The breast an integral organ for the female species.
They are an important cosmetic or beauty asset we are blessed with. Boobs in a great bra do make a girl feel good for sure.
Nobody likes when their breasts just ain’t looking too right. Even if it means changing my entire apparel, I’m not leaving home if my boobs ain’t looking right.
I hope you share the sentiments too. ***smiles***
The Period of Self-Hate
The next important function of the breast is to announce that an adolescent girl’s puberty has finally arrived!
This can be either an exciting time for that young tot or a period of anxiety and fear.
I did say I love when my boobs look right, but I must be honest. I intensely feared the day when I finally noticed that those nipples on my chest were not as simple as they used to be.
I went through a period of real self-hate.
I would cry every day and curse that my body was changing. This is while my mom and sisters when grinning and beaming with excitement.
I just hated it. I hated putting on my clothes and seeing them just standing there; being all obvious. Sigh.
I had a rough time dealing with my body as a child (**laughs and shakes my head at how insecure I used to be**).
Why did it happen?
I hated my breasts mainly because in my entire school and community, I was the only 9-year-old kid with breast that could actually fit in a bra.
Between September and December, my breasts grew rapidly!!!
I mean I went from AA-cup to a B cup in no time.
Whenever I was in public, people would just be staring at my chest.
All the family friends would be so peachy about it and talk as if I wasn’t in the room. They were all saying things like “You are growing up so fast, you will be having your period very soon”.
I would just churn at their comments. But they were right. The following summer, I did get my first menses. It was in July (summer vacation) just before I turned 10 years old.
Torment at School
The kids at my school were another headache. Good Lord!
I went to a school with over 2500 children – it was a shift school, so I had to pass through at least half of them at any one point.
They made me feel like an alien.
When I came off the bus, it was as if my breasts were waltzing down a runway.
Everyone would be whispering and turning to watch me walk down the driveway and corridors into school.
For those jaws didn’t fall from the shocked to see such large boobs in a girl their age, they would hurl some nasty comments.
The boys would be so sexist (i.e. stupid) and make some inappropriate comments about what they would do to my breasts. I tell you, I hated it.
I went through 40 teaching weeks of humiliation and anxiety every single day.
I was distressed.
I hated going to school!
Some girls would even say some really nasty things about me and what I was doing to make my breasts grow so large.
Some said I was an alien and came from Mars and Jupiter. Some said my breasts were growing because of black magic and voodoo.
Some said my breasts were a curse. Some said I was rubbing creams on my breasts to make them grow large because no one could have breast so big naturally.
Back then I was really hurt about it. But now that I’m older, I realize we were just young and dumb **palm to face**.
The Bubbler and Netball
Then I decided to join the netball team. That was another headache. I was nicknamed ‘Bubbler’.
Apparently, when I ran and jumped, my boobs would follow in the same direction. If I went up they did and when I came down they did.
One day, a girl found it so funny that she couldn’t play. She stopped in the middle of the court during a play and started laughing all because my breasts were “bubbling”. Then she started to roll on the floor surface of the court because she thought it was beyond funny.
Her laughter must have been infectious because all the other players started laughing, even the coach.
I was so humiliated.
I broke down in tears.
I had a crying tantrum.
I cried so much that I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t talk.
I never experienced anything so humiliating before!
I had to walk off the court that day. I couldn’t even change into my uniform because I was so breathless from crying. I just threw the tunic over. I grabbed my bag and I walked and cried all the way home. (Well almost home).
One of my mother’s friends saw me walking and made the bus stop to pick me up. She eventually took me home. I was crying so hard that she didn’t understand a word I was saying as I tried to explain.
I literally cried myself into a headache.
I hated my breasts for being the source of my embarrassment.
I considered my breasts a curse, and a source of shame every day.
I H-A-T-E-D them!!!!
The Depth of Self-Hate
My mom didn’t take too well to my crying. For her, crying is a sign of weakness.
She told me that I just got to make up my mind to be strong because “the boobs aren’t going anywhere!”
She tried her best to explain that the other kids were just not used to it and that they were just jealous and being foolish. She explained that I just needed to hold my head up high and let it run off like water on a duck’s back.
She told me that when they started laughing, I should start laughing too and join the fun because sooner or later, they will get bored of the same “joker breasts’’ and find something else to laugh about.
This was the hardest thing to do.
Honestly, I told my mom that I was never going back to school again and that I would never play netball again.
Well, I did get to stay home for 2 day which went into my weekend. Plus, I stopped going to netball practice for about 2 weeks.
I was actually depressed during this time. I would not talk to anyone… not even my closest friends.
I would break down in class and start crying. My teachers would send me to the guidance counselor many days.
Girl, it was a really rough moment. I still can’t believe that I hated my breasts so much.
I used to think of ways how to get rid of them.
I used to read about breast reduction. I used to ask the doctors to give me something to make them stop growing.
I used to do some really dark stuff to those boobs at the time.
Things I am too ashamed to write about now. But believe me, I suffered from real body shame.
Overcoming the Self-Hate
It took me 3 years from the 4th grade to the 7th grade to finally make the choice to accept my boobs as part of my development and embrace with welcome arms.
Thing took a turn when I went to high school. I could finally breathe a sigh of relief. It was like a breath of fresh air in a very long time.
At high school, I was not as advanced in development and alienated as those kids at primary school made me feel.
The girls at my high school were much bigger than me. And I am not joking.
They were all taller and chubbier so naturally, their breasts were wayyyy bigger than my little ‘’breast mounds’’.
When I was wearing B and C cups, girls were there wearing D and DD cups!
I feel like entering high school saved my life!
I was so relieved.
Anxiety had to take a back seat.
I finally could walk into the school’s courtyard and don’t feel like my breasts were announcing my arrival.
High school made my body feel at ease.
Loving my breast
If you read my story about How to Treat Painful Periods, you will know about my story when I started seeing my period. My breast development started about 6 months before the period came.
At primary school, I was teased day and night for having boobs and a period. I was teased for having normal sexual development.
Mine started at 9 years old while all the others had to wait until they were 13 to 14 years to start the journey.
Man, kids can be kids. Just misinformed and cruel in words sometimes.
I wish I knew back then what I know now. It’s just so sad that I failed to realize that I was normal all along.
I wish I knew that they were deflecting their anxiety and fears about sexual development on me and that I was not the ‘’abnormal’’ child.
All along, I wish I knew that they were the ones that would be missing out on “growing up”. Probably it would have made me feel so much better.
So, now you know why I hated my breasts and I came to love them.
Thank goodness I am over that because there is nothing as exciting as having boobs as cute as mine!
I love ‘em!
xoxo
