I find it incredibly infuriating that my whole life I had small, extremely manageable breasts, and then I turned 38 and grew cumbersome tits.
I like being flat-chested. Anything more than my handful is a burden, not to mention a complete waste of sweater meat.
The best part of living in the bell jar for a year was that I weighed so little that I was stacked like a scrawny twelve year-old boy.
But these things... they're just so... OUT there. Occupying space, being prominent, succumbing to gravitational forces in new and hideous ways, and generally forcing me to wear a bra with structure and substance.
Nothing that zips up the back will close above mid-back.
When I sleep, drive, or use the computer with the cat sitting next to me on the chair, I have to hike the right one up, and shift it out of the way.
It isn't so bad in summer, because I wear a lot of loose and flowy things that aren't affected by boobage.
But this winter, I am discovering that all of my cooler weather shirts are all 2 inches shorter, which is unacceptable. Suddenly everything is a belly-shirt, which isn't rocking when you're cold and/or sporting a muffin top.
My ribcage and general torso (not counting the mammaries) are small-framed, but everything that fits me won't fasten over the boobs. Which forces me to go up a size or two, and ends up making me look like I live on a farm and am about to go out and slop the hogs in button down tops, or a slovenly hoodlum in tees and knit shirts.
Seriously, I'm considering binding my chest. I miss my teen sports bras, and I cannot abide bending over to pick something up and having my shirt ride up and flash my panties or ass crack at peeps.
I like being flat-chested. Anything more than my handful is a burden, not to mention a complete waste of sweater meat.
The best part of living in the bell jar for a year was that I weighed so little that I was stacked like a scrawny twelve year-old boy.
But these things... they're just so... OUT there. Occupying space, being prominent, succumbing to gravitational forces in new and hideous ways, and generally forcing me to wear a bra with structure and substance.
Nothing that zips up the back will close above mid-back.
When I sleep, drive, or use the computer with the cat sitting next to me on the chair, I have to hike the right one up, and shift it out of the way.
It isn't so bad in summer, because I wear a lot of loose and flowy things that aren't affected by boobage.
But this winter, I am discovering that all of my cooler weather shirts are all 2 inches shorter, which is unacceptable. Suddenly everything is a belly-shirt, which isn't rocking when you're cold and/or sporting a muffin top.
My ribcage and general torso (not counting the mammaries) are small-framed, but everything that fits me won't fasten over the boobs. Which forces me to go up a size or two, and ends up making me look like I live on a farm and am about to go out and slop the hogs in button down tops, or a slovenly hoodlum in tees and knit shirts.
Seriously, I'm considering binding my chest. I miss my teen sports bras, and I cannot abide bending over to pick something up and having my shirt ride up and flash my panties or ass crack at peeps.
