I know, you’re thinking, “Elizabeth, it’s heart to heart”. No. I can’t stop thinking about my chest and quite possibly, yours.
I have had my boobs since I was 13 and I must say, I’m a little, um, attached. Through all my body ups and downs and criticisms, I have always been quite happy with my boobs. They have never been the perkiest little bags of fun, but when you have a full C at 13 and a full D at 18, you get over the minute presence of natural gravity.
I knew that I had a big chance of losing some size due to losing weight. After the first 25 pounds I lost, I was thrilled to discover that I hadn’t gone down in cup size. My band size has changed, but those cups remained the same. Score one to me.
Just 8 pounds later, my boobs have gone to shit.
First, let me talk about my best friend. She is pregnant and her bra is currently bursting. This girl has complained about having small (perfectly round and perky, might I add) breasts and has always wished they were bigger. Now that they are, she takes it all back. I could tell they had grown, but until she decided it was time for me to see the horror in the flesh, I didn’t realize what was going on under those t-shirts.
This girl lifts her shirt and I swear, I thought I was looking at Pamela Anderson, pre-implant removal (and then of course, subsequent implant renewal).
No joke, this is my best friend, minus Kid Rock and the beer (she’s knocked up, remember?).
I might have been pseudo-sympathetic if at that exact moment I hadn’t realized how much my boobs have really changed. I look like I have nursed two children and haven’t supported the girls with a bra in 10 years.
There is no problem with saggy boobs, especially if you’ve had the honor of nursing two babies. However, I am 25, never been pregnant but plan on it in the future and have at least 40 more pounds to lose. What the hell are these things gonna look like then?
I have always been against a boob job for myself. I have been one of those embrace my own natural beauty kind of girls. Well now, I might just have to rethink my hard stance on plastic surgery. It’s surprising to me how much the change is bothering me. Good thing I have a loving husband, who after hearing my saggy boob tirade simply said…“I will still play with ‘em“. Thanks, D.
After lifting my boobs from my armpits into my bra, I looked online for some information on weight-loss-induced sag. I came across a site with tons of pictures sent in by average women, like you and me, of their breasts. No faces, no porno poses, just normal, chest only pictures. It’s kind of an odd site, but its intentions are to show women that boobs come in every shape, size and direction. I must admit, I feel better about myself (albeit a little voyeuristic) after viewing dozens of those pictures. So while I fight gravity as I work towards the rest of my weight loss, I might just take my husband up on his offer.