Then something happened that made her so much different from me: she grew breasts. And these weren’t just any breasts–we’re talking big boobs, here. I was pretty little when she started wearing bras, but seem to think she skipped the training bra stage entirely and went to super industrial sized mondo-support monster bras. The cups were big enough that at six and seven years old, I’d tease her by putting them on my head as hats.
Yes, I know. I was a very mature second grader. Whatever.
Anyway, I figured that within just a couple years, my time would come. I’d have a super curvy Jessica Rabbit, Marilyn Monroe, knock-you-out-with-my-knockers kind of figure, too. So I waited. And waited. And waited for my big boobs.
My super-sized rack never arrived. Instead of a diva-esque D-cup, I peaked at an A/B. And holy moly was I annoyed. The strapless dresses my sister had worn that I hoped I’d grow into never fit. In fact, no strapless dresses ever did, unless they were made of spandex, which just showed off how flat I was! Where people (including cool guys) thought my sister was older than she really was because of her big boobs, people (including cool guys) thought I was a baby because of my tiny ones!I started teasing my sister relentlessly: telling her her breasts were meant to be like tea cups, not tea kettles. And one day when her bikini top came untied and actually washed away in the ocean during a beach trip? I couldn’t stop laughing and making jokes about how “those things” just couldn’t stay contained.
Now that I’m older, I realize that having big boobs didn’t make my sister’s problems any smaller than mine. While I was frustrated and sick of being treated like a baby, she was getting all kinds of unwanted sexual attention from creepsters–including a mall Santa at Christmastime–when she was still just a kid! And where I can’t wear strapless dresses or certain halter-style tops, she can’t wear most button-up tops or ever get away without wearing a bra.
And as for those “cool guys” who used to give her attention because of her figure and ignore me because of my tiny top? I think my sister and I have both realized that the coolest guys of all are looking for way more than perfect breasts in a girlfriend (although a certain boyfriend of mine wanted me to say that he thinks mine are great!).
I wish I hadn’t been so mean to my sister about her body–and that I hadn’t been so mean to myself about mine, either. Body snarking is way too freaking common among girls–in fact, I’d be willing to bet that most girls spend more time thinking about and talking about other girls breasts than dudes do–and it’s really just stupid.
You know why? Here’s the secret: It’s your confidence, not your cup size that makes you beautiful. I just wish I’d known that a long, long time ago.
Are you jealous of other girls or siblings with big boobs? Do you have big boobs yourself and hate them? Are you proud of your boobs just the way they are? Tell me everything in the comments!