An Open Letter to my Boobs

Dear boobs,

I know we got off to a rough start. Even though it wasn’t your fault, I’ve always held a grudge against you for being small.

You’ll probably recall that my discontentment started at the age of nine when our (male!) principal awkwardly gave us fourth graders the sex talk, much to our bemusement. Remember how we were then separated from the boys so we could receive our menstruation and wet dreams talks separately? Even though all this information was hardly news to me (my sister had decided to enlighten me at the age of seven, making me terrified of boys for a while after that), for the first time ever I felt ashamed of my child-like body. From that day, my friends and I all began anxiously awaiting the day when puberty would find us so that we could look like Baywatch girls.

At last, at the age of eleven, you began to develop into little mounds. I was so excited and rushed off to buy my first training bra. So imagine my disappointment when, despite my patience, you never really got past the mosquito bite stage. You stopped growing before you’d even really started. I felt so betrayed by you.

Despite this, I insisted on wearing a bra even though, as many people have jokingly reminded me, “you wouldn’t wear gloves if you didn’t have hands, so why wear a bra?” However, I have to admit you were quite the trooper as you uncomplainingly endured the bra-snapping phase that all those boys inflicted upon us.

And so began my awkward phase of stuffing my bra and chanting “I must, I must, I must increase my bust!” (I think only 1990s kids would understand this.)

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That awkward middle school/ high school bra-stuffing phase (via YouTube)

As I transitioned into high school, I sadly wondered if boys would ever find me attractive despite being as flat as a pancake. I started buying padded bras and cringed every time someone would hug me. I could just imagine what they were thinking as the hardness of my bra collided with their chest followed by the swoosh of air that occupied my bra better than you ever did.

Swimming became another awkward event. Without fail, my bikini top would always pop off my chest and float above me since you were too small to hold it in place.

Don’t even get me started on how much I hate putting on a name tag because it obscures my entire boob region!

When I became pregnant with my twins,  a glimmer of hope flickered in me. Would I finally get big boobs? But no, even then you failed me. And you looked even smaller and more hopeless than usual against the backdrop of my gigantic belly.

But then the twins were born. And finally- finally!- my lifelong dream of owning big boobs was realised. I even forgave you when you decided you’d both differ by a whole cup size. All that mattered was that I was no longer an A cup.

Owning big boobs opened up a whole new world for me. I didn’t know how much running would hurt.  It had never occurred to me how sweaty I’d get under my boobs. And now when I talk to men, they never look me in the eye anymore! I suppose it’s a small sacrifice to pay.

As my breastfeeding relationship with my twins developed over time, I found myself actually growing quite fond of you. We were in this together,  you and I. When one twin developed thrush and ended up infecting both her sister and me, you calmly endured it. Together we learned how to latch the twins on properly, endured the pain of being engorged, watched with both horror and fascination as our nipples shot in and out of the pump flanges and yelped in pain through the teething stage. Through it all you, despite the years of hostility I’d shown you, you remained faithful.

I know the day will come when I’ll stop breastfeeding and you’ll shrink again. The way my luck goes, I’m almost certain you’ll become all shrivelled up and even smaller than you used to be.

But you know what? I’m honestly OK with that. In fact, I’m ashamed of all those times I cursed you. I’d like to take this opportunity to publicly apologise to you. You nourished not just one, but two babies. My girls gained weight well and are extremely healthy. And you took all the challenges that breastfeeding presented us in your stride. For that, I’ll be eternally grateful to you.

Besides, you’ve never failed to make my husband happy.

I’m a twin mommy who will make you feel better about your parenting skills. Sign up for e-mail updates at the bottom of this page if you want to follow my journey into insanity. You can also follow me on Facebook.

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