Warning- you are entering the Zone of Too Much Information
One day, when I was 12 years old, I awoke to find a set of knockers upon my chest.
Now, for most girls, this would be a fabulous day.
For me, alas, it was not.
You see, I was a tomboy of sorts. I liked sports. I liked tap dancing. These are both things that become more difficult with a big set of boobs.
I remember sitting in the back of the bus with my 2 closest friends since first grade, Ed and David, when they both said, in unison, "Wow, you've got boobs." We had hit a speed bump.
Later that year, in 7th grade, was the first time my back went out. I was doing a lay up in gym class. Ouch. I became a more cautious and much less useful basketball player. Welcome to the B team. Sigh.
Tap dancing was the next to go.
I hid them well throughout most of high school. Even into college. Occasionally, a few people would notice. They usually were PWP's- People With Penises. Once they noticed, it became difficult for them not to stare. Sigh.
My boyfriend at my lovely Ivy League alma mater even commented "Wow, you could be a stripper!" Thanks.
Don't get me wrong, I have used them to my advantage from time to time. When I worked in a bar, I used the $10 button rule- for every button lower on my blouse, I ended the night with an extra $10-$20. Also, leaning in, after I served a drink usually resulted in more than "Keep the change, kid." They paid for college in some ways we could say.
But the back issues continued. I did yoga. I ate macrobiotic to reduce inflammation. I stretched religiously every morning.
When I entered the professional world, I always dressed somewhat dowdy. It just made life easier. One time I wore a turtleneck while I taught a class. Under a jacket. I got hot. I took off my jacket. Bad idea. Hellooooo... I'm up here!!! My female boss very politely commented that I wear something else the next time I taught. You know, something less sexy THAN A TURTLENECK.
Then I had a car accident. My back was hurt, but the orthopedist pointed out, at age 26, that most of the damage was pre-existing from my "large chest. Not that I don't appreciate them." He actually said that in a much less creepy way than that sounds...
I worked out. I went to physical therapy. I dealt with it.
Into my 30's I had kids. At no point during my pregnancy was my stomach ever bigger than my boobs. No cute baby bump for me. And forget finding cute maternity clothes. I went with the "Whatever I Can Get Over My Chest" clothing line. Nursing was a bit of a challenge, but the girls served their purpose. They were a little sadder and lower when I was done. The good news, the shifting put pressure on a completely different part of my back- great! It was also convenient when I had my daughter- I didn't need a Boppy Pillow! My friend used to joke that she had 34 Longs. I completely understand that now.
And my back kept hurting. And exercise became more difficult, not only to fit in, but to actually do.
I went to a chiropractor. It worked pretty well. For awhile. I am an advocate.
Then my disc slipped.
And my shoulders have dents that I can probably rest pencils in from bra straps working diligently over the past 30 years. They have been trying to do the impossible.
I tried to get insurance to cover the obvious need for a reduction, but they won't. I have no "history" of back pain. Huh?
I'm too fat. I like to say I grew into my boobs. They are the same size they were 50 pounds ago.
But yes, you see, if I exercise my back goes out. For 10 years every time I have started an exercise program-- even supvervised- my back eventually goes.
Well, I should lose weight.
So I did.
But not enough.
So I lost some more.
Still not enough.
So I asked- "How much is enough?"
Well, there's not set figure.
So I decided, oddly on the day of Elizabeth Taylor's death- another well endowed woman with back pain- that this is it. The girls have served their purpose and now it's time for a little medical intervention, insurance be damned.
Oddly, I feel guilty. I know enough women that have survived breast cancer that I feel guilty about having mine reduced.
I also feel guilty spending money that could be used for something more important on something that my mid-western mind is having a hard time as seeing as important.
But I just can't take it anymore.
It is not my fault that I have big boobs any more than it's my fault that my nose is not particularly cute. Oddly, I could easily have that fixed due to a deviated septum. The amount of money that will be spent on "fixing" my back is probably substantially more than the cost of a reduction. If I had had implants, they would pay to have those removed. I guess my natural "implants" (aka boobs) don't count.
But I guess that's how insurance companies roll these days.
And there is the fact that I would like to be able to buy a shirt in a normal size- not three sizes bigger so I can button it. I would like to be able to run. I would like to be able to workout for more than a month. Heck, I would like to be able to sit upright for crying out loud.
Everyone I know who has had a reduction has said it's the best thing since seamless underwire. I'm in.
Please note, I'm not anti-boob by any means. I support boobs. I just can't support mine any more.
You may now return to your regular programming. And please note, that if I catch you staring at my chest the next time I see you, I will slap you silly. Thank you.