Remember at the beginning of the series, when we were supposed to make a list of our good qualities? Did you struggle with that more than you care to admit? I did.
It took me a good 2 hours to finish my list. Because while I’m pretty okay with my personality, I spend a fair amount of time each day picking apart my appearance. If you asked, I could rattle off at least 10 things I don’t like about myself in under a minute. I could probably bump that number up to 15 if I’m having a particularly bad day. But if you asked me what’s the part of me that I dislike the most?
I wouldn’t even have to think about my answer. It’s automatic.
It’s my boobs.
I hate my boobs. First of all, they’re huge. And since I’m short, it makes them look even bigger. In pictures, they practically engulf my entire body. And in real life, they basically walk into a room before I do. They are their own entity. It’s mortifying.
Second of all, they’re expensive. Everything related to carry these bitches around costs more than they were normal. Let’s not even discuss the extra cost related to having to buy dresses 2 (or 3, if we’re talking formal dresses) sizes too big to accommodate them and then having to pay to have said dress altered to fit the rest of me.
Third, the questions. The incessant questions. So, let’s put a few things to rest. Yes, they’re real. No, I will not be getting a reduction because I am terrified of dying under anesthesia. No, they do not hurt or give me back problems. Yes, I would need to wear 75 sports bras at once if I ever choose to run on purpose. No, you may not touch them. And please, don’t be jealous of them. Ever.
Finally, clothes shopping is a nightmare. Nothing fits right. I refuse to wear anything low-cut because drawing more attention to them is not something I care to do and there are way too many low-cut options. Button down shirts, my preferred type of shirt, are sized horribly. T-shirts, like dresses, need to be bought at least one size too big to accommodate the girls, making me look like I’m wearing a tent.
I could go on.
But that’s probably more than you ever needed to know about my boobs so I’ll spare you and stop there.
It’s probably pretty obvious by now that I hate my chest, and for good reasons. However, since I’m taking this challenge with you, for today (and at least the rest of the month), I will embrace what they are instead of focusing on how much I hate them. I will enjoy the fact that when in a desperate situation, I have somewhere to put my phone (or beer or lip balm). I will own the other unintended benefits of having big boobs. I will accept that people pay money for what I have. I will think about the fact that, despite their enormity, they are healthy and I have no adverse side effects from them (save for major embarrassment and shame).
I’m still trying to figure out how this is going to make me happier. I guess it’s taking a step towards self-acceptance and lessening my self-hatred, which will make me happier in the long run. And that’s important.
For today’s task, I want you to do the same. I want you to think about the one part of you that you dislike the most and decide to embrace it. Think about why you dislike that part of you then flip it around and consider all the positives to that particular part of you. Think about how much easier it would be if you didn’t waste energy hating it (although, if you have a problem like me, it’s okay to still be annoyed by the extra expenses. That’s just unfair). Think about how much happier you’d be if you worked on accepting and embracing it.
Think about the power that comes with owning your perceived flaws and not allowing anyone to use them against you.
That’s what I’ll be focusing on.
P.S. BuzzFeed had a dead on balls accurate post on what it’s like living with big boobs. You should read it because it’s also hilarious.
If they’re as big as you say, they probably are causing you back problems. You just don’t realize it because they’re a part of you. I know I have a bad back, and some of it is probably that. As someone who has almost always been overweight, I’ve always felt a little blessed — when I’m not trying to button up a shirt, anyway — for them because they help draw attention away from my tummy. But to each her own.
My issues with appearance will pretty much always be my weight. I’m down to about 25 pounds over my ideal (about 30 pounds less than it used to be), but still… Then, I’m starting to get some minor wrinkles, so that’s annoying.
But I think the biggest thing I had to embrace that I hated was my fatigue. I got it from a neurological illness when I was only 19, and I spent the better part of a decade fighting against it. I’ve gotten to a point where I (usually) respect my limits. But as a Type-A personality, it used to kill me. Still does, just less. My depression worsens my ability to function, though it’s much better these days thanks to the right medication levels. But it’s just so frustrating to feel powerless so often/randomly.
But I’ve learned to accept it. I’ll never really embrace it, but accepting it was pretty darn hard too. That said, my husband still has to remind me to be nicer to myself. A lot. It’s a process.