Doubly good

"I don't believe that you have to be a certain size or certain shape to feel sexy. My butt is just the price I have to pay for having such great tits!"
--Kellyanne Russell, contestant on Project Runway, Australia

Let me preface this by saying that I absolutely LOVE my little sister. There is not a thing in the world I wouldn't do for her. She is a fantastic person - a giver, a lover, and someone who sees the absolute best in anyone and everyone. She would NEVER do something to deliberately hurt anyone. Simply put, she's one of my favorite people in the world.

Two years ago, my younger sister had to get a troublesome lump/mass removed from her breast. It was a horrible experience for her - it was painful and was handled by doctors that were inept at best.

Less than a week after the surgery, we all met at my father's for Christmas. During this break, she was still recovering from the surgery. And it became apparent that she was very worried that the scar (and the fact that there was a divot/chunk missing on her breast) would be such a turn-off to all the guys that she was sure to date for the rest of her life. And she cried and cried and cried about it. I think it's only normal to have concerns about any scarring...but I think that for women, scars or things that look like dents in your breasts would be especially emotional.

So, to make her feel better, I made jokes (when don't I?). I said that it could be worse...she could have droopy boobs, just like me if she wanted. I'd gladly trade her for her perky boobs any day. Years of yo-yo dieting had made mine less than stellar in my eyes.

She didn't believe me.

I showed her.

And she laughed. She laughed because she had just spent a long time crying. She laughed because I prefaced it in a funny way. She laughed to relieve the stress and she laughed with relief that not everyone's boobs are perfect.

But when she laughed, inside I cried.

Now, up until that point, I've always been pretty proud of my breasts. They were always bigger than other girls' and I always felt that they made me more womanly and more attractive. Incidentally, I've never dated anyone that was completely ga-ga over them. It seems that the people that I've dated weren't boob guys at all. But alas, I digress. I guess that while I've been overweight most of my adult life, I've felt pride that at least I was proportionate.

In fact, a few years ago, I was on a type of birth control that caused my boobs to grow. That (and the weight gain) caused me to be wear a 40DDD. And in case you're a guy and stumbled on my blog, I'll just tell you, that means they're big.

Really big.

Freakishly big.

But by then, my ass had grown to Biblical proportions, so I figured everything was still balanced. And yet, when my younger fantastic sister laughed at my slightly deflated but yet somehow still gigantic boobs (a unique combination, to be sure), I started feeling even more like a freak.

From that day on, I felt more comfortable dating guys who had already been married to someone who had had kids. I mean, instead of seeing "fun bags," they were used to seeing "they used to be really fun bags but now they're just sort of fun bags" right?

These days, I'm back down to a 36DD...a size that I feel pretty darn comfortable in. And while they don't look like billiard balls at the bottom of tube socks yet, they're not that far off either.

Maybe now you can understand why going to Victoria's Secret last weekend was so much fun. This past week, I've enjoyed my boobs being perky, even if only in a lacy push-up bra. I've enjoyed them looking pretty - and I've started having more confidence in them again. It was just the sort of pick-me-up that I needed.

I've fallen back in love with my boobs - even though they're no longer pin-up material.

Because the truth is, I'm still proportionate. I'm curvy. I'm voluptuous. And with the right bra, I'm Jessica Rabbit-ish. And as BFD's post proved, there are people that wish that they could have boobs like mine even as I'm wishing that I could wear a sundress without looking like a cow that needs to be milked.

And for those interested, this past weekend I mentioned how I felt about my breasts to my boyfriend. His answer? "I love your boobs!"

It's yet another thing that we agree on these days.


P.S. Thanks to Big Fat Deal's blog that introduced me to Kellyanne's quote!