My Bra

I have big boobs. They aren't gargantuan, they aren't tiny. My boobs are just big enough to drive my back crazy but not big enough to have medical intervention alleviate the pain. This is something I loath and love about myself.

I like that I have boobs, I like that they produce milk and I can breast feed my daughter. I like that they were never part of my self esteem deflation. Thinking about it now though, I'm pretty sure no matter what I looked like I would have hated myself as a teenager, don't we all? They were oogled, they were admired and they were misused on multiple occasions (Cheap birthday gifts, so sue me!).

As you can tell I have nothing against my boobs, (although plenty of men have wished they were!) but I do have a deep hatred of bras. Never have I gone bra shopping without it ending in tears. I don't care who you are, bra shopping is depressing. If you've got smaller then average boobs you try to find a bra that pushes what you got up and at em! If you've got different sized boobs you try to find a bra that hides this fact. If you have big boobs you try to find a bra that will support them enough so they aren't neighbors with that asshole of a belly button.

Of course if you are the person who goes bra shopping and find that every different style suits you and the biggest difficulty you have is deciding on the color, fuck you. You are either clueless and don't care or a figment of a man's imagination who wouldn't need a bra anyway cause your boobs would sit up on their own. I assume men imagine that women go bra shopping to 'help' each other tighten the hard to reach straps. This interaction turns into a hot afternoon of fun and experimentation. What really happens when women go shopping for bras together is moral support or having tissue on hand. Seriously, not sexy.

In short, my back is killing me and it's because my nursing bras support nothing. I don't know why they even market them as bras. They are there to keep the nursing pads in place, as the sagging is embarrassing enough, we would rather not leak all over the place as we are shopping for groceries.

The worst part about this whole thing!? I don't really have anyone to go bra shopping with. It's not really something my friends and I do. I have my husband. Who is the sweetest man alive and will let me spend far too much money on a bra while handing me tissues over the changing room door. He will then proceed to tell me I look beautiful, which gives me momentary relief... until I look in the mirror and he hands me another tissue.