What I’m really going to miss is boobs

Well, now that I’ve got your attention....

But really I do want to talk about this, because, well, its happening. And I apologize to my mother in advance for this post because I know exactly what she’s going to say.

Growing up I never had boobs. I was a gymnast, I didn’t have much of anything other than calf muscles and sweet triceps and amazing lats. Those were my accomplishments. But I bet you never heard the boys snicker “yo did you see the tri’s on that chick? So hot.” So there was much to be desired in the chestal area for me.

While all the 12 and 13 year old girls were out buying bras, I was cutting my leotards to look like bras and stuffing them with shoulder pads. Yes, shoulder pads. Did you know that they are the perfect shape for pseudo-boobs, are easy to adjust, and look waaaay better than handfuls of tissues? Its a damn good thing I’m clever.

It wasn’t until college when I got substantial boobs. The freshman fifteen finally caught up to me my junior year. I blew up, everywhere. Boobs, butt, muffin top, all of it. But I remember waking up one morning in my apartment on Pembroke Ave my junior year, looked down at myself and said “holy crap when did these get here?” It was a day of both joy and sadness. Joy because I finally FINALLY had boobs. And sadness because I only got the boobs because there was no other place for my body to put the fat. You can’t win ‘em all, I guess.

Years later, here we are. And one month into this, my boobs are slowly departing. And while I’m somewhat saddened by this, because really, boobs are awesome, I’m also somewhat happy. I was never meant to have them. I never knew how to properly support them. And I was getting sick of the rate of growth vs. the rate of me wanting to show them off. Because lets be honest, boobs aren’t that cool when your muffin top is competing for prominence. So even though they have been there, I haven’t really been able to do anything with them other than cover them up along with the rest of my body.

And now everything is shrinking. Boobs, butt, muffin top, all of it. And while I’m saddened to say good-bye to the twins, I think I’ll be okay without them.

So long as muffin top packs up and goes with them.