observations

I used to take a hormonal birth control pill of the kind commonly prescribed to women and adolescent girls. I started at sixteen as a way to regulate my erratic, unpredictable cycle and alleviate the horrible cramps and heavy flow that kept me home from school a few days every month. For the most part it did its job, even though remembering to take a pill at the same time every day sometimes just requires a lot more mental sharpness than I can muster.

One really common side-effect of birth control (other than the menstrual ones) is slight weight gain and most women who experience this symptom experience it the same way: their boobs grow bigger. And mine got pretty freaking big. I naturally have a relatively small waist and wide hips, so when I was at my biggest--a freaking D-cup, which for someone my size is pretty huge--I was a real genuine hourglass. I loved my boobs. What I didn't love was not being able to find really cute bras and I was, despite being very busty, not comfortable wearing an underwire. (Since then I've switched to underwire bras.) Bras for smaller girls and women are way cute but unless you go to an expensive specialty store like Victoria's Secret or Frederick's of Hollywood, you're not likely to find larger sizes in cute patterns--all the sizes from a D on up tend to be made more like industrial tarp, all support and no aesthetic. I guess the rationale is, hey, if you got epic tits then you don't need cute undies to attract sexual partners.

So, yeah, I had pretty big boobs for a good long while.

Since I lived in another state, my relatives didn't see me very often and when they did there was no guarantee it was going to be at a time of the year when I'd wear fitted clothes, and I'm not close with any of them so boob size is not something we really discuss. So not many knew I had the rack I did. And because my family members are not exactly the kind of people known for sensitive, tasteful remarks on anything, I tended to startle crude surprise from them when they did notice.

One day several years ago my mom's middle sister was visiting. I came downstairs one morning wearing a t-shirt and my aunt took one look at me and came right out with, "Geezis christ, girl, where'd you grow those boobs?"

Thanks for that, Aunt C. You always know the right things to say, as evidenced by the fact that you are known within the family for consuming wine at gatherings and telling everyone to shut the fuck up.

Sometimes I think I should write a book and then I realize nobody would publish it on the grounds of being too fanciful and unbelievable.