Bottoming Out

There are so many types of bodies in the world.

This brilliant statement...and MORE...coming up in this post.

I feel I was born with a missing twin. Her name is Boobs. Boobs McGoobs. And I don't know where she went. Maybe she just dissolved into my hips. Perhaps found refuge in my saddle bags. Whatever happened, she has no intention of coming back to me.

Before my face rounded, if you and I had met and I was sitting at a table, you might have thought I was a stick like girl. Until the full moon a-rised from the chair.

SURPRISE BUTTOCK ATTACK!

Because my top does not match my bottom.

I am pretty much the definition of flat chested. Why the hell am I flat chested? Besides because of Aunt Carol, Aunt Connie, and Aunt Ginny, I mean? With hips like these I feel like I was robbed the McGoobs to balance me out. I miss them, my phantom mammaries.....

As a woman I am constantly challenging myself in the mirror. If I did more squats. If I stopped eating carbs. If I grew a pair of boobs....I would look so much better. More balanced. More womanly. More complete.

This is not something I am going to necessarily get over, but I do have some days that I am not too bothered.

Like when it is hot, I can go bra-less and let their goatlikeness hang; free of under girth sweat.

I don't have the pull between buttons at the top of my cardigan. (just at the bottom, of course). I can wear a padded bra and fill things out when needed, or no bra when something has thin straps.

They got the job done- fed the babies.

I don't have the back pain some big bressessessed women have.

Also, I don't have to answer the imaging tech's question if I have had implants at my mammogram; I just flash her. It is the little things...

(Don't I look like Norma Jean here?)

I have loved Marilyn Monroe for as long as I can remember. Petite mom has bought me movies Marilyn was in, a watch made from her commemorative stamp, Marilyn stationary, calendars with her images, and a Marilyn Barbie I still have. I like her look best as Norma Jean, though. Natural hair color and perfect hourglass shape. I wanted her shape growing up more than I wanted to be "thin". Perfect hourlglass. But, I remain looking like, um, this round of Boggle is over, and all the sand fell to the bottom of the hourglass. Ah well. Bootylicious it is.