10 Reasons I Love My Small Boobs Even More As I Get Older

 By Jenn Schleich / Published by Bustle.com

Growing older has been the best thing that could ever happen to my boobs. They’re finally getting the accolades they’ve long deserved. If I had a dollar for every time I experienced a negative emotion about my small chest during my teenage years, I’d be dancing to the Greenback Boogie while dolla dolla bills fluttered around my head. Youth is a turbulent time and a set of small breasts are a highly visible indicator that you are (or at least you will definitely feel that you are) in the minority — it’s not a winning combination to inspire self-confidence.

Teenagers are notoriously self-conscious, self-deprecating and self-obsessed. I mean, let’s not try to deny it—we all were. It’s a generalization to say so, but I was a teenager not so very long ago that I can’t speak fairly authoritatively on the subject. When we’re young, we’re all about ourselves, and are notoriously hard on ourselves while we’re at it. Having small breasts in high school was, in my mind at least, a disaster of epic proportions. “When will they grow?” I silently queried daily, while wondering why this travesty had befallen me. ”I must, I must, I must increase my bust.” That mantra has been a staple of meagre-breasted adolescence for so many decades because the universal fact remains: when you’re young, having big boobs is one of the only quantifiable, visible markers of becoming a grown woman. And there’s nothing we want more when we’re young than to be a grown woman, and all that comes with it. So when the boobies don’t come, we’re left wanting desperately for them.

The best part about reaching my mid-twenties? I’m rolling in self-confidence at this point. I don’t care about my breast size any more, or pretty much any other specific physical attribute for that matter. The most wonderful realization of all is this: Other people don’t care that much about my boobs either. In fact, most people probably aren’t thinking or saying anything about me at all. I’ve found self-consciousness dissolves bit by bit as you age. You come to see brand new depth and nuance to your identity, and even your physical beauty, which liberates you from being chained to a tragically small list of “good” qualities. As you get older, you learn there’s a lot more to being a grown woman than filling out a c-cup….


Image: prudencemapstone.

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