When I was 13, I remember thinking, “Man, I can’t wait to get boobs.”
My grandmother, mom, and sister all have great boobs, so it made sense that I would soon have them. Well, it never happened.
I mean, I have boobs, but my bra size is 34A. They just stopped growing. They’re “forgot to wear a bra and didn’t notice” small. Sometimes I wish I could cut the fat off from inside my thighs and stuff it in my boobs.
During sex, I consistently feel insecure about my small chest. I usually don’t take my shirt off unless the guy does it for me. I know I shouldn’t feel ashamed of my body, and I’m far more confident than I was 10 years ago, but I really want to experience what it’s like to have big boobs. I get jealous of women with boobs larger than mine and I’ve seriously considered getting implants.
I hate that I’ve thought that, because I feel like I’ve just been brainwashed by our male-dominated society’s vision of the ideal woman. I know that any man who judges you by your breast size and stares at women with big tits is gross, but I can’t lie — sometimes I still want to see what that would be like.
There are good things about being flat — it’s very useful for modeling, for one. I’m not sure I would have booked as many jobs with a larger chest. I have no problems running or working out, and I don’t have to worry about finding a bra that fits properly. Umm, I can’t think of any other advantages… no sagging as I age? I guess?
I used to think that I was supposed to be born a boy. I look more like my dad, I’m good at sports, I always wanted to be a part of the guys’ circle in school, I love racing cars, and I think my ears, hands, and teeth are too big for my body. After writing that out for the first time it sounds really dumb, but that was my reasoning.
I never wore dresses or skirts until a few years ago. If I had cut my hair off in high school, my wardrobe would make you think I was a dude. I didn’t have a boyfriend or any guy that was interested in me until I was 17. I didn’t go to prom or any dances because the one time I did ask a guy to a dance he said no.
My super girly friends from middle school ditched me when we got to high school because I didn’t fit in with them anymore. Did I mention I just got my ears pierced two months ago? I barely wear jewelry because it makes me feel uncomfortable and doesn’t look natural to me. I also don’t wear a ton of makeup, and lipstick gives me the same uncomfortable feeling jewelry does. (I smell a deep-rooted problem surfacing, can’t wait to find out what it is!)
Sometimes I’ll wear padded bras to commercial and TV auditions because I assume girls with big boobs get more jobs.
Am I missing out by having small boobs? I know there are guys who love smaller-chested women or don’t have a preference, and I appreciate them. No guy I’ve dated has ever said anything to me about my boobs, probably because if he did I would never sleep with him again and/or write a blog about him.
I’ve talked about implants with guys I’ve dated, and they’ve all said, “Do whatever makes you happy.”
That’s not very helpful. It’s the right answer, but I was looking for an opinion.
Swimsuit shopping is always a nightmare, though, since the tops have to be extra, extra, extra small. I recently ordered a size XSmall swimsuit top from the Peter Pilotto for Target collection online, since it was sold out in stores. It fit perfectly around my body, but the cup size was a joke. It was meant for a girl with at least a C cup. I called it an “LA sized XSmall.” My roommate has big boobs and hers barely filled it out.
I’ve apologized for my small boobs more than I should have. Occasionally I’ll get sent on a swimsuit or lingerie casting (have never in my life booked either job) and in the modeling world you have to go to EVERY casting because you never know what they’re looking for. One particular casting I had to try on a bra and underwear, and walk back out into a room where 3 people were staring at me. I could literally put my fist in the cup of the bra while it was on and it was still too big. I always smile to hide my uncomfortableness, but I felt straight up embarrassed standing there. Obviously I wasn’t right for this job, but they took pictures anyway, at least they weren’t assholes.
I’m assuming as I get older, my confidence in my femininity will slowly fall into place. At least I hope so. Until then, I’ll keep squeezing my boobs together in the mirror and applying my Laura Mercier bronzer to create the coveted “cleavage shadow.”