Unpleasantly Big Boobs

Z had a work event that he wanted me and the boy to attend this weekend. It probably isn’t surprising to hear that I dread social events. I mean, I’ve got an anxiety disorder and I’m agoraphobic. There isn’t much I hate more than large groups of people getting together. Except for dressing up. I really really hate dressing up. I have a uniform that I happily wear every single day and there has been little variation since high school. And dressing up means trying to look nice. Being I’m not a fan of the way I look this is very awkward for me.

So I stressed out for a few days over what to wear. And the night before the event I put on a pre pregnancy dress that should have fit just fine. But I could barely zip it up. Why? Am I carrying around a lot of baby weight? Strangely and fortunately no. It was my enormous boobs. The innocent sundress became pornographic with the addition of my horrifying chest.

I’m guessing that some of you are thinking I’m doing the fake complaining thing, because who doesn’t want their boobs getting bigger? Well, before I got pregnant mine were on the large side. During the pregnancy they got bigger and when I stared nursing they got even bigger. There is a fine line between “Wow! You’ve got big boobs!” and “That’s just gross” I passed the gross mark somewhere in my second trimester.

For the event I ended up wearing a t-shirt (full boob coverage!) and a skirt. What with the tattoos and all I was definitely on the scruffy side. Z’s students are almost all sunshiny lovely young ladies (I believe there is one gentleman). The event was a graduation brunch for them and their families. My paranoia was probably on overdrive, but I felt like a walking cautionary tale to the clean cut crowd. And the snob in me wanted to shout “But I’m a Sarah Lawrence girl!” Thankfully I refrained and let’s face it all anyone was looking at was T. I can’t blame them. He is very cute.

Unpleasantly big boobs and chronic insecurity. A pretty unfortunate combo.

But. Before T I would have been trying on outfits all week rather than waiting till the night before. Before T I would have been sure people were staring at me with disgust the whole time. Before T there was a 75% chance I would have just bailed on the event. One of the biggest gifts T has given me is to take me out of my all consuming self absorption just a little bit. I’ve got a long way to go, but hey I’ve got to start somewhere.

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