could read as a “brag” and that I’m just after attention but I kinda don’t care now. It’s been said, it’s out there and how you feel about them will never change how I feel about them.
Let me take you back to 2001, when I wasn’t quite 13. My first ever bra fitting. I came home in a 32C. A very ‘adult’ size with an adult style Wonderbra because early teen bras did not come in that size back then. I’m not even sure they do early teen bras in actual sizings even now.
By the time I left school, at 16, I was a 30EE. I was constantly called a slut. I was accused of sleeping with everyone. I remember being accused of stuffing my bra, and having my bra snatched from me in the changing rooms after PE to ‘prove it’. Not that it was any better when there was no stuffing to take the piss out of.
I was called fat whenever I wore baggy clothes to cover them up. I was told my figure was weird when I didn’t cover up. Even as an adult these things have been said, and those words have stuck with me the whole time.
At 18 I’d hit an F cup, but dropped from a 30 back to a 28. I was in the midst of my eating disorder by then. Convinced that if I starved myself, and could get in to a size 6 jeans, that they’d eventually shrink too. It didn’t happen. I got in to the size 6 jeans but those boobs stuck around.
Now, at the age of 30 I’m dealing with a 32GG! The size I’ve been since having Roman.
They are heavy. They feel bruised. They are the bane of my existence.
They are still the (unwanted) focus of many.
I still hate them. In fact I hate them more now than I ever did before.
Those ‘sock marks’ from your bra straps and back band do not disappear in a few hours like they should, they are there a day later and have left bruised marks. Marks that I’m not sure will ever fade given how long they’ve been there now. There are even indents in my shoulders from where the weight is pulling on the straps of my bra, like the marks around my back aren’t enough. You can see the strain on the straps themselves, regardless of how much the band is working.
Bras work by the band forming the main support and the straps the secondary support, in case anyone wondered.
This is what it’s like when your breasts are heavy though. I won’t say large; large doesn’t always mean heavy and I know women with larger breast who don’t have these struggles.
It keeps being said, by those that don’t know me, that I need to have a proper fitting, but I have. I have had multiple fittings in numerous businesses and still it only seems to be worse.
My breastfeeding journey made it harder to love them. Being unable to actually breastfeed made my feelings worse. What’s the point of them being there if they don’t even do what they were naturally designed to do?!
I am currently going through the process to be approved for a breast reduction with the help from my GP, a therapist and a physiotherapist. Today was the day for clinical photography and I nearly had a nervous break down.
It wasn’t the easiest thing I’ve ever done (even the second time around), standing in a cold studio with nothing covering my top half was sickening. Silver lining, the photographer was a lovely woman, who did help to put me at ease but I still hid myself with the gown because of the knot in my stomach. I still felt the palpitations in my chest as I had to stand for the photos and I still dread the outcome.
I’m sat here praying the bruising and the marks so clearly enough on the photographs. I’m praying that the panel approve the application. I’m sat here wondering what my next step will be if they decline the application.
Now to me, this is part of my body positive journey. Body positive doesn’t mean you can’t change things. To me being body positive means being happy in my own skin and I know I can’t be happy with my body till I can stand up straight without pain, or I stop feeling my bra cutting in to my back and shoulders, and if that means I have to change something, it doesn’t mean I still can’t love me.