Tell Me What You Don't Like About Yourself

I was in the 6th grade the first time a boy made a comment about my boobs. I don't remember too much about it honestly. It was in Spanish class. It was a boy I had a crush on. It made me feel simultaneously embarrassed and thrilled. He'd noticed me. Maybe these were good for something.

I developed very early - probably 5th grade when I started wearing a sports bra. I actually probably needed a real bra, but I'm not sure my mom thought so or knew how to deal with a kid who had C cups by the 7th grade.

I was also going through my anorexic period then, so my young body was slim waisted and very, very curvy. Boys who hadn't given me the time of day previously were talking to me, making comments on how I looked. When I was 13, I was being sexualized by my peers.

I was obviously older here. 18 maybe? 

Even I'm overwhelmed by my bosom.

I remember ditching band class for weeks in high school because the other kids in the saxophone section - all boys - made lewd jokes about me. I tried to play along at first, but it only got worse, and it made me so uncomfortable that I'd spend that class period hiding in the library. Every night I'd intercept the automated phone call from the attendance office notifying my parents that I'd skipped class. Until one day my band teacher actually called my house. And I had to explain to him, and my parents, why I'd been ditching.

It was utterly humiliating. Their solution was to move me to a higher level band class. Did the boys ever know, ever get reprimanded? I don't know.

Having big breasts seems to give people the notion that it's okay to talk about them to you. It makes you feel like a freak show. I remember hanging with some friends of mine. I was probably 16 or 17. One of the guy friends told me that we were playing a game, and to run at him. When I did, he grabbed my breasts. I guess the game was for him to grope me in front of all our mutual friends. I laughed it off. I always laughed it off.

At my sister's wedding. I looked like the prow of a ship.

When I was just out of high school I was working at a fast food place. One of the guys there was constantly saying inappropriate things to me, and I just brushed it off. One day, I was working the drive thru, and out of nowhere he grabbed my breast. I was furious - finally! I got mad! Why did it take so long for this inappropriate bullshit to spark the anger in me that should have been there all along? I stormed into the manager's office and demanded the guy be fired, or I'd walk. A friend of mine that worked there said he'd leave, too. They fired the guy; though I heard they hired him back after I left because he was such a good worker.

People still make comments, joke that they can't keep their eyes off my chest. And yeah, it makes me hate my boobs. They draw unwanted attention. I often feel they're the only attractive thing about me. Which is the only reason I hesitate - to have a breast reduction.

Even though I was thin here I still was very top heavy.

I'm in pain all the time - my back hurts, my shoulders hurt. Buying bras requires taking out a loan. A reduction would surely help, but there are some hoops. For insurance to cover it, back pain must be caused by the weight of my chest. I have to go to physical therapy first. And no one's said it yet, but likely they'll want me to go on a diet.

You've been here long enough. You know that's not where I'm headed. Body liberation doesn't encompass dieting. Something most people inevitably fail at anyway. I don't wanna yoyo anymore. I want my body to exist as it is, however that is, at any given time. I'm terrified of being told to lose weight - it triggers so much self loathing in me. It triggers anorexic thoughts, and excessive exercise habits. I fight constantly to be okay with being me. I don't want to back slide.

So the other route would be out of pocket. I could start saving, eventually make it work. It will change my life - but how? Will I look fatter? Will I be attractive at all? Are my freakish boobs the most interesting thing about me, and will minimizing them minimize me?

Will I be as much fun? Will I be feminine enough? 

Will I still carry two Coors lights at parties???

I don't know where I'm at with this. If money weren't an issue, that would definitely tip me in the direction of doing it. What about the pain? The recovery time? What if it's the last piece of me that people see any value in? What if it makes me less attractive? Why do I still care about being attractive to people???

It's not an easy decision, or an easy thing to talk about. But when have I ever taken the easy road?