Purple Hearts for Hangnails

DD living in a B world.

The average bra size in America is a B cup. So, where does that leave a DD girl like me? Well, I’ll tell you: miserable!

I know, I know. I should be lucky and praise the genetic gods for these surgery free gifts from heaven. Let me assure you, this sentiment is ill-informed.

Having large huge breasts is a pain in the neck (and back!) Sure, occasionally I’ll be in my undies and think to myself, ‘Girl, you got it going on!’ But those rare moments of self confidence and appreciation are outweighed with crushing self awareness, self loathing, general uncomfortableness, and inconvenience.

First off, if you are a lady who is bigger up top, you’ll know it’s hard to find clothes that fit you well or tastefully. It’s either too small, too big, or too revealing. Rarely is there the Goldilocks moment when you try something on and it fulfills all your dreams and expectations. Typically this number happens:

Obviously, you can’t really walk around presenting yourself that way. 

Also, the dreaded bra shopping. Sure, Target carries DD’s, but not 32 DD. And Victoria’s Secret only goes up to D. A STORE THAT IS KNOWN FOR LINGERIE DOESN’T EVEN HAVE DD. It’s humiliating, extremely inconvenient, and costly. I have to go to specialty boutiques to stand a chance at finding my size, and even if I do, they aren’t the cutest bras in the world. They’re comically huge and boringly styled, in most cases.

Then, there is the unwanted attention from male and female alike. Men will think it’s okay to make suggestive comments and women will say very loudly, “YOUR BOOBS ARE SO BIG,” like you weren’t already in the know. This isn’t the case with everyone, but it happens and that’s the problem. Generally, I think it’s impolite to point out anyone’s physical features (but I have been guilty!) because you never can be fully aware of people’s insecurities.

I guess my point is, if you’re ever sitting around thinking to yourself “why don’t I have DD’s” remember: it’s AWFUL.

In Retrospect, I Might Call “Bull Shit” on This One

Things I Tell Myself to “Get Over It”

In rank of importance/use:

1. It would have ended horribly at some point, and at least this way we can still talk (though this has its own way of being horrible).

2. Was self-compromised throughout (that’s on me).

3. Not in love (still learning how to do that).

If it ever mattered, it still does. 2months, 6months, 9months doesn’t matter.

Or: If it never mattered, it still doesn’t. Can’t trust myself with feelings like these.