I didn’t have any until I was fifteen, just buds, as my granddaughter calls them, and even then they barely bloomed in my bathing suit. I was embarrassed to be the only one to be seen in an undershirt in the high school girls locker room. My mother would say, ‘You don’t need a bra;’ Dah…but my broken heart did.
Finally, I resorted to sneaking into Rothchild’s lingerie department after school one day to buy a bra that I would stuff kleenex into…extending this ritual even into college. Weren’t padded bras available in the 60s?
Still, I married as a virgin at 22, to a man who planted 2 beautiful daughters in me. After six years of marriage he came out as gay…I wonder if me looking less feminine with tiny boobs made me more attractive to him; we had what I would call a ‘normal’ sex life.
And, nursing my daughters was one of the most exquisite loving experiences of my life, and not because my breasts bloomed into 34B or larger due to breast milk.
My second husband boosted my ego by saying he likes smaller breasts, and as an avid runner I finally had an advantage over the voluptuous women who drew men’s eyes to their chests. Presently, sometimes, I wear a bustier to lift my 34B breast implants when I dress up for argentine tango, or other dances, although most days I am braless.
My teenaged-daughters asked me why I would have surgery to augment my breasts to which I reply that I do accept my body, while being an evolving psychotherapist. Yet, I want to look good, especially ‘feminine’ in my bathing suit. That was 1991, 24 years ago, and I have no problems with my implants, and in fact enjoy delectable orgasms by touching my nipples. I made sure my pleasure continued to be twofold!
In 2013, my best friend Gayle, underwent a double mastectomy due to cancer. Before undergoing reconstruction with implants, she asks to touch mine to see how ‘real’ they feel. I can’t help but be a little bit proud of both of us; how deeply we touch each other with tears and laughter erasing past shame.
I’d like to think that I’ve grown and healed enough to accept my body as it was before the augmentation, like my oldest daughter has. She wears her small breasts proudly as she dances classy burlesque with her five-women Whiskey Tango Sideshow, where she performs for audiences periodically when she is off duty as an RN OR nurse. I am a nurse too as was my religious mother who would not allow me to dance, (let alone show my breasts.)